by Lynn Ames
“Are you sure you’re okay with that plan?”
“This is your work and your business. You don’t need me hovering.”
Jay scrutinized her wife’s expression. She didn’t hear any hint of hurt in Kate’s voice, but… Was she telling the truth? “You know I value your input—”
“Don’t.” Kate cut Jay off. “We talked about this after the press conference. I heard your concerns loud and clear, and you were right.”
“Kate…” Misery threatened to bubble up from the pit of Jay’s stomach.
Kate turned to face Jay. “Sweetheart, I am one hundred percent behind you and fully on board with this project. This is yours, not ours. You are a fabulous judge of character. You’re going to know straightaway whether Carolyn is the right fit for you. If she’s not, and you trust her to recommend another agent to you, that’s fine too. And if, after sitting down with her, you want to figure out your own alternative, I’ll back you all the way.”
Jay stared into the face she knew so well. All she saw in Kate’s eyes was love and earnestness. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Kate agreed.
“Here you go,” the cabbie announced.
Kate paid the fare as they exited the cab outside Carolyn’s office. “Call or text me when you’re done.”
“You’d better get us the best seats in the house.”
“Oh, the pressure.” Kate leaned down and kissed Jay sweetly on the lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Don’t stop for any hot bread pretzels on the street. You’d better save your appetite for dinner.”
“You know me too well.”
Kate headed off down the sidewalk, and Jay stood still a moment to admire the view. After all these years, seeing that long-legged swagger still made Jay’s heart flutter happily.
If you don’t get moving, you’re going to be late.
Jay pushed through the revolving door, rode the elevator to Carolyn’s floor, and walked through the double glass doors etched with Carolyn’s name.
“You must be Jay.”
The woman just inside the door was petite, perky, and dressed in a crisp, charcoal gray skirt suit. Jay grasped her outstretched hand. “I’m Gayle, Carolyn’s assistant.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Coffee?” Gayle motioned Jay to follow her down the hallway.
“No, thanks.”
“Water?”
“I’d love some.”
“I’ll bring it right in. Carolyn is expecting you.” Gayle stopped in front of a partially closed door and peeked her head in. “Jay is here.”
Jay was expecting to hear Carolyn tell Gayle to send her in. Instead, the door swung open wide.
“Hello again, Jay. It’s so good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, Carolyn. Thank you for fitting me in.”
“Thanks, Gayle.” Carolyn smiled at her assistant and gestured for Jay to come all the way into her office.
For Jay, it was always the little things that revealed what kind of person someone was. The fact that Carolyn warmly acknowledged her assistant without any hint of condescension or elitism was telling. The personalized greeting at the door rather than remaining in the power position behind the desk spoke of a woman who didn’t feel the need to posture.
Carolyn led them over to a pair of identical wingback chairs and motioned for Jay to make herself comfortable. A moment later, Gayle knocked and entered with bottles of water, ice, and glasses.
“Thanks.” Again, Carolyn acknowledged Gayle.
“You’re welcome.” Gayle left the office and closed the door behind her.
“So, Dara didn’t tell me much, except that you’ve got a killer manuscript that she’s itching to turn into a blockbuster film.”
“She said that?” A warm rush of pride filled Jay’s heart.
“Absolutely.” Carolyn filled the two glasses with ice, poured them each a glass of water, and handed one of them to Jay.
“Thank you.”
“I think Dara’s exact words were, ‘This film is going to set the world on fire.’” Carolyn took a sip from her glass. “And trust me when I tell you, Dara is never that effusive with praise.”
Jay thought about the Dara she’d come to know over the past few weeks. Carolyn was right. Although she could be warm and supportive, Dara never was prone to hyperbole.
“You said that Dara didn’t give you a lot of details, so I don’t know if you’re aware that it looks less and less likely everyday that the manuscript will be published as a novel.”
Carolyn smiled sympathetically. Quietly, she said, “I read the papers, Jay. But I know that the papers sometimes contain only the smallest kernel of truth. I’d rather hear whatever it is you’d like me to know directly from you.”
Jay nodded. She liked that Carolyn didn’t offer false platitudes. “Obviously, anything I tell you must be kept confidential.”
“You have my word.”
Jay took a drink of water and paused. “For more reasons than I feel comfortable disclosing, the Feds are actively discouraging publication of this book. Among those to whom they apparently have reached out is my agent.”
Carolyn raised an eyebrow, but otherwise her expression remained interested but unfazed.
“She essentially washed her hands of me and passed me off to one of her junior agents. I’m telling you this because, if we decide to work together, I need you to know it will likely also make you a target for intimidation.”
Carolyn nodded. “I appreciate your forthrightness about that, Jay. Let me be equally blunt. If I sign a contract to represent you, it means I’m all in. I’ll be your fiercest advocate, no matter who knocks on my door.”
There was no quaver in Carolyn’s voice and no timidity. Nothing about her demeanor gave Jay pause. She already knew that Carolyn could be trusted with confidential information—after all, she managed the career and business affairs of Constance Darrow.
“Fair enough.”
“Jay, I’m aware that Dara entrusted you with her most closely guarded secret. She’s given me leeway to explain to you how I work with her.”
