My name is Martin Howell and although you've probably never heard of me I'll bet you know at least some of my work. I write for a living and I do it from my estate high up in the Hollywood Hills. Oh I don't write those best selling novels you see listed in the Sunday New York Times and I don't write non-fiction either, what I do write is movie and television scripts and I get paid handsomely for it. You've probably seen some of them ... there was a movie a few years back about Las Vegas and the strip's showgirls ... lot's of tits and ass and some sex and then there were two episodes of HBO's Deadwood and in one I even got to let one of the shows whores show some pussy, there were three episodes of Sex in the City and there are some other shows that you would probably recognize too. Yup, that's what I write and although you might think its crap (and mostly it is) still I get upwards from a $1mil a movie to $250k plus for a television script ... not bad for a perverted old fart!
Now, a bit about me. I am 49 years old, divorced, and stand almost six feet and weigh in at maybe 178 pounds and have a beard and think that I'm a pretty good looking guy. I also have a full tan which I keep up in two ways; I tan nude outdoor by the pool and when that isn't possible I have my own tanning booth in a back room at my house. All-in-all I've never had any trouble getting women into my bed ... oh yea, the money helps.
At any rate back to my story. I was in the market for a new secretary, the last on having gotten wealthy enough off of me that she married a professional golfer (not a PGA tour player but close) and moved to Florida. How did she get wealthy you might wonder, well I pay my secretary's $50 an hour and that means over a $100k a year in salary alone plus for every script I sell my secretary get a cool twenty percent of the selling price so its not impossible for a good secretary to make $300 to $400k a year! I know that you're thinking that I'm crazy to be paying that kind of dough for secretarial services but the truth is I'm so fucking quirky that only a truly dedicated woman would put up with my shit.
Quirky? God you can't believe how fucked up I am when it comes to my writing. I write at odd hours of the day and night and in all states of dress or undress. I might wake up in the middle of the night with an idea and I want to ring the call bell and have my secretary there in minutes, if not faster. I've been known to get ideas while showering and when I do I want her there to take notes. The weirdest thought I ever had a story line that came to me while I was at 10,000 feet sky diving. I had this absolutely great idea but it was time to jump and I told my secretary, at that time her name was Hilda, I said, "Hilda you've got to jump with me, I've got this great idea." I had to shout over the noise of the wind coming in through the open door and when she heard what I wanted her to do she looked at me with an incredulous look then gave me the finger! I laughed over that one all the way to the ground ... then I fired her. Anyway I had an interview scheduled for 11:00 with one Clair Moorland, Mrs. Clair Moorland no less and I was interested to see her take on me as well as the position because I had never had a married woman apply for the job, my reputation being what it was.
I heard the front door bell ringing so I walked out into the foyer to meet Mrs. Moorland. I was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a tee shirt and that was all as I opened the door and when I saw her (them actually) I was somewhere between amazed and amused at Clair Moorland and presumably her daughter. Clair was almost my height, maybe an inch or so shorter but still she was very tall. She was wearing a business suit, a light blue skirt and jacket with an opaque pale yellow blouse partially hidden by the buttoned jacket. She had on pale blue pumps, ecru colored hose and believe it or not she was wearing a fucking hat! Who the hell wears hats today? Standing by her side was a smaller duplicate of Clair, only younger and definitely dressed differently. Her teenage daughter (I was still guessing here) was wearing a pair of while slacks, a pretty aqua-marine blouse and New Balance sneakers. Mrs. Moorland smiled at me and held out her hand.
"I'm Clair, Clair Moorland and this is my daughter Beth and you must be Mr. Howell."
I nodded at her daughter and took her hand gently in mine and shook it. "Yes I am, but please call me Martin."
She smiled at me. "Very well, Martin it is ... now where can my daughter wait while we conduct this interview?"
I looked from her to her daughter and back. WE conduct an interview? I thought I was conducting the interview? "Uh, well Beth is more than welcome to use the media room ... it's down that hallway," I said pointed to my right, "You can use anything in there you want honey and as for us Clair, we'll be talking in my office." After Beth disappeared into the media room I led Clair down the hallway and into my office, closed the door and had her sit in the easy chair in front of my desk. "Can I get you anything ... some water ... a drink ... anything?"
"Yes, a water would be nice."
I walked over to the built-in refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water, opened them and handed her one. "There you are." She took it from my hand and thanked me as I walked behind the desk and sat and looked her over - again. She wasn't a classically beautiful woman but she was pretty in a very sexy way. My very first thought was that I could model a character in one of my script using her profile. Her skirt was sensible enough but when she at down it slid up above her knees revealing a set of very nice looking legs. Her breasts weren't large, maybe 34B or C but on her tall, thin frame they looked spectacular. I wondered how long it would take me to have her willingly show those puppies to me. "Well Clair, do you have a resume with you?"
"Certainly Mr. Howell ... excuse me, Martin" She reached into a thin-line leather briefcase and took out a single sheet of quality pale yellow paper with her resume printed on it. She stood and handed it to me then sat back down. "Here you are Martin."
I read through her short resume. Graduated Drake University with a bachelors degree in fine arts with a minor in English lit. Her first position was with the Des Moines Register as a proof reader then after three years at the paper five years go by seemingly unaccounted for and then she took a position with MGM studios as a re-write editor then another two years go by unaccounted for and then a position in San Diego with the Union Tribune as an assistant editor. That lasted until seven months ago and now here she was, looking at a secretarial job with a 49 year old perverted script writer. "An interesting resume Clair, can you tell me a little bit about your background and about the gaps, of course?" She didn't hesitate, she just leapt in.
"Well it's pretty much what you see. When I left college the job market, especially jobs for women, were pretty scarce but I was lucky enough to land a position with the Des Moines Register where a sympathetic editor wanted someone with a fresh viewpoint and new ideas to review articles and do re-writes. That gig lasted about three years then I met my now ex-husband and I quit to become a stay at home wife. I had my first child, Beth, and things went well enough until we moved to LA and after a while I got restless and through a friend I met I got an interview with MGM studios and landed that position. When my husband transferred to San Diego I followed him there and took the job with the Union-Trib. A month ago I caught my dear husband balling the next door neighbor's daughter so I divorced him and came back to LA and started looking for a job and ... well here I am."
"I see. Well as you've probably heard I'm kind of an eccentric writer; do you know what I write?"
"Sure, some movie scripts now and again but mostly TV scripts and it's mostly sex filled crap!"
Hummmm, well that pretty well nailed it but I hated it when she said I wrote crap even though that was accurate. "Well you certainly are ... uh ... outspoken ... but I'm not sure that I'm looking for a critic what I really want is someone who will be at my beck and call, around the clock, and do what is needed to get my scripts written. With a child in tow how would you propose to do that Clair?" She pursed her lips and looked serious for a minute then said,
"Well it's my understanding that you have a small cottage behind your pool for your secretary and that would do nicely for my daughter and I. I'll be here whenever you want me, day or night and do whatever you need ... whatever! For that I understand that you'll pay me in excess of $100k a year plus 20% bonuses on scripts sold ... is that correct."
.... There is more of this story ...