At the Bottom of a Well
by channelD
written for: the NFA Thom E Gemcity the Writer challenge
rating: K plus
genre: drama
warning: very mild season 5 references/season 6 speculation
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Part I
"Yee-owww!!"
Tim yelped as the hot pan of marinara sauce slipped from his hands. The pan clattered to the floor and sauce flew everywhere. Without looking down, Tim knew that his new 700 shearling jacket was now wearing his dinner's sauce. More than likely, it was ruined.
Now he understood why his mother never cooked dinner while in her work clothes. Momentarily, he panicked at the thought of wearing an apron—and having Tony find out about it. He'd just have to wear old, casual clothes from now on; that was all there was to it.
But first to the matter at hand: take off the jacket and wipe it off as best as he could, wipe up the mess on the floor, order in a pizza. As annoying as it was to have to replace this coat (only purchased last week!), at least he could afford to do so. All thanks to Thom E. Gemcity.
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Thom E. Gemcity! The renowned writer of two (so far!) best-sellers of criminal investigation mysteries. He was a bit of a man of mystery, declining to go on talk shows, and only appearing at a few, select book signings. The photo on the inside back flap of the dust jacket showed a man (apparently of means) in shadows, looking oh-so-cool without being unapproachable. It had taken hours in the photographer's studio to get just the right look. Tim had wanted the photo to have an air different from his own, so he would be less likely to be recognized and mobbed on the street. And so far, it had worked. All the pleasures of being famous with none of the troubles.
Thanks to his alter ego of Thom E. Gemcity, Tim could afford a number of luxuries. Besides the little pampering he treated himself to in the form of expensive clothing, a Porsche, and electronics, he was branching out. Recent purchases included a time-share in the Bahamas, and for his parents' upcoming 35th anniversary, a cruise around Africa. He'd also withdrawn a sizeable portion of his savings and plunged it into an investment that was fairly risky, but which could pay off very handsomely if things went right.
It was nice to be the other side of Thom E. Gemcity, and not have any money worries.
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No news yet on his third book. The first three chapters of his manuscript had been at his publisher's for over two weeks now. She hadn't called or emailed him. She wasn't returning his phone calls. Odd…
When Tim finally got a live person at the company, it was a man answering Ms. Crawshaw's line. "She's no longer with the firm," he said. "I'm Derek Fisher, taking her place. Can I help you with something?"
Tim explained who he was—who Gemcity was, he added quickly to cover Fisher's silence. The Gemcity name always made people snap to attention.
"Well, I am new to this department," said Fisher. "The manuscript doesn't ring a bell with me. I'll look around and get back to you."
Tim hung up, wondering what the confusion was. And why had Crawshaw left? She must have gotten a better job offer. He shrugged and got online as his dog, Jethro, roused himself from his dog bed and put his muzzle in Tim's lap. "Good dog," Tim said, absently, scratching his neck. Jethro's dog bed was pretty standard; purchased in haste from the closest pet store when Abby had thrust Jethro upon him. Although Jethro would never complain, Tim was sure he could find something better for his furry friend.
He found a popular dog furnishings site. Ah, yes; that looks nice. "Do you like this, Jethro?" Tim asked, pointing at the screen. Jethro only sat and grinned at him, panting. "Well, I'm going to order it for you. See, it's like a little couch, in that donut shape you dogs like. We'll get a really nice fabric, too. Micro-suede. What color would you prefer? The blue? Yeah, I like that one, too. And how about a matching throw?" A few clicks and it was ordered. With shipping and handling, it all came to over 400, which was more than four times what Tim had spent on Jethro's current dog bed. No matter. Money was not a consideration anymore.