Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Script?” Cowan frowns at me then waves a hand. “Yes, that script, no, we aren’t making that film. Fuck that film. That film was trash. No, I have a much better idea, the sort of transgressive idea that will either make or break us. Are you two cowards?”
I glance at Blair. This is very bad. “No, we aren’t,” I say and she shakes her head, not looking very sure.
“Good,” Cowan barks and points a finger at me. “I am working with you—” He points his finger at Blair. “—And you because I am sick of big studios. Fuck big studios. They are pathetic, weaselly little cowards that only care about profit.”
I clench my jaw. I want to say, I care about profits, you old dickbag, but manage to keep it under control. Meanwhile, Blair looks like she’s going to melt through the floor, and I can’t tell if it’s because her hero is ranting at her right now or if she’s beginning to realize just how hard this is really going to be.
She loves Cowan. She loves him more than I do—and I love him a lot—but to her, he’s like the greatest auteur ever to make a film. I’d put him in the top ten, maybe top five depending on my mood. She worships him, practically obsesses over him, and her raw excitement keeps me going even though I’m beginning to see the painful contours of the hell we have ahead of us.
Cowan is totally unhinged.
The guy was shooting raccoons in his sitting room.
“What’s your idea, Tony?” Blairs asks him.
He squints at her. “My idea is too big to explain in words. Trying to tell you the plot to this film is like explaining a piece of jazz by dancing. It’s worthless and I won’t attempt it. If you want to work with me, you will have to trust me.”
“You mean, you want us to write you a fat check and not ask questions,” Blair says slowly and Cowan stares at her.
I stare at her too.
Holy crap, that was a ballsy thing to say.
But Cowan barks a laugh and nods. “Yes, exactly. You’re the suit, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me?” she asks.
“There’s always a suit.” He turns to me. “You’re the vision. She’s the suit. Am I wrong?”
“You’re wrong,” I say with a shrug. “We’re both suits. How much do you want?”
“Everything.” He grins massively and gestures wildly with his watering can, spilling water everywhere. “This is going to change cinema forever.”
“Right,” Blair says and stands, brushing her pants. “But is there a story? Or are you going to take our very big check and make an art film that changes everything, but nobody wants to watch?”
I stare at her, mouth open.
What the hell has gotten into her? My heart starts to race and a smirk spread across my lips.
Whatever it is, I like it.
And Cowan does too. He barks another laugh and nods slowly. “Yes, there’s a story. And yes, people will want to watch. They will be compelled to watch, unable to look away, like a car crash. A bloody, violent car crash. I am going to make a horror film, and you two are going to help me change the world.”
Nobody speaks. Cowan grins at us, the mad old bastard. Blair turns to me and tilts her head quizzically. I take a deep breath and let it out.
“Well, all right then. Let’s do it.”
Cowan claps his hands together. “Good. My assistant will be in touch and you will write the check. This has been a good meeting. Now please, get out, I have raccoons to kill.” Cowan strides past me and back toward the living room.
I decide to take the back way. I grab Blair’s arm and steer her to the exit. We step out into a perfectly manicured backyard that looks like Versailles.
“What was that in there?” she asks me, glaring over her shoulder. “Is he insane?”
“Yes, probably.”
“Was he really shooting at a raccoon?”
“I didn’t see one.”
“You said he almost got it.”
“I was humoring him.”
“Baptist. What the fuck—”
I squeeze her arm harder as we exit through a side gate. I stop, turning to her, and pinning her back up against the wooden face in the shadow of the house. She sucks in a surprised breath and stares at me, mouth hanging open.
That fucking perfect mouth. The mouth I’ve dreamed about ever since the wedding.
“You nearly ruined it in there.” I speak quietly so that she’s forced to move slightly closer to hear me. “Why?”
“I was testing him. I need to know he’s serious.”
“It’s Tony Cowan. You roll the dice with a man like him.”
“That’s what everyone thinks, but we’re going to be different. We’re making this movie happen. Or are you too busy fucking your little coeds to put in the work?”
I tighten my jaw. She has no clue why I do what I do. Why I sleep with these girls, and keep on sleeping with them, because it never satisfies me.