Seduced by the Screenwriter

Chapter 11, Skating on Thin Ice, Part 11

Chapter 11

Skating on Thin Ice

Chett holed up in the lakehouse and wrote straight through the rest of week. Saturday at midday he attached the high concept and treatment for an action film tentatively titled Kingpin of the Sea to an email and pressed the send button.

Sure, it was derivative. A foreign crime boss smuggles drugs into the Florida Keys via powerboats. When an undercover Drug Enforcement Agency agent infiltrates his organization and becomes the drug lord's mistress, the danger escalates. Several high speed ocean chases and blown-up boats later, the good guys win.

To please Jenna, he'd ensured she'd be out of uniform and wearing sexy costumes for most of the movie. He'd even written in a yacht with a sunbathing deck on which to display the figure she so desperately wanted to show off.

On her end, Jenna had arranged for Dick Cairncross to be invited to the California party that evening. She and her agent had the entire day to read the document and rehearse the pitch. He'd done his part. Now it was up to them to work their contacts to generate interest in the project.

Chett laced numb fingers together and stretched his arms in front of him. He glanced at the half-full bottle of whisky on the sideboard and realized he hadn't swallowed so much as a dram all week—unprecedented since his divorce. As he closed the laptop, he felt an unfamiliar emotion—satisfaction with his creative effort. He figured he deserved a break from the keyboard.

Outside, snow crystals sparkled in sunlight. Water dripped from thick icicles hanging from the eaves. The outdoor temperature had risen to bearable. He decided to check out the local winter carnival.

***

Chett parked beside haphazardly parked cars, SUVs and pickups in downtown Port Carson, and dropped his keys into a parka pocket. Down a slope and along the shoreline, kids of all ages sat at picnic tables or out of the cool breeze under canvas tents. Service club volunteers at smoking BBQs offered burgers and hot dogs for two bucks each. He bought a burger and a steaming hot chocolate to wash it down, then surveyed the scene.

Four snow machines roared along a track the length of two football fields on the lake parallel to the shore. Farther out on the snow-covered ice, snowbanks defined the perimeter of a rectangular ice rink. Helmeted young men in a mismatched collection of hockey jerseys slapped a puck back and forth.

Chett sauntered toward the dozens of spectators clustered around the ice rink. Children perched on adult shoulders, the better to see the action. According to Bob, the Tim Hortons gossip maven, Goldie Hawn had owned a Muskoka summer home for years, and her son was up visiting friends. He wondered whether Wyatt, an actor and goalie, had joined the game.

He scanned the crowd, stopping at three men standing side-by-side, comedy royalty from movie classics such as American Pie, Three Amigos and Austin Powers. The woman at his shoulder, insulated coffee mug in hand, noticed his interest.

"That guy in the blue toque is Eugene Levy, up here stayin' with Martin Short. Beside them is Mike Myers in the red and black plaid jacket. They're putting on a benefit tonight for autistic children at the Sterling Inn."

Those three improv artists together on stage promised a riot of laughs. He wondered if Catrina planned to attend. "Are tickets available?"

She snickered. "Yeah, at a thousand bucks a pop. They're counting on their rich friends to come through." Observing his disappointment, she patted his arm. "I hear an HBO film crew is in town to film the show."