BOOK ONE: DECEPTIONS
Chapters One to Twenty Six
Vignettes 1 - 140

BOOK TWO: YESTERDAY ECHOES
Chapters 27 to
Vignettes 141 -

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Vignette #59: Sharkwater

He didn’t want to think about it. He poured himself back into work, buckling down even harder. The contracts he asked for finally arrived, eye opening as they were. He had done meeting after meeting, way into the night. Things were falling into place, and it excited him.

It didn’t take Ian long to get lost in the paperwork before him. He spend his evening at home in the usual manner, on the table by the pool taking all the pieces of the work day and finding ways to fit them into a yet to be named masterpiece to present the next.

“Hard at work as usual I see?” The voice came from the either end of the patio. “May we interrupt?”

Ian looked up from his notebook to see Kellen, Ralphie in tow, followed closely behind by the dynamic woman with long dark hair he had seen on the balcony that fateful night.

“Of course.” Ian stood. Reaching out his hand to the beautiful woman, who was more exotic and intoxicating than he imagined close up. “You must be Amanda.”

Amanda ignored the outstretched hand, slipped her arms around him and kissed him wetly on the lips. “You are even more delicious close up than you are from two hundred feet away.”

Ian blushed.

“Oh my.” She said, taking a step back and turning to Kellen. “And modest. I could just eat him alive.”

“Now, now Amanda.” Kellen warned her. “Not everyone is on the menu.”

“Of course, not Kellen.” She smiled and seated herself at the table. “Just because he’s not an appetizer, doesn’t mean that he wasn’t made to whet the appitite.”

“Drinks?” Ian stammered. “I should get us drinks? Uhm? I have scotch, maybe some vodka…”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Amanda purred.

“I was having hot tea.”

“Scotch then, neat, but only if you’ll join me.”

Ian whisked the paperwork off the table and shoved it in the cabana, as he grabbed a bottle and three glasses. Ralphie barked at Ian for his share of attention. Ian put the bottle down, and got to his haunches to receive doggie kisses from the setter. “And I missed you big boy.”

Kellen explained to his ex, who had a questioning look on her face. “Ralphie seems to have figured out how to open doors. He’s constantly inviting himself over here while I’m at work.”

Ian roughed Ralphie’s coat. “He’s such a welcome companion. I never had animals, well pets, growing up.”

“Kellen said you were a farm boy—cows and chickens, the whole lot?”

“Well, chickens, only cows when we could afford one and usually only until we needed the meat.”

“What did your family raise?”

“Whatever we ate...corn, beans. My uncle tried to make a living raising tobacco, but it really wasn’t much of a cash crop, and pretty much stripped the land over time.”

“Interesting.” Amanda said.

“No.” Ian stood from Ralphie and motioned for Kellen to join them at the table. “Not at all.”

Amanda pointed to the bottle. “May we?”

“Oh, absolutely. Forgive me for forgetting. I don’t drink very often, and my social skills need a little polish.” Ian stood and poured a neat drink for Amanda. He picked up a second glass. “Kellen?”

“Actually, none for me. My job is done.” Kellen said, pushing his chair back and standing up. “Ralphie and I will head back over to the house and leave the two of you to discuss whatever it is the two of you will discuss.”

“Just stay.” Ian said.

“No. I’ve learned not to be in the ocean when the shark is circling the prey. It’s too easy to get caught in all the thrashing and chomping.”

“Kellen…” Amanda pouted. “You make it sound like I’ve been stalking the poor man, just waiting for the kill.”

Kellen leaned over and kissed his ex-wife on the cheek. “Amanda, dear, I know you’ve been chomping at the bit to discuss business. All I know about the business you two are in is that when you point the little rectangle thingy and press the buttons, somebody somewhere panics because I changed the channels, and quite frankly I enjoy the power of my stupidity.” He patted Ian on the back. “She knows what she wants, Ian, and she’ll get it.”

“I think you misunderstand just who is the shark and who is the prey.” Ian smiled.

“This is going to be more fun than I dreamed.” Amanda purred.

Kellen smiled and looked at Amanda. “Play nicely children.”

Ian scruffed Ralphie’s ears and kissed him goodnight on the snout, then watched him wag his tail behind his master until they disappeared in the night. He turned to pour himself a drink to find Amanda had already done so and topped hers off. He seated himself and held his glass up in salute.

“So, did you like the books?” She asked.

“Surprisingly yes.” Ian told her. “I usually hate the genre and avoid it like I do, oh French kissing a cobra whose tail I just stuck in the toaster, but I like the way you write. I like the way you seem to be unfolding one story when actually telling another.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’m not just talking about the trilogy. I’ve read four of your other novels as well.”

“You’ve been a busy boy.”

“I always like to know my prey.”

“Mmm.” She licked her lips. “Shall we just whip them out and flop them on the table?”

Ian laughed.

“Amanda, you have been approached by every major, and in response have made yourself absolutely unattainable. With every book, the sales got bigger, the offers got more intense, and you responded with stonewall seclusion. All I had to do was make one phone call to a second party, and here you are.” She nodded. “Why HRT?”

“Oh Ian, I could care less about HRT.

“You know what you have, and you’ve been waiting for the just the right time.”

“I’m a business woman, as well as an artist. I know I will probably never get this chance again. Can you blame me?”

“No. Smart thing to do, you’ve played the cards well, Amanda, all you have to do now is point, say you and get anything you want.”

She pointed her finger at him. “You.”

“Why?”

“I do my research to Ian, and let me just say I find you fascinating, fascinating and impressive. You’ve been in this town only a few months and already have everyone looking in your direction. Let me rephrase that, glued to your every move.”

“Maybe not for the right reasons.”

