I clench my jaw. I want to say,I care about profits, you old dickbag, but manage to keep it under control. Meanwhile, Blair looks like she’s going to melt through the floor, and I can’t tell if it’s because her hero is ranting at her right now or if she’s beginning to realize just how hard this is really going to be.
She loves Cowan. She loves him more than I do—and I love him a lot—but to her, he’s like the greatest auteur ever to make a film. I’d put him in the top ten, maybe top five depending on my mood. She worships him, practically obsesses over him, and her raw excitement keeps me going even though I’m beginning to see the painful contours of the hell we have ahead of us.
Cowan is totally unhinged.
The guy was shooting raccoons in his sitting room.
“What’s your idea, Tony?” Blairs asks him.
He squints at her. “Myideais too big to explain in words. Trying to tell you the plot to this film is like explaining a piece of jazz by dancing. It’s worthless and I won’t attempt it. If you want to work with me, you will have to trust me.”
“You mean, you want us to write you a fat check and not ask questions,” Blair says slowly and Cowan stares at her.
I stare at her too.
Holy crap, that was a ballsy thing to say.
But Cowan barks a laugh and nods. “Yes, exactly. You’re the suit, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me?” she asks.
“There’s always a suit.” He turns to me. “You’re the vision. She’s the suit. Am I wrong?”
“You’re wrong,” I say with a shrug. “We’re both suits. How much do you want?”
“Everything.” He grins massively and gestures wildly with his watering can, spilling water everywhere. “This is going to change cinema forever.”
“Right,” Blair says and stands, brushing her pants. “But is there a story? Or are you going to take our very big check and make an art film that changes everything, but nobody wants to watch?”
I stare at her, mouth open.
What thehellhas gotten into her? My heart starts to race and a smirk spread across my lips.
Whatever it is, I like it.
And Cowan does too. He barks another laugh and nods slowly. “Yes, there’s a story. And yes, people will want to watch. They will be compelled to watch, unable to look away, like a car crash. A bloody, violent car crash. I am going to make a horror film, and you two are going to help me change the world.”
Nobody speaks. Cowan grins at us, the mad old bastard. Blair turns to me and tilts her head quizzically. I take a deep breath and let it out.
“Well, all right then. Let’s do it.”
Cowan claps his hands together. “Good. My assistant will be in touch and you will write the check. This has been a good meeting. Now please, get out, I have raccoons to kill.” Cowan strides past me and back toward the living room.
I decide to take the back way. I grab Blair’s arm and steer her to the exit. We step out into a perfectly manicured backyard that looks like Versailles.
“What was that in there?” she asks me, glaring over her shoulder. “Is he insane?”
“Yes, probably.”
“Was he really shooting at a raccoon?”
“I didn’t see one.”
“You said he almost got it.”
“I was humoring him.”
“Baptist. What the fuck—”