“Hey, Greg.” Says Peter as he emerges from the hotel. His chin is held high and, between his cloths and his posture, his bend has disappeared. Greg reached out his hand which this time received a dramatic two shakes. “How has it been?”
“Peter, you should not get carried away with that good mood of yours.”
“Don’t worry about it Greg. Know lets give the client another try.”
“I think we should not go today, the weather is too bad for it.”
“Well drive slowly then.”
Greg gets into the car and looks up at the dark clouds above. Peter gets into the passenger seat. The driver looks toward Peter who responds with a nod. The car starts. The Toyota slips along the city streets toward the Writer’s house.
“So what it you want with client, eh?” Asks Greg.
“Just the right to some name.”
“Whatever happened to—“
“I have to meet them at least, then I can get the studio off my back so I can just enjoy my vacation.”
“Will that work?”
“We’ll see won’t we.”
Greg turns to speak but stops. He looks back to the road. He raises a hand from the wheel and looks at the conversations he was practicing written on his hand. He chuckles under his breath. The two reach the house.
“Hold my stuff for me.”
“Peter, is something wrong?”
“No, why.”
“Just go ahead, forget it.” Says Greg.
Peter walks toward the house and Greg rests his head on his arms. A buzz comes from Peter’s phone. Greg reaches over into the pile of things to find the phone but instead pulls out a pill bottle. The bottle was labeled Anti-depressants and was entirely empty. He put the bottle back down and grabbed the phone. Thirteen unread messages from a man named John Freidman and one from a Natia Bercik. Greg looks at the house.
“Damn,” Says John. He dials the number again and again and receives no answer each time. He turns to his assistant and laughs. “For the guy who made such a fuss about being the one to pick the name, he seems to not want to be involved.”
“Your being to hard on him, John,” Says Molly.
“Me being hard on him. He bitched for hours to pick the name then, poof, when we help pay for him to get there he disappears,” John walks over to his chair and leans back putting both hands on his face.
“Don’t worry, he’ll come crying back home like normal usual.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“John!”
“I’m just saying I hope the guy gets the guts to stay gone for once. Who knows it could be good for him.”
“Unlikely, the guy’s a diagnosed hypochondriac. He’s probably terrified right now. Poor peter.”
John sits up from his desk and takes his coat from of the back his chair. He walks to the door.
“Well I’m going to get some rest, I actually want to get this game done without losing any sleep over that creep. See ya Monday Molly.”
“Bye, John”
Peter knocks on the door. The woman he met at the bar opens the door. Peter stands frozen in place.
“You?”
“Oh I was wondered about what happened to you,” Says Sarah.
“Things got complicated, can I come in.”
“Sarah? Who’s at the door?” Asks Clyde.
“A friend, don’t worry about it,” Says Sarah.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Peter walks inside and warms himself by the fireplace. He looks around again at all the mementoes. Most are made of the same material.
“Don’t you think all this wood is dangerous to keep around a fireplace?”
“Well its not like I plan to leave the fire going while I’m not around.”
“Alright,” Says Peter. “I came by to ask you about the name of a children’s book by your father. Can we use it for a project my company is working on?”
“Which one?”
“Khandi.”
“Its kind of important to me since my dad wrote it.”
Author Biography
Landon is a student at Full Sail University and an all around great guy. He also likes to write very narcissistic biographies.
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