“Ian, if it weren’t for the right reasons, no one would still be watching…so closely. You infiltrated a legion of white collar tight asses, known for chewing up and spitting out the young, the bright and the determined. Usually some one like you has to kiss their ass until they wither and become extinct. Instead you rather boldly bare your own ass in public, make them drool over it and dare them not to kiss it. The really impressive thing is that they seem to be the only ones breaking a sweat.”

“Dumb luck?”

“Now you may be naïve, and maybe you stumbled into some of your quick success, but you back up the dumb moves with bold ones You take no prisoners and make no apologies about it. Why wouldn’t some one who thinks she’s doing the same thing want to a line herself with that?”

“How would you know about my bold moves, my dumb ones unfortunately are available for free with any high speed connection?”

“Let’s just say that I have a dear old friend, who would have done anything to cut you off at the knees but is now one of your legions of staunch allies. Believe me, Ian, when you can turn that much foaming hatred into a lather of fawning drool, it’s very impressive.”

“And who ever this is has kept…?”

“I’m not sure if it was conscious or not, but night after night of phone calls kvetching then suddenly getting the same amount of phone calls spewing awe it’s been easy to keep tabs, whether I wanted to or not. Of course the phone calls all still start with “Guess what the asshole did today?”

“Trish Apple? Are you talking about Trish Apple?”

She smiled. “And there’s the other thing, my turn to ask the question—why?”

“Why what?”

“What she did was terrible, nasty and a very poorly executed, but brilliant scheme. Why did you keep her around, and not have her drawn and quartered? And don’t give some Southern cliché diarrhea that’s meant to be witty either.”

“First, let me say that Trish and I have developed a rather I hate you so much I can’t stand it mutual admiration society, but you’re right she should have been fired and/or gone to jail. However, I knew I had to hit the ground running, the rube was playing with the big boys, and I figured that sooner or later I’d need a goon with big old balls they had no problem ripping off and throwing under the bus.”

“True, the only thing scarier than an extremist with a new hemorrhoid and a microphone, is a loyal diesel dyke whose been pissed off, which is what is so amazing. You pissed that woman off and now she’s a crime fighting sidekick, but don’t tell her I told you that. I like my tits where they are.”

“Understand, please, that I’m not about to be sucker punched again. I’m sure it will happen, but like any good improvisational comedian, I’m going over every possible scenario in advance so my well rehearsed jokes will look spontaneous.”

“Ian, let me blow my own horn, here. I am handing you a hot, let’s face it, flavor of the month, my crown jewels and the only string attached is that you are attached. When this hits the media you will be elevated above and beyond any flash in the pan. You will be the envy of every idiot with a dollar and a dream.”

“That I am aware of, especially having read the third book. When it hits the stands, the din of people begging for a taste of the cake will only escalate.”

“I think you and I are a lot a like, Ian Justyn. I never would have thought so, but we are. At first, I thought okay, my ex-husband who is really not much of a people person likes him. He doesn’t trust easily, not after what I did to him…and I don’t blame him. When Trish jumped on the bandwagon, I had to take a serious look, and I like what I see. Ian I like what I feel. You should take that as a compliment.”

“I do. Can we fight now?”

“Yes. Let’s.”

“My assumption is that you have no interest in film versions of the three books. Correct?”

“I’ve seen the ‘Twilight’ things. I’ve seen the most wonderful novels turned into the most hideous ninety-eight some odd minutes of torture. No thanks, I’d rather have Trish rearrange my anatomy.”

“You’re thinking mini-series, maybe a follow up series. I can’t believe that you don’t have some wonderfully twisted plots in mind with the characters left at the end of the third book.”

Amanda smiled, touched her finger tips to her finger tips and smiled. She threw her head back and laughed. “I knew this would be perfect!”

“This is were we get to fight. I’ve got a mostly similar idea. I’m thinking three limited run series running back to back, a highly promoted saga to kick off what will become the most talked about…” Ian leaned back in the chair, “…daytime drama ever.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Amanda went instantaneously from enthralled to appalled. “You want to turn my masterpiece into one of those low rent HRT soaps nobody watches? I don’t think so.”

“No Amanda,” Ian finally sat forward. “I want you to turn my low rent HRT soaps into a masterpiece that no one would dare not watch.”

“If you think you can talk me into that, I have severely misjudged you.” She pushed back her chair. “Forgive me for wasting both our time.”

“Amanda, give me one more minute, just one. You see I think you are right, we are both a lot alike, and I am offering tit for tat. Why should you hand me something that will without a doubt send my fledgling career into orbit without being able to offer you something juicy in return? Well something in return besides that big pile of dirty money.”

“Okay.” Amanda released her grip on the arms of the chair. “You have my attention.”

“You didn’t ask me an important question.”

“Which is?”

“Why would I suddenly be interested in the biggest selling Gothic Romance of all time, when quite frankly the genre just flat out doesn’t interest me to the point I didn’t even realize it existed until yesterday morning?”

Amanda turned her head to the side and stared at Ian. “You’re right. Why, and more importantly why would you insult me with a pitch for a soap opera?”

“It wasn’t the books that caught my eye, Amanda. It was the little bio in the back. It was that and a little fact checking that made me put two and two together to make several million.”

Ian walked over to his backpack and pulled out a file folder, stuffed to being held together with a rubber band. He placed it on the table in front of Amanda and got on his knees. He took her hands and looked into her eyes.

“So Amanda Jackson, would you give me Ian Justyn, the honor of, together, turning “Blood Kisses” in to the most innovative daytime drama in history, the one every one will try and fail to imitate? Will you give me a clear career path covered with industry drool and allow this humble man in return to give you…revenge, sweet roll naked on the bed covered in your enemy’s blood revenge.”

That dirty little twinkle came back into her eyes. “Do tell, Ian Justyn. Do tell.”

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