His Every Defense (12 page)

Max nodded. “And what say you, young lady? What’s your stake in all of this?”

She smiled. “I just want to see a brilliant screenplay become the movie it’s meant to be.”

Max seemed to like that. His eyes lit up. “Yes. That’s why we all got into this business in the first place, even if we forgot it a long time ago.”

“We’d love to be partners on this with you,” Hunter said. “We know we need you to do it the right way.”

“And what about talent? Do you have anyone in mind for the male and female lead roles?” Max asked.

Hunter shrugged. “I have a feeling you might know some people who’d have an interest in this kind of film.”

“I do,” Max said, getting up, heaving his huge body out of the seat and walking around his desk. He was already breathing heavily through his mouth. “I think Reese is looking for this kind of film—something to put her back on top. Maybe Rachel McAdams, too. For the male lead, perhaps Mark Ruffalo. But it’s got to be actors that can play comedy and drama. In fact, I think we could have a lot of the best and brightest lining up for the parts you wrote, Bryson.”

“That would be amazing. I’d be honored if any one of those people you named would be in this film,” Bryson replied.

“And as for directors,” Max said. “I happen to know for a fact that Jon Favreau is actively seeking this sort of film to do in the near future.”

Kallie felt a pang in her heart as Max said this, and she couldn’t even look at Bryson.

Hunter sighed. “Well, that does bring us to one area where we feel very strongly,” he said. “Which is that, in our opinion, Bryson Taylor should direct this film.”

After he spoke, the room descended into one of the most uncomfortable silences Kallie had ever experienced.

She could see Bryson’s shocked expression and pale face from the corner of her eye.

But it was Max’s reaction that mattered. He stared at Hunter and his face began to turn slowly purple. “Are you out of you fucking goddamn mind?” he shouted in a strangled voice.

Kallie was feeling such mixed emotions—she was afraid they would lose the deal for sure, and she was embarrassed that Max was so angry with them. But the overriding emotion she felt was joy. Because she knew Hunter had done this for her. He was putting his neck and his reputation on the line for something he didn’t even agree with, because it had mattered to her.

“I’m not out of my mind, with all due respect,” Hunter said.

“You came all the way out here just to piss in my fucking face,” Max said, his whole giant body shuddering with rage. “You are pissing in my face. How fucking dare you?”

Hunter was as relaxed as Kallie had ever seen him—almost as though, the more enraged Max became, the calmer Hunter acted in response. “If that’s how it seems, I apologize. But the fact of the matter, is that this man wrote an excellent screenplay and he has a vision for it.”

“Fuck his vision. What’s his experience? How does he help us put asses in seats?” Max said, spittle flying out of his mouth. “I’m talking about hiring Reese Witherspoon and Channing Tatum—“

“I think you said Mark Ruffalo, to be fair,” Hunter said.

“—and why would any of them entrust themselves to someone who is, quite frankly, a complete nobody in this town?”

“They’ll do it because of the stature and the name and cache that you bring to the project,” Hunter said. “They’ll do it because they believe in you.”

“They believe in me because I don’t put them in with first-time directors. How is he going to manage the kind of budget we’ll have at stake here? This is insane. This is offensive.”

“Was it offensive when Sylvester Stallone demanded to star in the script he’d written back when nobody knew who he was? Or what if Tarantino hadn’t directed Reservoir Dogs?” Hunter asked him.

Kallie stifled a smile.

Max stared at Hunter, and for a brief moment, Kallie thought Hunter’s little speech had turned the tide. But then Max spoke. “Get the fuck out of my office,” he said, waving his hands at them. “Get out now.”

Hunter stood up and looked at Kallie and then Bryson. “You heard the man.

Let’s go.”

As Bryson stood, he started to speak to Max. “Listen, I’m willing to—“

“Shut up,” Hunter told him. “We’re going.”

Kallie could hardly breathe. She went first, with Hunter and Bryson close behind.

If this had been a visit to the principal’s office, then certainly they’d been expelled from school.

Outside the office, Bryson turned to Hunter. “I think we should go back and tell him that I don’t want to direct,” he said. “I mean, that was just crazy.”

