Seduced by the Screenwriter

Chapter 10, The Meat of the Matter, Part 10

In a reasonable tone he continued, "I get to decide what I can or cannot handle, not you. Please don't use my fear of dogs as an excuse to cut me loose." He sliced the largest steak into bite-sized chunks, and pushed the plate across the island counter to her with a sheepish grin. "That being said, you may have the honor of feeding your dog."

Cat placed both hands over her stomach. Inside, the ball of resolve to cut Chett loose softened from baseball-hard to foam. He had the guts to face his fear to be with her. What kind of wimp did that make her, in comparison? In her entire career she'd never backed down from a challenge. "I need some time."

He shrugged. "So do I. I'm on deadline. Jenna wants a film concept by Saturday morning. Unfortunately I have to buckle down until I deliver something she likes."

Relief lifted the corners of her mouth. He noticed the smile, and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. "I can see how broken up you are, Kitten." He picked up the two plates with carrots and nodded at the plate with chopped steak. "Feed your beast and let's eat."

In five days he'll have forgotten me, she assured herself. There will not be a next time. While her psyche rejoiced, a chamber of her heart flooded with unshed tears.

***

Late afternoon the next day, one o'clock LA time, Chett speed-dialed Jenna's number. After the preliminaries, he broached the reason for his call. "I have a concept to bounce off you."

"I'm listening."

Splashing in the background distracted him. "Where are you?"

"Reg's pool party." She rattled a drink with ice.

Chett groaned inwardly. Reg Symes, a successful screenwriter and mutual friend, lived in Bel Air. "It's snowing here. Again."

Jenna laughed. "Poor baby." Then she was all business. "What've you got?"

"A female cop with the Drug Enforcement Administration and her drug-sniffing dog track South American drugs smuggled through the Florida Keys."

"No dog, Chett. The audience's focus is on the animal, not the lead. Hell, the animal companion doesn't even have to be real. Think Ted and Ted 2."

Chett stared dismally at the content on his laptop that represented twelve hours of his life-characters, theme, goals, motivation, conflict, the three act structure beats... "You haven't heard the pitch."

"Do I want to be sweating in a uniform in the tropical heat for a couple of months while filming? No, I do not."

He had to ask. "Has Reg got anything for you?"

"Two of his action screenplays are optioned by big studios. Another is in development with an indie production company." She noisily slurped her cold drink.

Rub it in, why don't you, Chett groused. Outside the cottage, a pickup with an attached blade plowed the lane clear of a foot of fresh snow. "You were saying about the indie company property?"

"Sorry, a studio exec just walked by." She lowered the decibel level to relay, "The producers are waiting on an expression of interest from Marianna Martinez before they cast the female lead."

Marianna, a twenty-something actor with a killer figure, had won the Golden Globe award that Jenna coveted. "That's too bad," Chett commiserated.

"Yeah," Jenna replied with feeling. After a long pause that spoke to the depths of her frustration, she admitted, "I'm having lunch with Trudy Malcovitch tomorrow. She's the casting director for Apollo: Intergalactic War."