The one thing no one needed was Paul Rogers with nothing to do. I finished the last assignment in my book two weeks ago and my agent booked five episodes for me in the future. Most of the shows were in hiatus until the beginning of summer, that was four weeks away and no one was booking anything right now. I could only play so much golf, and I took to taking long car drives just to get out of people's hair. I even went to visit my father-in-law, but he was not at home. I needed something to keep my hands busy, and rewriting Sara, and my memoir script did not interest me right now. Sara noticed my agitation.
"Paul I can't have you sitting around here with nothing to do. You will drive me and Paula crazy," she said after storming into my office on a Thursday morning. The previous day I had wandered between the kitchen and Sara's office driving folks nuts. She then informed me that she had to visit the ranch to check on a legal matter and would be back tomorrow. At least that is what I thought I heard.
"Are you sure that you are not just getting away from me," I responded and then wished that I had not said anything.
The look on Sara's face was something I did not want to see again, I apologized, by practically getting on my knees. "Find something to do before I get back," she said and then kissed me.
I guess I was out of the doghouse for now. Sara walked out and I saw she and William get in her car and leave. I did have an idea percolating in my mind and I decided to start the process. In the garage I found some left over construction stakes from the pool build. I had enough experience growing up in laying out buildings so, I got a tape measure and started to lay out the foundation for a pool cabana. I had no idea if we could build back here but we needed a place where guests could change and an outdoor kitchen and bar. On the second floor I imagined offices for Sara and me, in case we needed to convert our current offices to bedrooms.
I laid out the proposed size and drove stakes in the corners. I would need to engage our architect, Ms. Bell to fully realize my vision. But step one was getting Sara to sign off on the plan. My maneuvering attracted Paula's attention and she walked out to the pool deck to see what I was up to. I explained to her what I was doing, and she walked back into the house, without comment.
I finished and made a quick sketch of the lay out and the size, Ms. Bell would need to fully render my idea into a finished building design. I decided to get an appointment with the architect as soon as I could arrange it. Then my phone started playing "Hail to the Chief." What did Bret want I wondered?
"Yes, Ma'am how much am I in trouble with you," I said.
"What are you talking about, I was calling to see if you wanted to have dinner with us tonight. I know that Sara is away, and I thought that you would need a sympathetic shoulder," said Bret.
My antenna started to grow remembering the last time I was flying solo and Bret and George invited me to dinner. That sent me on an almost two-week vacation.
"I am intrigued, what did my wife put you up to, how is the evening going to end?" I asked.
"Being a little defensive, aren't we? There are no plans other than to pick your brain, maybe get you a little tipsy. I need you to sign off on an idea I have," said Bret.
After she assured me that there was no nefarious plan afoot, we agreed to have them come over at about six thirty. I almost suggested that we get delivery and eat over here, but she said that she would be picking up the tab. I was not one to turn down a free meal, especially if I was not working. After hanging up with Bret I called Ms. Bell's office and explained that I wanted a consultation on a project I had in mind. I was lucky and she had time available tomorrow, so we agreed to meet the next day.
What I really wanted to do was to lay next to my wife smell her perfume and admire her breasts and pussy. Mix a martini for her and tell her how much I love her. Then get between her legs and either give her the best blow job I could or make love to her, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. I walked into the house and asked Paula if she knew the time that Sara would be back.
"No sir, I would have thought that she would have told you."
"Let's just say that when she told me she was going to the ranch, we had a small argument and all I got was she would be back tomorrow," I said.
"I thought I felt a north wind blow by when she walked out this morning, now I understand why," said Mrs. Kelly.
I informed Paula that Bret and George were taking me to dinner and that I should return this evening. "Bret swore that there were no plans other than dinner," I said.
The house's land line started to ring "Rogers-Solsbery household Paula Kelly speaking." There was a pause while Paula listened to the caller.
"Ms. Solsbery is not here right now, ... I am not at liberty to say where she is or when she will return, I will gladly take a message and have her return the call," Paula wrote down the person's name and phone number and said that she would bring it to Ms. Solsbery's attention.
When she put the phone down, I asked who called? She said that it was a producer for a morning news program and wanted to get an interview with Sara concerning the Winter's case. "It is the third time he's called today."
