His Every Word (13 page)

“However it may sound, we still had an agreement—“

“Fuck your agreement. Fuck it in the ass, Miss Young.” Max Weisman stood up and the spittle was indeed flying from his lips again. “I am done trying to suck up to you.

I am very sorry for what you and Mister Reardon went through, but I can’t allow it to interfere with my business. I’ve given up everything for my movies. I lost my first two wives because of this job, and I never see my children. They hate me, they despise me.

So do you really believe I’m going to make a sacrifice for you, a woman I hardly know?”

Kallie took a deep breath. She checked her phone again and saw that it was ringing. Bryson was indeed calling her. She looked up at the infuriated producer.

“Excuse me, but I absolutely must take this.”

“Why not? You obviously have no respect for me or anything else, Miss Young.

So please, take your call and insult me a little more. Kick me in the balls while you’re at it.”

Ignoring him now, she answered. “Tell me fast,” she said quietly into her cell.

“I think it went okay,” Bryson told her.

“What did she say? Did she say yes?” Kallie asked.

“I never really got a straight answer. But we had a good time. It felt good.”

“I need more than that,” she whispered. “I need something concrete.”

“I didn’t get anything concrete,” he told her.

“Okay, then.” Kallie hung up and put her phone away. She was counting on Bryson to come through for her, but now she was on her own. She smiled at Max Weisman, who was moving back behind his desk again.

“I’m losing patience with you,” Max said. “Listen, I’ll buy you out of this deal.

Everyone will make money and I can do what I do best. Let me handle things, and you can keep your hands clean. It’s a dirty, nasty business, Miss Young. And truth be told, I really don’t think you’re cut out for it.”

Kallie was about to respond when the office phone rang. Angrily, Max picked it up and began yelling. “Didn’t I tell you to hold my calls, you little dipshit? Didn’t I…”

he stopped talking. His eyes widened. “She’s on the phone now? Christ. Put her through. Put her through!”

Kallie sat back and watched, her heart racing once more.

Max was anxiously waiting. Finally, he seemed to connect with the person on the other line. “Hi doll. How are you?” He sat and listened with a dawning expression of horror. “Now, hold on a minute. Have you thought this through, honey? Stephen was ready to sign on, and he so wanted to work with you. He’s won Academy awards, honey.

This could be a huge mistake, now, think about what you’re doing.” Beads of sweat broke out on the fat man’s face. Finally, he seemed to give up.

He put the phone down and looked at Kallie with a withering expression of hate.

“That was Eliza Johnston.”

“Oh?” Kallie smiled, acting as if this was news to her.

“Don’t play dumb with me. You went behind my back.”

Kallie shrugged. “And?”

“And she’s saying now that she wants desperately to work with Bryson. She says he’s a genius, that he’s going to be like Tarantino and she’ll be his Uma Thurman. Uma Fucking Thurman!” Max slammed the desk with his fist.

“Well, maybe we should just give Eliza what she wants, then. She’s a big star, am I right?”

“This is no way to do business,” Max said, disgust in his voice.

Kallie stood up now, walking towards him. She pointed at him as she moved closer. For the first time since entering his office, she felt no fear, no nervousness. “You listen to me,” she said. “You tried to screw us because you thought we were weak. You thought I would cave in because Hunter was out of commission and I’m just some nobody.” She drove her finger down against his desk. “But what you don’t know about me, is that I’m not afraid of you or anybody like you. Someone tried to kill me the other day, and they failed. You think that someone like you could scare me?”

“No, I guess not,” Max said, with something like respect entering his voice.

“Yeah, I went behind your back. Turnabout is fair play,” she continued. “And it worked, so you can go ahead and cry if you want, or you can be straight up with me from now on. Because so help me, if you try and screw us again, you won’t be dealing with me next time. You’ll deal with Hunter Reardon. Did you happen to read in the paper, what Hunter did to the guy with the gun?”

Max Weisman swallowed, nodding. “I hear you loud and clear.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Max. I’ll be in touch soon.”

She turned and left his office.

Kallie was elated, and when she got outside the building, the first thing she did was call Bryson. “She’s in!” Kallie cried.

“Wait a minute, who’s in?” Bryson said.

Kallie laughed. “Eliza Johnston, you big dope. You did it, you convinced her to let you direct.”

