| |
Carol and John met, at Carol’s request, at the Starbucks at Metro Odéon. She wanted a decaf, and the best in Paris was available only at Starbucks. The alternative was that bitter, over-priced stuff they served in cafés. Although she was free to meet at any time, Carol had suggested an evening so John wouldn’t know she didn’t have a job.
He looked fantastic in his business suit. Carol eyed him surreptitiously. He was a Gentlemen’s Quarterly hunk, all right. And rich to boot. Rich, handsome men were not a good bet, she thought. They knew they could have anyone, and generally did. Besides, he was almost certainly married. Though the mark where his ring had been had faded. But that didn’t mean anything, maybe he decided not to wear his ring anymore. So he could flirt and have something on the side. Like me? No, that would be true misery. You’re right, but WOW! For as long as it lasted...
“So, Carol, how’ve you been?” John asked. He wondered if Philippe had talked to Carol yet. How much was this session with her going to hurt?
“Oh, good, good.” Carol was staring at his broad chest, still a bit stuck in her daydream. “How’s your novel coming along?” She didn’t really want to hear about it, but it was a conversation starter.
“I kind of lost interest in Chuck,” John said.
Yes, that was the problem we were telling you about, Carol thought.
“Did you ever do that character profile that we mentioned—” that I mentioned, Carol thought, but let’s get the group’s weight behind this—“that would be helpful to give him depth and liveliness?”
“Haven’t had time.” Closing the old business and trolling for new business was killing him.
“Listen, let’s do it now,” Carol said. “I have my laptop with me, and Starbucks has Wifi, unlike most Paris cafés. Let’s ask and answer character development questions. We’ll brainstorm. Two heads are better than one, as they say.”
“Yes, okay, thanks.” John leaned forward to put his elbows on the tiny table. He really did want to write a bestseller. Sad to say, right now it looked like his only chance to make some money. He was well aware that it was a long, long shot. But just in case, he would write it into the divorce settlement: all proceeds from the sale of monster hits go to John alone.
Carol Googled “character development questions,” checked out two links, and picked the one she thought offered the most complete set of questions. Now, to delve into John’s psyche and get the answers. This should be interesting.
“Okay, here goes: Number 1: Name. Chuck Norris.”
“No, not Chuck Norris, Chuck—.” In truth, that was how he imagined this character, exactly like the movie star. But he couldn’t rip him off that blatantly, could he? No. Everyone would laugh at him. The way Carol was laughing at him. She was attractive, plenty of breast action, a waist—always a nice feature—trim legs under that Armani suit. Pricey clothes. But not blatant about it, as Cassandra had been. A screenwriter, so creative. Creative in bed?
“No, his name is Chuck Morris.” Oops, that was embarrassing. Think, man! “I mean, Chuck Price, because he extracts a price from every bad guy. That’s his name.”
“Okay,” said Carol, typing. So now our group has a Dan Price and a Chuck Price. Sigh.
“Let me read you the first couple of questions so you can start thinking about them:
“Name: We got that.
“Age:
“Height:
“Eye color:
“Physical appearance:
“Job:
“More than anything in the world, my protagonist wants:
“But he/she is afraid of:
“And his/her greatest weakness is.”
“We have to answer all those?” John asked.
“There’s forty more questions. ‘What are his defining mannerisms, pet peeves, hobbies.’” That had certainly been mentioned before.
John rubbed his hands together. “Okay, let’s get started.” He was always up for a challenge. Especially in bed. Carol looked as though she offered that. Well, back to Chuck Norris, I mean Morris, I mean Price.
They brainstormed on Chuck for a while, then Carol said, “My turn,” and they brainstormed on her screenplay. When they were tired and stopped, they both felt excited about their writing projects again.
“Wow, that’s fun,” said John. “You’re good at it.” When you aren’t really bitchy, he thought.
“You are, too,” Carol said. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here. “You had great ideas for me. Thank you.”
“We should do this regularly.” If she were going to ease up on the condescending, shattering comments, there were other things he’d like to do regularly with her. He poured a drink from the carafe on the table. Steady, he thought. Sex could easily ruin this creative writing dynamic.
“I’d love that,” Carol said. I’d love to do a lot of things with this man. She fingered her sweating glass of water. The only thing harder for me than being in a relationship is not being in one. But an affair could jeopardize this creative collaboration we’ve got. She sat forward, feeling John’s eyes intent on her body. But she had to write and sell and great movie. Business before pleasure, that was a good principle, wasn’t it?
“Listen, one more question before we quit for the day,” Carol said. “I need a lawyer to pursue the father of my daughter for child support. Know of anybody?”
“Yes, the lawyer handling my divorce is a family law specialist. He’s French but speaks perfect English.”
“Oh!” Cautiously, she said, “So you’re getting divorced?” There was more possibility here than she had imagined. What was that you just said to yourself moments ago about a business-focused, platonic relationship? Yeah, they’re nice, but what about sex?
“Yes, unfortunately. She’s trying to soak me, but he’s good, he’s helping me dodge her ploys.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about your divorce.” She thought, Crikey, you’re available. So am I. Pick me, pick me!
“I haven’t thought about a new relationship,” John said. Well, only every night when I climb into bed alone. Or see a woman’s hips swaying as she walks down the street.
“I broke up with someone recently, too,” Carol said. If it were up to her, she’d be with John. Wait, it was up to the woman, wasn’t it? Yes, it was!
Carol’s and John’s eyes met and held. They each knew they had a green light from the other.
“We work well together,” John said.
“Yes.”
“I’d be concerned to ruin a good collaboration,” John said.
At that point, Carol made a choice between having a romantic relationship with John and writing to support herself and her daughter.
“Me, too,” Carol said. Damn! I would have liked to take a risk on it. But would it be worth ruining our fabulous brainstorming? No. So be it. Ugh. For now.
