HELL OF A DEAL, a supernatural satire

Chapter Four

4

It was the sort of pricey Beverly Hills fad restaurant whose name can't be mentioned without permission. Their group was cordoned off in a private section where Smith and his team of lawyers confronted Lou and his naughty nurse assistant. Appetizers and drinks poured steadily in.

The nurse wore business chic and glasses, which accentuated her particularly dark eyes and long brown hair. She didn't say much, but then again she didn't have to. Physically, she was tall and slender, her legs tight and long, which Al did not fail to notice.

When the main course arrived, Lou blurted out, "This is all deductible, right?"

Smith's team of legal eagles nodded in the affirmative. They created copious notes on their laptop computers throughout the meal. Contracts formed as Al and Lou spoke to one another, almost on a word for word basis.

"Just so you understand," said Smith, "this deal is with the studio and not with me personally, and the studio has certain requirements about how they invest their money."

Lou dropped his gaze hard. His head shook. He was clearly disappointed in Al's opening salvo. "I don't like conditions when it comes to my movie, Al."

Smith rolled his eyes. "Let's just get through the boilerplate."

"Shoot, big guy." Lou appeared cheerful, and he drummed out a quick riff whenever he felt the urge.

Al spoke methodically and by the numbers. "The film cannot go beyond an 'R' rating. Nothing pornographic. No male genitalia. No mutilation on screen."

"No mutilation?" The salesman seemed bewildered. "You're kidding me? What about your last slasher film, Al? Bled all over the place. Twelve thousand gallons of fake blood, didn't I read online?"

Smith accepted that this was going to be a frustrating battle of wills. "If you can convince the ratings board that it's necessary then more power to you. We just care about the rating. Big money at stake."

"Fair enough." Lou smiled, and he drummed on to intentionally annoy the old man.

The nurse/assistant caught Al's attention as she sucked a glob of ranch dressing from her stalk of celery.

Smith lost his train of thought. Undiplomatically he turned toward Lou's nurse like an old dog in heat.

Even Smith's lawyers noticed.

Lou grew impatient. "And!"

Al jerked back, and he looked down at his notes. "And, you must remain within budget. Which is an unbelievably generous twenty five mil—"

"One hundred and fifty," Lou cut off Smith in mid-sentence.

Al shrugged, in total disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? Forty mil."

"One hundred and forty." Lou stared back arrogantly.

"I can go sixty. And not a penny over."

"One thirty."

Smith sipped at his sparkling water. "I don't think this is going to work out, kid." Al spied over at his lawyers busily typing away on their laptops.

All the men turned their faces down to the work, pointedly avoiding any interactions.

Smith was quite alone in this negotiation. He inhaled with purpose. "Seventy five."

"One hundred twenty."

Smith studied the restaurant's plaster ceiling. "I guess I see where this is going."

Lou's eyes pierced back like daggers. "Then, say it."