“I did?”

“She called Max Weisman two minutes ago and demanded to work with you. She compared you and her to Tarantino and Uma Thurman.”

“I might have mentioned them when we hung out together,” Bryson admitted.

“You are slick. Maybe too slick for your own good.”

“So we’re back? I’m directing again?” Bryson asked, his voice full of hope.

“We’re back.” Kallie hadn’t felt this good in days. “Listen, I want you to meet me at the hospital. I want us to tell Hunter about this together. He’s going to love it.”

“Okay, I’m there. I’ll be there in like half an hour.”

“Drive fast, but not too fast,” Kallie told him. “Great job!”

She got off the phone and pumped her fist.

***

When Kallie arrived at Hunter’s room, she was in high spirits. Detective Phillips was standing outside the room next to the guarding officer, as if nothing had changed in the time she’d been gone. “How is he?” she asked.

Phillips thought about it. “He seems fine.”

“Just fine? Is anything wrong?”

“Not really. He’s mostly been asleep. Scarlett’s in there with him now.”

“Okay.” Kallie quietly walked into the room and waved to Scarlett, who waved back.

“He’s still resting,” Scarlett whispered.

Kallie looked at him. The color was still in his cheeks, and he still looked sweaty.

“How’s his fever?”

“I’m not sure. The last they checked, it was like one hundred and one.”

Kallie’s eyes widened. “It’s gone up.”

“I don’t know. They said it’s gone down, they think his fever’s breaking.”

“They’ve been saying that for two days now,” Kallie said, shaking her head in frustration. She walked over to his bedside and put a hand on his forehead. He felt burning hot.

“Hey, I recognize you,” Hunter said, opening his eyes and smiling.

“Hey, there. Sorry I woke you.”

“I’ve been awake, there’s just been nobody worth talking to.”

Kallie started to laugh, but then she caught the expression of hurt crossing Scarlett’s face, and that made her stop. She felt bad for Scarlett, suddenly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Never better,” he coughed.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m ready to go a full twelve rounds.” His eyes met hers and he smiled. She wanted to believe him. She needed to believe him. He must have been getting better.

“I just pulled a major power move,” she said. “I’m waiting for Bryson to get here so we can tell you all about it.”

Hunter raised his eyebrows. “Oh, do tell. Do tell.”

“Okay.” She sat next to him on the bed. “Well, I guess I can give you the background before Bryson gets here, and then he can help me tell the rest.”

Hunter coughed again and licked his lips. “I’m thirsty.”

“Oh.” Kallie moved to get him some water. “Anyway,” she continued, handing him the water, “I found out yesterday that Max Weisman tried to go behind our back and cast the film. He told Bryson that Stephen Soderbergh would be the director, and Eliza Johnston the female lead.”

Hunter drank sloppily. Kallie had to steady the cup for him, as his hand was shaking. Water ran down his chin. “That damn equipment is faulty,” he rasped.

“Equipment?” she said. “What equipment?”

Hunter’s head dropped back to the pillow. “Nothing. Just…keep talking, Kallie.

I love the sound of your voice.”

She glanced at him again, feeling a strange sense of foreboding, but then she thought maybe he was a little loopy from all the drugs. “I decided to take matters into my own hands,” she said, using a napkin to wipe Hunter’s chin.

His eyelids fluttered. “You did?”

“I got Eliza’s number—well, Detective Phillips got it for me—“

“And then he probably talked to Einstein,” Hunter slurred.

“What?” Kallie said. “Hunter?”

His eyes were closed and then fluttering.

“Hey, am I too late to tell the story?” Bryson said from the doorway. Kallie turned and looked at him.

“I—I don’t know. I think something might be wrong.” She looked back down at Hunter with mounting anxiety, rapidly turning to fear. “Hunter?” She reached down and touched his face.

His eyelids fluttered but he didn’t respond.

“Hunter!” She reached down and tried to open his eyelids and saw only the whites of his eyes.

Suddenly, the machines started bleeping a loud alarm. Kallie screamed.

“Something’s wrong! Help!” she shouted.

Before she knew it, hospital staff streamed into the room, pushing her back from the bed. “Code Blue!” Someone shouted. “Code Blue!”

