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lovemykilt
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4/4/11 06:40 (UTC)"No, no." Priestly steeled himself. "I'm going to get this. I'm gonna -- there's things that need to be said." And they never would be, if he wasn't trashed. He answered the phone. "What? . . . No, I'm not. . . . I know I said I'd -- would you -- Selene. Selene. I'm not going to --"
Okay, and apparently they wouldn't be said if she didn't shut up first.
"Goddammit, Selene, would you listen to me for once?! . . . Yes, I'm drunk. And I'm staying an extra night and I think when I get back I'm gonna -- yes, a hotel. Yeah, well, maybe we should tell the produ -- oh like this hasn't been coming. Since when? Gee, I don't know, Selene, maybe since you started fucking my pastry chef." There. He'd said it. And he hung up on her squawking, looked up at Dinah, and let out a hard breath. "I'd throw the phone, but, uh, I think it'd just kind of . . . bounce. In here."