“Alice is my muse?” Russ let his bike fall to the grass and sat next to it.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.” Graham scoffed.
His muse. Like his inspiration for writing? “I didn’t. Don’t.”
“You tell me the last time you wrote something good. Something you’d be proud to put your name on.”
Russ brushed his hands over the dried grass. “The day before …”Gabriella came to town.
“Things went south with Alice?”
“Pretty much.”
“You need to fix this.”
Yeah, he did. But there was no way to come back from the level of idiocy he’d displayed. He’d chased after Gabriella with reckless abandon—and in the process abandoned his friend. “I can’t. She hates me.”
“The line between love and hate is pretty thin.”
“You think shelovesme?”
Graham let out an exasperated breath. “Apparently, you’ve already moved to the great state of denial.”
Russ hung his head. Did Alicelovehim? If she did, and he blew her off to be with Gabriella, he was a total jerk-faced ninny muggins. Tossing his helmet between his feet, he thought of all the rotten things he’d done to Alice since Gabriella came to town. Cancelling dates. Avoiding conversations. No wonder he was off. He’d taken her for granted, pushed her aside, and ignored her feelings. “Graham, I’m an idiot.”
“Yeah, but we’ll come back to that. Okay, big question time.”
“Tell it like it is, why don’t ya?”
“I don’t have time to mess around. Have you signed a contract with this new guy?”
“No.”
“Good. Don’t. I’m still your agent, and until I receive a termination letter, I will look out for you. Before you sign anything, let me go over it.”
“Okay.”
“Have you actually written this screenplay people are buzzing about?”
Russ rubbed his gut. “I have something.”
“Keep it under lock and key. No one sees it—got it?”
“Yep.”
“Now, if you can avoid selling your soul in the next few days, I will be there Friday to help you through this.”
Halloween. He could make it that long—hopefully—without screwing up his life. “Thanks.”
“Russ.” There was a warning in Graham’s tone. “I’m going to need to see a draft of something.”
“Right.”My draft.Russ thought about his work in progress. The story line was solid, the characters fairly well developed. They could use some work. He could overhaul the lead and then send it to Graham, but without Alice’s keen eye and input, it wouldn’t be his best.
Graham said goodbye and hung up.
Russ scratched his chin. The conversation had been full of information, but the piece that left him puzzled was Graham’s claim that Alice was his muse. Alice couldn’t be his muse. Alice was just Alice. She was stable and even-keeled and, except for ten minutes ago, his best friend. Muses were supposed to be mysterious and exotic—like Gabriella.
That was what he needed to do: he needed to talk to Gabriella. She was a passionate person. He needed some passion in order to finish his play. His hands shaking, Russ dialed her number and held his breath. Each ring was an eternity, and he had trouble getting a lungful of air.