Hunter stopped walking and faced him. “You said it was your dream. You told us this was what you really wanted. Was all that just some bullshit line you were giving me?”

Bryson shook his head. “No.”

“Then why would you back down now? We’ll still get your film made. We’ll take it somewhere else. Hell, maybe I’ll do a few rounds of investing and make it myself.

I can get Reese Witherspoon on the phone if I want to.”

They started walking again.

Kallie felt such love for Hunter, who was willing to do whatever it took to make her happy—a man who let nothing stop him once he knew what he wanted.

They were leaving the outer office when Max Weisman’s secretary stood up and shouted at them. “Excuse me! Excuse me! Mister Weisman wants to see you back in his office this instant.”

“Are you sure?” Bryson said, “because we just got kicked out.”

“I’m sure. He told me to send you back in. I won’t tell you what he called you, but I know he wants you back there now.”

They all looked at each other. Kallie couldn’t imagine what they were walking into.

“I’m going to tell him that I’m open to whatever he suggests,” Bryson said. “I can’t be responsible for stopping this film from happening.”

“Just keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking,” Hunter said.

So they turned and went back down the hallway and entered Max’s office once more.

He was waiting for them, drinking water at his desk. His face had returned to its normal color. “All right,” he said. “You called my bluff.”

Hunter crossed his arms. “You’ll let the kid direct?”

Max rubbed a hand across his face and shook his head. “If I didn’t love that damned script he wrote so much, I’d have gladly sent the three of you packing without so much as a second thought.” He sighed. “But the thing is, I love this script. And the guy who wrote it is a talent—and if you tell me you can direct, then I’m willing to put my money on you,” he said to Bryson.

“I won’t let you down,” Bryson said, and his eyes didn’t waver.

Max came out from behind his desk and shook Hunter’s hand. “I think we just made a deal to do this film. I’ll be in touch with more news later this week.”

“It’s going to be fun,” Hunter said.

Max shook Bryson and then Kallie’s hands in turn. When it came to Kallie, he smiled mirthfully. “Sorry for all the colorful language. Sometimes my temper gets away from me.”

“Apology accepted. I’m just grateful that we’re moving forward.”

“At light speed,” he said. “And I think we’re all going to make a lot of money,”

he said, grinning widely.

***

Less than an hour later, the three of them were getting drunk at a nearby restaurant.

“I’m going to call everyone I know,” Bryson said, slurring his words a little after the fifth or six shot he’d taken since coming in. “I’m going to call them and tell them I am a fucking director now.”

Hunter laughed. “You do that. You deserve it.”

Kallie was having a beer, but she was buzzing too. She was probably just as high from the meeting as anything else. “I can’t believe this is happening. I just can’t believe it’s real.”

“I know the feeling,” Bryson said.

“What time is Sean getting here?” Hunter asked, changing subjects.

“Sean’s my brother,” Kallie told Bryson, as she checked her phone. Sean had texted her while she’d been in the meeting at Max Weisman’s office and let her know he was already in town. So she’d texted him back not long ago and told him to meet her at this bar. “I think he’ll be here any minute,” she said. “And I think he’s going to be crazier than Max Weisman.”

“Now that’s a scary thought,” Bryson said. He checked his watch. “You know, I should go. I told them I’d still make it in for my shift if I could swing it.”

“Are you serious?” Hunter said. “You’re going to work? It’s time to celebrate, man.”

Bryson clapped him on the shoulder. He was grinning broadly. “I owe you big time,” he said. “Day or night—you need anything, just call me.”

Hunter toasted him with another shot. “Salud,” he said.

Bryson turned to Kallie. “Same goes for you, Kallie. Day or night, you just call me and—“

Hunter interrupted him. “Don’t worry about Kallie,” he said. “I got it covered, buddy. She won’t be calling you anytime soon, day or night.”

Bryson raised his eyebrows, laughed. “Okay, okay. I get it.” And then he left, waving as he headed out of the restaurant.

Kallie sighed. “You’re crazy, you know that?” she said.

Hunter smiled at her. He started singing Crazy Little Thing Called Love to her, his voice getting louder as he went on.

