She saw no reason to return to the office with the computers down for the afternoon, but she had two hours to kill before she could return home at her usual time. She could have simply waited outside for a few minutes before making a loud entrance, but Brenda wanted to give her father every minute alone with Carly she could. She had resisted the idea of taking Carly out of school to sit with her sick father, but he feared having another stroke with no one at home to call for help. Brenda was now sure he never had the first stroke, and Carly was a virtual sex slave to him from eight to four, five days a week.Brenda realized just how accommodating she'd been. She gave up the master bedroom so he'd have room for his photographic equipment, his hobby. She broke her husband's firm direction not to allow the dog in the house. Her father showed her a magazine article that praised the healing effect pets have on the chronically ill. Skippy became a house pet and they had to live with his. . he kind of had me by the short curlies there. I would pay a lot more than that to keep this from being made in the first place.“So, if I offered the studio a fair price for rights to the manuscript, then we could put this whole thing to bed right now? Say, a million dollars even? That is twice what you paid for the manuscript and the movie rights.”Mort didn’t even bother to answer. His expression told me that wasn’t going to fly and, if I was being honest with myself, I knew it before I said it.Fuckety fuck.“Okay, but I have some real concerns and how they are addressed would change how cooperative, or how obstructive, I will be about making this movie.” I said, laying my cards on the table. Mort looked concerned but the two lawyers looked perfectly calm. Either it was good acting or they thought they had already seen every trick in the book. In either case, we would have to see if they remained that way.“Okay, Jack, hit us. Tell us your concerns and let’s work together to get them.
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