"They're trained to be annoying he must have called the law office and somehow got the land line number from them and now you are catching the traffic."
I began to wonder if someone at the three-letter government agency let it slip about Sara's involvement in the investigation. The news show couldn't get members of the agency to sit for an interview, but they could try to interview witnesses. Even though Sara's involvement was minor any information about the investigation would be news.
I picked up my phone and touched Sara's entry and waited to connect.
"Darling I am kind of busy."
"Paula has been getting calls from a morning show producer have you been ducking them?" I asked.
"The last thing I need is to go on TV, but no I have not been ducking anyone. Did you find something to do?" asked Sara.
"I am meeting with Ms. Bell tomorrow about a project, and Bret and George are taking me out to dinner. She said that she has a project she wants to discuss with me. Unless there is some other reason, she would want to take me out and get me drunk," I replied.
"Stay away from that woman. That is what got you sick a year and a half ago," said Sara.
"I already accepted, I also wanted to tell you that I love you and miss you."
Sara and I signed off after she told me that she would be back late.
I retired to my office and opened the memoir script file and paged through it not really seeing anything that needed changing. I knew that it needed to be rewritten but I was not the person to do that job. I wondered what kind of a project Bret had up her sleeve. I would soon learn. I was still thinking that Bret and Sara had something cooking but I guess I would see what later today. My phone rang and it was Paula telling me that she was leaving and would be back in the morning. I looked at the clock and noticed that it was close to five. So, I decided to have a martini, since Bret and George were providing transport.
I was finishing my second cocktail when I saw Bret's SUV pull into the driveway. Both she and George got out of the car. I met them at the back door inviting them in.
"You can build us one of your famous martinis that Sara brags about," said Bret as she stormed into the house like she owned the place.
"Sara told me to be wary about you she blamed you for the flu I had a year and a half ago."
"It was twelve months ago, and I had nothing to do with that, she is just making up stories," said Bret.
I handed the cocktails to Bret and George and I poured one for me. Bret and George sat down, again like they owned the place. It looked like we weren't leaving any time soon. We finished the first round and Bret held up her glass like she wanted a refill.
"What is going on, I have never seen you drink like this?" I asked Bret.
"We are waiting, George said that dinner would be here the at the same time we arrived but that seems not to be the case," Bret replied.
As if on cue the front door camera popped on and I saw a delivery person at the front door. George got up and answered the door and came back with several bags filled with dinner. He walked into the dining room and started unpacking the bags. Bret and I followed but I veered off to the kitchen and pulled plates and glasses and flatware.
Packed in with the dinner was a pitcher of iced tea. I was glad that Sara was away she hates iced tea and we would have had to listen to her complaints. I had to agree with her after I tasted the watered-down brew. The dinner was good, and it was good to have friends around. We finished with Bret asking, almost demanding another martini. I have known her and George for almost seven years and never seen her drink as much as she had this evening. I wondered what was going on.
I got up and mixed a pitcher of drinks and brought the pitcher and three cocktail glasses into the dining room. While I was away the dishes were stacked and the various clamshells were deposited in the bags, they came in. Laid out on the table was a thick folder. Bret paused and took a sip of her cocktail.
"Ok Paul I had an idea about producing the next "Sex in the City" using your memoir script as the basis. I commissioned Brent Stone to write a pilot using the meeting between you and Sara as the jumping off point. Sara remains an attorney and a member of the aristocracy, but your character is a scriptwriter and sometime private detective,"
"You mean a busy body," I said.
I then told her that Sara and I needed to see some money before things got really serious. Bret said that she understood and would negotiate with me and Sara later about credit and compensation. I also said that I didn't like my character. But we didn't talk any further.
Since the window in the dining room was higher than normal, I could not see a car move into the garage. It wasn't until the door opened and heard a familiar voice that I realized that Sara was home.
Sara stormed into the dining room demanding to know what was going on. I rose and embraced her and kissed her.
"That is fine darling, but what are George and Bret doing here?"
"They brought dinner and we were discussing the next project for Bret's company," I replied.
"It is good that you are here because that I will need to get you to sign off on this also," said Bret.