Kallie stumbled backwards, her hands flying to her face.

“Out of the room! Nonessential personnel, out of this room now!” One of the nurses shouted.

There were so many people surrounding his bed, that Kallie couldn’t even see him anymore. She screamed and cried, completely unable to think straight.

Someone was hugging her—it was Bryson. He held her to his chest. “It’s okay, Kallie. Kallie, it’s going to be okay.”

But it wasn’t. The sounds of staff yelling and people running to the room was proof that it wasn’t.

***

They were ushered to the waiting room, again. Kallie was out of her mind with terror, inconsolable, sitting on a chair by the window and biting her nails to the quick.

Minutes went by. Scarlett looked at her from a nearby chair. “He’s going to be okay,” she said.

“Yes,” Kallie answered, then went back to ravaging her nails further.

Bryson was pacing the room angrily. “Somebody needs to give us some information here. This is insane.”

“You’re the one who’s acting insane,” Scarlett told him. “You’re going to upset her.”

Bryson looked at Scarlett. “She’s already about as upset as a human being can get.”

“Just calm down,” Scarlett said.

“We need answers.”

Scarlett shook her head and rolled her eyes. “This isn’t some bar where you can get the bouncer to let you in if you yell loud enough. It’s a hospital.”

Bryson’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know about hospital etiquette?”

“I know you’re not helping anyone.” She looked away from him.

He shook his head, and moved away from her.

Kallie noticed this stuff, but none of it could make anything better or worse. She was already so far down a hole that nothing could bring her back. Nothing but good news about Hunter’s well-being.

When Detective Phillips entered the waiting room, she got up and ran to him. He had been able to stay behind when the staff forced the visitors into the waiting room.

“How is he?” she cried. “Is he going to be okay?”

Phillips sighed. “It was touch and go for a few minutes.” His face told the story of how close it must have been—he looked absolutely haggard, like he’d aged ten years in the last half an hour. “They appear to have stabilized him now, but he’s still very sick.”

Kallie closed her eyes. “I knew he was sick. I knew it. Why didn’t I listen to myself?”

“It’s not your fault,” Phillips said. “Even the nurses and doctors thought he was improving.”

“I need to talk to somebody. I want information,” Kallie said.

“I’m pretty sure the surgeon in charge of his case is going to be coming here to talk to you in just a minute.” The detective put a hand on her shoulder.

Kallie walked away from Detective Phillips and folded her arms. She crossed to the window, looking outside. Cars passed down below. She felt a sense of vertigo, like she was falling.

I’m going to lose him, she thought. If I don’t do something, I’m going to lose the man I love—the only man I could ever love this much.

The thought filled her with stark terror.

“Miss Young? Kallie?” The older man’s gravelly voice caused her to turn around.

Dr. Forrest was standing there, watching her with concern. “I came here as quickly as I could to update you on Hunter’s progress,” he said, guiding her away from the others and to a place where they could speak without being overheard easily.

“Is he going to be okay?” she asked, her throat tightening.

The doctor couldn’t quite meet her gaze. He looked to the floor momentarily.

“It’s hard to say.” He finally looked at her again. “He seems to have a fairly serious infection—we think he went into shock from a bacterial infection. We’ve been able to stabilize him for now, but his fever’s spiked to about one hundred and five degrees and we need to bring that down.”

“I’ve been telling you people that he had a fever for two days,” Kallie said. “Why wouldn’t you listen?”

“It’s not always clear what these fevers mean. Sometimes they can be just temporary reactions to surgery, a small inflammation, or a minor infection that runs its course. Other times, such as with Hunter, it becomes very serious indeed. It’s difficult to known when or why it happens.”

Kallie shook her head. “Something feels wrong to me.”

Dr. Forrest nodded. “I understand how frightened you are. But we’re going to be very aggressive in treating this infection, Kallie. We’re going to put him on a very strong course of intravenous antibiotics and we’re going to knock the infection out of him.”

“Are you sure there’s not some other underlying problem?”

“Such as?”

Kallie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe a bullet fragment that’s still lodged in his lung.”

Dr. Forrest’s expression darkened. “I’ve been practicing medicine longer than you’ve been alive. And I can honestly say to you, that I’m quite certain I removed one hundred percent of that bullet from your friend’s lung.”