There was hardly anybody else in the restaurant. Eventually, he pulled her up and began dancing with her as he sang, twirling her, dipping her. She couldn’t do much with her bad ankle, but Hunter pretty much carried her across the floor, so she hardly needed to put any weight on her leg as it was.

And just as he was giving her one final dip, Sean walked into the restaurant.

“He’s here,” Kallie whispered, and Hunter pulled her up, his arm around her waist still.

Sean walked towards them. He was wearing khakis and a white t-shirt, his barrel chest broad and expansive as he came their way, strutting like a peacock. “Little Sis,” he said, and held out his arms to her.

She met him for a long hug, and he looked her over. “You had us worried sick,”

he said.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I didn’t mean to cause any problems.”

Sean looked at Hunter. “Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Pretty damn good,” Hunter said.

They shook hands, and Kallie could tell from their body language that the handshake was anything but polite. It looked like they were trying to see if they could break one another’s fingers.

There was a loud buzzing sound and Hunter looked down. “That’s me,” he said, taking his cell and looking at it. His eyes widened.

“Everything okay?” Kallie asked.

“It’s our friend, Mister Phillips.”

Her eyes widened too. He meant the detective, but obviously Hunter didn’t want to get into it in front of her brother.

“You should take it,” she said.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he told them, and got on the phone, heading to the back of the restaurant.

Sean sat down next to Kallie and ordered a beer from a passing waitress.

“So, you’ve seen me,” Kallie said. “Do you feel better?”

“No,” he answered. His eyes were serious.

“Well, why not? I’m doing just fine, Sean. In fact, better than fine. I just had the most amazing day.”

“Yeah?” he said, as if interested. “Tell me about it.”

So she started to tell him about the script and how she’d discovered this brilliant new screenwriter (leaving out the parts where she snooped and acted unprofessionally and fought with Hunter).

The waitress brought over Sean’s beer, and he sipped it and seemed attentive.

Finally, she told about how they’d just landed this big deal with Max Weisman, and how over the moon she was about it. “And the coolest thing was how Hunter fought for Bryson to direct,” she finished. “If you’d seen that, Sean—you’d never worry about me being safe with Hunter.”

Sean nodded and sipped his beer. And then he grew serious again, perhaps more serious than she’d ever seen him. “I want you to come home with me today. Now, actually.”

“What?”

“Mom sent me here to bring you back to us. Everyone is worried about you, Kallie. Everyone.”

“This is ridiculous,” she said, starting to feel hurt and angry—as if she’d been ambushed. “I’m fine. Why would I come home?”

“Because you’re not fine. And anyone who knows you, knows you’re not.

There’s something wrong with this guy, and I don’t want to see you hurt because you fell in love with a bad seed.”

“A bad seed?” she laughed. “Come on. You always get this way, Sean—“

He shook his head. “It’s different this time. Everyone wanted me to come out here and do this. Mom, Dad, all us kids. We had a big meeting and talked it out, and they decided I should be the one to come tell you.”

Kallie folded her arms and looked around for Hunter, but he was nowhere in sight. Her stomach was roiling now, and she felt suddenly sick and also scared.

Somehow, this day had turned into a complete nightmare.

“I’m not coming home with you, Sean,” she said. “And I really don’t even want to talk to you anymore. In fact, maybe you should leave.”

“Kallie, think about this. We love you. I love you. We’re your family, and sometimes we can see when something stinks, even if you can’t. You have to trust us, we’d never do anything just to hurt you.”

“No,” she said. “No.”

The door to the restaurant was opening again, and out of the corner of her eye, Kallie felt like she recognized the person coming inside. Something about the way he walked, his formidable size.

He was wearing a baseball cap and a windbreaker that was too heavy for the warm weather, which was strange.

“Kallie, listen to me,” her brother said, as she looked over his shoulder to the man entering.

Something was very, very wrong.

I know that man.

And then she realized, too late, just who it was.

“Sean,” she said, her voice rising as she stood up.

Sean looked up at her, confused by her behavior. “Kallie? What is it?”

But by then, the man with the baseball cap and the windbreaker had reached into his coat and pulled out the pistol.

Everything was in slow motion. “Sean, get down!” Kallie screamed.

She started to run, but her ankle gave way and she fell.