Brian and Christine
For the next two days Brian busied himself with fixing little details of the script, with phone calls back and forth to Simon LeGree) Le Groh. It was hard to concentrate because Christy was always in his thoughts. Wendy was busy with her court case. She called Brian every evening but stayed in her apartment so she could be up and out early.
Days dragged by and there was no word from or about Christy.
Then, on the third day, the mail brought a letter from Mike Wyman of Buffalo Gap and another from Lydia Collins. Brian quickly opened the letters hoping they would have the pictures, which they did. The picture from the Gap was the one he remembered, but it was the two of them standing close together with his arm around her. The other picture was just of Christy, taken at a Christmas party. There was a tree in the background, but otherwise it was a nice simple photo of Christy’s pretty face and a smile, but she had a slightly melancholy look on her face.
Brian quickly called Bloom’s office to see if he was there. Then he got Juan to drive him over there with the photos. Myron was on the phone but waved Brain in. Brian sat down and listened to Myron wheel and deal. Just at the moment when the deal was off, whatever the deal was, Myron slipped in another suggestion as if it had been brought up before and rejected. That apparently clinched the deal. He hung up the phone and said “The secret is to make them think it’s their idea, then they go fir it. What have you got?”
Brian handed the two pictures to Myron, with the one from the paper on top. Myron looked at and frowned. Then he looked at the second picture, the Christmas shot and, without giving it a second glance, he said “That’s it.”
He picked up his phone and said “Beatrice, would you please call the Art Department and have them send up a photographer right away, please. Thank you.”
“The folks in Connecticut will want that picture back. It’s from their Christmas album. Is that okay?”
“Why not. Now, I have an appointment with Lester Lynx tomorrow and then I’m talking to Grace Werbler the day after. We’ll get this Christy girl sitting in your lap before you know it.”
The door opened and a young, thin, nervous spectacled man came in. “What’s you name?” said Myron.
Myron held the photograph of Christy between his thumb and first finger, the same way he had held Brian’s script, with the face front.
“Bruce, I need you to take this photo and copy it. Make a dozen first rate copies but don’t damage the original. Can you do that?”
“No problem. Sir.”
“Good. Please do it pronto.”
Bruce took the picture of Christy carefully in his hand and left.
“Mischief thou art afoot” said Myron.
(To be continued.)