Jay furrowed her brow in puzzlement. “Why would that be necessary?”
“It’s relevant so that you understand and can make an informed decision based on the extent of my involvement in Dara and Rebecca’s business affairs—so that you can determine for yourself if there would be a conflict of interest in your mind.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“As you know, Dara and I are childhood friends. In fact, she’s my best friend, and I’m hers. We’ve been watching each other’s backs since kindergarten. When she decided to become an actress, she never considered anyone else representing her. She was my first, and still my biggest, client.”
“How lucky you both are to have that kind of trust and foundation for such an important business relationship.”
“I count my blessings every day, not because of the money, but because I get to work with my closest friend. And when she came to me with the idea of creating Constance Darrow, we spent weeks and months strategizing about how to carry the deception off, how to safeguard her identity, how to help her live her dreams.”
“I can only imagine,” Jay said.
“Dara knows that I will go to the grave carrying and respecting her secret and protecting her privacy. I’m the only one authorized to sign contracts for Constance, to negotiate terms, to appear on her behalf. That’s the level of trust Dara has in me.”
Jay thought of her own writing career and relationship with her agent. She had entrusted Sydney with her livelihood—with her career—and Sydney had opened doors for her. When Jay became a household name, she responded by bringing Sydney more business and clients than she knew what to do with. And now? Now, Sydney had abandoned her in her hour of need. “I’m certain that Dara’s trust is well-placed.”
“I’d like to think so.” Carolyn took another sip of water. “Now, having said that, I’m here to tell you that what I offer
Dara in terms of professionalism and service is the same thing I offer all of my clients. It’s the same thing I’m prepared to offer you, Jay.”
“I would never presume to question your integrity, Carolyn. I wouldn’t be a very astute businesswoman if I hadn’t checked with some of your other clients for their input.”
For the first time during the course of this conversation, Carolyn’s face registered surprise. “Bully for you for doing due diligence.”
Jay shrugged. “I knew what Dara and Rebecca thought of you. I needed some input that was a little more…”
“Unbiased?”
“Yes.” Jay nodded. “Unbiased.”
“And?”
“And to a person, they all extolled your virtues. Your clients clearly love you.”
“But?”
“There is no ‘but’ here. I know that I would be in excellent hands, and that you’d represent my interests with the same tenacity and level of attentiveness that you do all your other clients.”
Carolyn continued to maintain eye contact without flinching. She’d handled every aspect of the discussion impeccably well, which left Jay wondering what there was to think about and why she hadn’t already engaged Carolyn’s services.
“You don’t have to make a decision today, Jay.”
Perceptive, too. Carolyn was the whole package, and she had experience with clients in the screenwriting business, something Jay knew nothing about. “Tell me what to expect in this situation.”
If Carolyn minded the deflection, she didn’t show it. “This case is somewhat unique, since we already know who is optioning the property. Normally, I’d encourage a bidding war for your manuscript.” Carolyn smiled slyly. “I can, of course, still do that if you want.”
“What?” Jay shook her head. “No. No, of course not. Dara wants it, and, unless you can give me a compelling reason to say no, I’m inclined to sell it to her.”
After a beat or two, Carolyn said, “I assumed as much, but it’s my job to advise you. I’d be remiss if I didn’t inform you that you stand to make a lot more money if I open the project up to multiple potential buyers.”
If Jay still had been wondering whether or not Carolyn’s friendship with Dara would mean that she’d put Dara’s interests above hers, her fears were allayed. “First, I seriously doubt that anyone else would be beating down the door for a novel with so much baggage attached to it.”
“Are you kidding me? Controversy sells.”
“I can believe that, but does government scrutiny sell too?”
Carolyn chuckled. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have to work very hard to generate buzz and interest for an unpublished Jamison Parker novel.”
“You’ve read my work?”
“Was that a real question?” Carolyn rose and walked over to a floor-to-ceiling bookcase behind where Jay was seated. When she came back, she was holding a complete collection of Jamison Parker hardbacks. “I really wanted to ask if you would autograph these, but I wasn’t sure it was appropriate under the circumstances.”
Jay’s face suffused with the familiar rush of pride she felt every time someone acknowledged her work.
“You’re blushing,” Carolyn observed.
Jay scrubbed her hands over her face. “I tend to do that a lot, especially when people whose opinions I value say things like you just did.”
“So, how about it?” Carolyn’s eyes twinkled. “I mean, they’re all right here…”
Jay reached into her briefcase and pulled out a pen. As Carolyn handed her the books, she noted that, although the books were in excellent condition, they clearly showed signs of having been read. She signed them all with a flourish and handed them back to Carolyn.
“Thank you.” Carolyn returned the novels to the shelf. “I apologize. I know that wasn’t terribly professional of me…”
“I’m happy to do it.”
Carolyn sat back down. “Now, where were we?”
“You were generating hypothetical multiple bids for the rights to the book.”
“Ah, yes. Okay, well, since we’re not going that route, I would sit down on your behalf with the money interests and insist that, since we’re giving them exclusive access to a hot property, they’re going to have to compensate you accordingly.”
