Chapter 4

I tried to leave it alone. Really. I had stuff to finish, stuff that would make me money, instead of something guaranteed to make me lose money. But Eric was right, I was hooked. I'd finally given up, and dedicated one day a week to it. I didn't tell Eric until I was done with it. He'd dropped by, on his way to another date. Somehow word got out that we weren't drug dealers, but movie makers. Poor little rich girls, poor girls, and just regular girls were suddenly interested in playing tennis with us, inviting us to the juice bar afterwards to 'get acquainted'. It got so bad I thought seriously about changing clubs.

Eric was having the time of his life, banging his way through all our admirers, making promises he had no way of keeping. It took another minor STD to slow him down. Even condoms aren't always effective. At least he was a little more selective, and there was a mild scandal, not to mention an increased number of doctor visits by some very pissed off women, when it came out. I was surprised he could find someone still willing to go out with him.

He was moaning about it on my couch when I dropped the binder in front of him.

"What's this?"

"It's what you've been obsessing and bragging about for the last five months. It's your movie."

He was almost reverent when he picked it up. "No shit?"

I grinned to see him at a loss for words. "No shit, as cheesy a piece of junk as I could make it. Tell me what you think when you get time to read it. Now go enjoy your date."

He pulled out his phone, and started texting like crazy. He threw it down and grinned at me. "Seems I'm suddenly at loose ends. Mind if I read it here? And order some takeout, I'm starving."

I couldn't believe he blew off his date for this. "Where did you leave the poor girl waiting?"

"La Petit Chateau. She has a thing for French food. Why?"

"Because I'm going to stand in for you, no need to let good food and a hot woman go to waste. Text her back and tell her I'm on my way." I figured he'd bitch, but he caught her just as she was about to leave. He didn't know whether to be pissed off or not when she said she'd be happy to wait on me.

I came back three hours later, grinning. Seems the perfect thing to go with a nice meal is a little dancing. She directed me to a club I'd never been in before. It was a jazz bar, and it featured an eighteen piece combo that played mostly forties and fifties music. She taught me how to foxtrot, and we enjoyed several nice waltzes. I liked it so much I decided to take advantage of the Wednesday night dance lessons they offered. The young lady I was with seemed delighted to be my practice partner. Looks like Eric might have lost a dolly. The fact that I treated her like a princess and didn't try to peel her dress off her on the dance floor may have swayed her decision.