If there was one thing I’d learned since knowing Jack, it was that the worst thing to ask a writer was how the writing was going. It brought up feelings of inadequacy, doubt, and sheer panic. Jack’s face remained calm, although I recognized the tic in his cheek. “It’s going great—thanks for asking.”
Jack walked across the room and dragged a chair back to my desk, placing it next to the one he’d just vacated. “Let’s go ahead and get this started so I can get on with more pleasant tasks. Like waxing my chest.”
I sat down again behind my desk while Jack waited for Rebecca and Marc to sit down across from me. Jack perched himself on the corner of the desk and smiled. “I’ll just stay here in case Matt tries to steal a pencil or something and I need to tackle him. He’s got sticky fingers.”
Marc shook his head, looking more annoyed than hurt. “Look, I came here to make a truce. In case your head has been buried in the sand and so you aren’t aware, the filming is going to happen whether or not you want it to. Harvey Beckner and the other producers won’t back down. You signed a contract and unless you want to be sued for everything you own, I’d suggest you honor it.”
Jack nodded pleasantly, the tic in his cheek stronger. “So, if I don’t have a choice, why are we having this meeting? I do believe our lawyers made our position very clear. If we have to settle this in court, we’re prepared to do that. There is no reason for us to meet face-to-face. It causes me intestinal distress just to be in the same room with you, and that’s something I’d rather avoid.”
Rebecca folded her hands primly in her lap. “Marc and I decided to call this meeting because we’re family. And because we’re family, we believe that we can continue with the filming in a mutually beneficial way. You’d avoid the necessity of emptying your bank account and selling a single ruby to fund an unnecessary and ill-advised lawsuit, and Marc gets his movie made. We want this all to go as smoothly as possible so the film people can get in and out quickly and you and your family aren’t inconvenienced more than you have to be. We want to work together, not be adversaries. Because we are family.”
Jack picked up my pencil cup and began replacing each pen and pencil in an upside-down position. It made me squirm, and I had to sit on my hands so I wouldn’t yank the cup out of his hand and put everything back the way it was meant to go.
He continued to smile. “I might believe that, Rebecca, if your husband and I didn’t have such a long history. And if he didn’t have the reputation of being a liar and a thief.”
Marc started to stand, his hands in fists, but Rebecca pressed her hand on his leg. “No need to make this physical. We are all adults. Why don’t we discuss this in a rational manner?”
“Just as soon as you tell us why you’re really here. If Harvey is hell-bent on us honoring our contract, there’s no need for us to talk. It’s in the lawyers’ hands.” Jack placed the cup back on my desk with the contents all askew while he stood. “Otherwise, I’m leaving.”
Rebecca looked at her husband with raised eyebrows.
“Fine,” Marc said, although his expression was that of a man who suddenly realized his underwear was too tight. He took a deep breath. “It’s . . . important that this movie happens and that there are no lawsuits or complications that might impede or delay its filming and release.”
“The movie based on my book, which you stole from me.” Jack began walking toward the door. “I’ve already heard enough. Maybe I can schedule a colonoscopy today, too. Anything to make my day brighter.”
Just as Jack reached the door, Rebecca jumped up. “We need a loan.”
Jack stopped, and remained completely still for a moment. Slowly he turned around with an expression I’d seen only once before, when he’d been lying at the bottom of an open grave staring up at me.
He wiggled a finger in his ear. “I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t hear that right. Or I’ve been suddenly thrown into an alternate universe. Because nowhere in the real world would you two even consider asking us for anything, not after everything you’ve done to harm me and my family. Either you hit your head harder on those mausoleum steps than you originally thought, or you are as incredibly stupid as I’ve always known.”
Marc stood and began zipping up his coat. “Come on, Rebecca. I told you this wouldn’t work.”
She held up her hand to him, her expression fierce, before turning her attention to me. “Yes, it will, because Melanie is family.” She cupped her hands over her belly. “And because our baby will be Melanie’s goddaughter.”
The old Melanie, who’d never had a best friend or been picked for teams in playground kickball or been a bridesmaid, did a small silent cheer while the rest of me moved my horrified gaze between Rebecca, Jack, and Marc.
“Oh, come on,” Jack said. “Do you really think Melanie would fall for the ‘we’re family’ card?”
When I didn’t say anything, he focused his attention on me. “Mellie? Right?”
As much as I hated being manipulated by Rebecca, she was my cousin, and she’d even had moments when she’d been a friend to me and shared the psychic dreams she’d had in an effort to help me. I couldn’t just turn my back on her.
“Look, why don’t we all sit back down and hear them out?” I indicated the chairs in front of my desk.
Jack sent me a cautioning look. “I’ll stand,” he said as Marc and Rebecca reluctantly took seats again, “just in case I have the urge to lose my breakfast.”
I gave him one of my looks usually reserved for a whining toddler or a sullen teenager. “Rebecca, why don’t you tell us what’s going on? But I’m not going to pretend that everything Jack has said isn’t true, so do your best to stick to the truth.”
Marc sat in stony silence while Rebecca sat up with her hands cupped demurely over her barely there baby bump. She was only at the end of her first trimester, and I remembered looking like I was on the verge of delivery by the end of my first month.
Rebecca cleared her throat. “Marc—I mean, we—have had a few investments fail in the last few months through no fault of our own.”