Jay leaned forward. “I like the way you think.”
“In addition to the money, I would negotiate screen credits for you, not only as the author of the source material, but as an executive producer.”
“Does that net me anything more financially?”
“We’ll see. At the very least, it gives you cachet, which in this business goes a long way.”
“Okay.” Jay drew out the word.
“We have to think of the big picture.”
“Pun intended,” Jay said.
“Pun intended,” Carolyn agreed. “I’m hopeful this will be the first of many adaptations for you. When this movie does gangbusters at the box office—”
“If…”
“No. When.” Carolyn pointed a finger at Jay for emphasis. “When this film sets the box office on fire, a lot of folks are going to be clamoring to snap up the rest of your works. Trust me when I tell you, the price is going to go up.”
“I can live with that.”
“Good.”
“That’s the first part of the equation.”
“There’s more?”
Carolyn nodded. “Mm-hmm. Rumor has it you and Rebecca collaborated on the screenplay.”
“We did.”
“That means you get screenwriter credit and compensation, as well.”
Jay sat back. Her head was spinning. There was so much to consider.
“You’re overwhelmed,” Carolyn observed.
“Is it that obvious?”
“It might have been the deer-in-the-headlights look on your face.” Carolyn’s tone was gentle, and not at all condescending. “Look, film hasn’t been your genre. It’s the agent’s job to ensure that your interests are well served. If you decide you want to engage my services, I’ll take care of everything I’ve described and any other business issues you empower me to handle for you.”
Jay appreciated the subtlety of what Carolyn wasn’t saying. If Jay wanted to change representation for her novels, Carolyn would take her on as a client for that as well.
“What kind of timeframe are we looking at?”
“For…?”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t very clear. How long would it take to negotiate the rights and the rest of it?”
“That depends on who we’re negotiating with. If you agree that you truly want to sell the rights to the novel, we’d be negotiating that part of the deal with Dara, since she’s your buyer. After we’ve successfully concluded that deal, she’ll put together a team of investors to produce the film. Once we know who those folks are, I can give you a firmer idea of how discussions will go.”
“Fair enough.”
“Jay, I’ve done enough of these deals on behalf of clients that I know a fair number of the players.”
“I’m sure you do.” Jay leaned over and unlatched her briefcase. Her mind was made up. She pulled out a copy of the manuscript and handed it across to Carolyn. “When can we start?”
Carolyn’s smile lit up her face. “I’ll have a letter of engagement drawn up for you and have it to you within the next eight hours. As soon as you sign that, I’ll contact Dara and get the process started.”
“Perfect.”
They both stood and Carolyn held out her hand for Jay to shake. “Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you for taking me on. I look forward to working with you.” As they walked to the door, Jay said, “You did hear the part where I mentioned that you might come under an unusual amount of scrutiny from the Feds.”
Carolyn’s laugh was rich. “I heard you.”
“Just checking.”
Peter lingered behind as the rest of the passengers disembarked from the train in Casablanca. He and Lorraine traveled from John F. Kenned
y airport to Tangier and took the subsequent train ride in separate compartments, under false passports, and in disguise. He had watched Lorraine get off the train several moments earlier from two train cars behind his current location. At the moment, he was scanning for signs that Lorraine was being watched. He saw none.
When he was confident that most of the other passengers were gone, he stepped down onto the station platform and slowly ambled into the lobby using a hand-carved wooden cane. He made a show of trying to get his bearings, in keeping with the older gentleman persona he had adopted. Eventually, he wandered out to the taxi stand. Within seconds, a cab pulled up with the window rolled down.
“Need a lift?”
Peter nodded, used a shaky hand to open the back door, and clumsily climbed in. When they were well away from the station, he said, “Nice wheels.”
Vaughn smiled at him in the rearview mirror. “I borrowed it from a guy who is…occupied…with a paramour at the moment. I didn’t think he’d miss it for half an hour. I left my Jeep there. I figured this was less conspicuous for now. I’ll have this back before the poor guy even knows it was missing.”
“How was your trip?” Lorraine asked. She kissed Peter on the cheek.
“Lonely without you. It’s been a while since we had to do that. Oddly enough, I didn’t miss it.”
“Me neither.”
“If you two lovebirds are quite finished,” Vaughn said, “we can get down to business.”
“What have you got?” Peter asked.
“This is for you.” Vaughn reached back over the seat and handed Peter a flash drive. “It’s everything Sabastien has on all of the major contractors, the subcontractors, and the Black Knight/John Robie.”
“Perfect.” Peter handed the drive to Lorraine. “Did you bring me the change of clothes I asked for?”
“Check under the seat in front of you.”
Peter did as instructed and pulled out the small backpack. He unzipped it and sifted through the items inside. “This will do the trick.”
“Here. Let me hold that.” Lorraine shoved the thumb drive into her pocket, and took the backpack from Peter, along with the cane.
Peter stripped off his jacket, shirt, and pants and replaced them with the pair of faded jeans, crewneck t-shirt, and hoodie from the backpack. With Lorraine’s help, he removed the bald cap he’d been wearing, combed his natural hair, and added a New York Yankees hat to complete the ensemble.