Chapter 7

Megan and Greg quickly settled into a routine. They'd waken, make love, shower, and have breakfast. Greg drove Megan to work. After work, he picked her up and brought her home. Some evenings, they dined out. Greg liked the Faculty Club at the University of Toronto. It was nice but not too pretentious. It had the advantages of being a private club without the need of pretensions, nothing like the Granite Club, that refuge of the nouveau riche. Greg liked the feeling of camaraderie without the pressures of business. Most of the members were professors at the University or, like Greg, alumni who were active on the University's behalf. Greg introduced Megan to his circle of friends. She was immediately accepted and became something of a star, especially among the men.

Most evenings they didn't feel like going out. Greg loved to grill, and Megan proved to be no slouch in the kitchen. On evenings when they didn't feel like cooking or going out, they'd order food for delivery. There were quite a few good choices: Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Vietnamese, Greek and Italian, to name but a few.

After dinner, Greg sometimes went up to his office to work. Megan played the piano and sang. Greg loved hearing her lovely voice, although her singing was sometimes punctuated by profanity if something wasn't exactly as she wanted.

Other times, they'd just sit in the study, cuddling in front of the fire. They'd talk about their day, relax and just enjoy each other's company. Often Greg had scripts to read. Megan would sit reading a book or quietly playing the piano. One evening, Greg was evaluating scripts from the top of the pile, the "possible" category. Megan sat in the corner of the chesterfield, her feet drawn under her. She was wearing, as she often did, one of Greg's T-shirts. Exclusively. She shifted a bit, and Greg glanced at her. There, only a few feet from him, was her lovely femininity. Her movement had caused the pink lips to separate. The inner moisture glinted in the firelight. Greg chuckled. "Put that away," he said.

Megan said, "Put what away?" She sounded innocent. Just a touch too innocent, Greg thought.

He reached over and gently stroked her puss. "This," he said. "How do you expect me to get any work done when the object of my affection is putting on a show?"

Megan laughed. She leaned forward and kissed him. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just wanted to see how long it would be before you noticed."

"Just out of curiosity, how long was it?

Megan looked at her watch. "One minute thirty-five seconds," she said. "The old record was one minute fifty seconds. You're getting better."

"Little minx," Greg said, "I'm afraid you're becoming a cock-tease."

Megan laughed and shook her head. "Not true," she said, "I always deliver what's on display. I never tease."

Greg said, "I have a suggestion. Instead of distracting me from my work, why don't you help me finish it? Then we can go upstairs and play."

"OK," Megan said, "what can I do?"

"I have three scripts here that I've winnowed from a pile of over twenty. Comedies. They're all good. But I can only afford to produce one of them as a pilot. Needless to say, I also can't afford to be wrong. I'll have input from my staff tomorrow. But I'd very much like your opinion. Would you mind looking them over?"

Megan said, "Not at all. It's about time that I made myself useful around here."

Greg said, "It's not that you're not useful. I can name many uses for you. It's just that none of them involve productive work." Greg handed her the scripts and went to the bar. He said, "Martini or Scotch?"

"Neither," Megan said, already reading the first script. "I'm drinking too much hard liquor. I'd like a gin and tonic. Not too much gin."

Greg poured a Laphroaig for himself and made her gin and tonic. He handed Megan her drink and sat watching her read. She sipped, wrinkled her brow, read back over a few pages and put down the first script. As she read the second, she chuckled. Once in a while, she laughed. She read a few pages over again. Then she put it down and picked up the third and last script.