"Mr. Abrams, Mr. Evans is here to see you," his secretary says.
"Thank you, Phyllis. Send him right in," Artie says.
Mr. Evans walks into the office with a wide smile.
"I'm Sam Evans. Comicbook writer," he says, holding out his hand.
Artie rolls around to the front of his desk to shake Mr. Evan's hand, carefully observing his reaction to the chair. It's one of those moments he uses to size up potential partners. He may not be the most esteemed director in the industry yet, but gone are the days where Artie Abrams has to deal with people who are dicks about his chair, or even worse- having to see constant pitying looks thrown in his direction.
Mr. Evans doesn't skip a beat as he takes in the chair. Artie watches as he notes its presence, but Artie doesn't see any of the signs that Mr. Evans is uncomfortable or is trying really hard not to look uncomfortable.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Evans. I'm Artie Abrams, director," he says, grasping Mr. Evan's warm hand.
"Please, call me Sam," he says.
Artie offers Sam a chair. When he's seated, Artie rolls around to his side of the desk. Mr. Eva- no Sam- is dressed nicely, but upon closer examination it's obvious that his suit is secondhand. He would be lying if he denied that he finds Sam very attractive, but he feels something other than mere physical attraction. There's just something behind Sam's eyes that makes Artie want to learn more.
"I'm Artie."
"Okay then, Artie, what did you think of my comic book?" Sam asks.
"Well…" Artie starts.
"Oh boy, that's never good," Sam says with a small frown.
"No, I really did enjoy your comicbook," Artie says. "I enjoyed it more than almost anything else I've read so far this year."
"It's only Feburary," Sam interrupts.
Artie raises his eyebrows and Sam raises his hands in mock surrender.
"I read a lot. Anyway, it was original and the characters were very well developed. The twist at the end wasn't predictable, but it also wasn't so far out of left field that it wasn't believable. I've been talking to some other people in the business and they all seem receptive to the idea of making it into a movie."
"I am sensing a but," Sam says. "This isn't the first meeting I've had about this. Everyone loves the characters and the plot or whatever. But there is always a but."
Artie bites his lip, sensing Sam's frustration, not just about this but about something else.
"The thing is I can't give you a guarantee right now that it's going to get the green light. I think it's a good story that should be told, and I'd love to be the one to help you tell it on the big screen. The problem is finding a studio and getting money. I know people and I have connections that you're going to need to get this done, but money is always the problem," Artie says.
Sam snorts and shakes his head.
"Tell me about it," Sam says.
Artie quirks an eyebrow.
"In high school my Dad lost his job and we lost our house for a while. We got back on our feet eventually, but it was a rough year or so," Sam says. "We were going to move out of state before all that, but eventually we moved across state to live with some family instead."
"Yeah, the recession hit Ohio hard too," Artie says.
"We were actually going to move to Ohio. Not quite sure where, but it's good to know that we didn't miss out on fabulous financial opportunities," Sam says.
Artie laughs and shakes his head.
"No, you definitely didn't miss out on fabulous in Ohio," Artie says dryly.
"I think I might have missed out on at least one fabulous thing in Ohio," Sam says.
Artie realizes that Sam is eyeing him and starts blushing. He's been trying to ignore the strange tingles in his stomach that started when Sam shook his hand, but it's impossible when Sam's looking at him like that.
"I don't know… Maybe we could talk about Ohio over coffee or dinner sometime?" Artie finds himself asking.
"Mr. Director, are you trying to use your directing powers to seduce me?" Sam says.
"No, wait, I thought you were coming onto me. You shouldn't feel under any pressure- oh my God I am so sorry. I really shouldn't have assumed… I probably just ruined everything," Artie starts babbling.
He bangs his forehead against his hand. This had such promise as a movie if they could get the money together, but now Sam must think he's some kind of sleezy creep. It was like he was back in high school again, word vomiting all over the place.
"Artie… ARTIE," Sam has to yell when Artie won't stop apologizing.
Artie falls silent with a scared expression on his face. Sam holds his hands out to try to calm him.
"You definitely read the signs right, Artie. I wanted you to ask me for coffee, but I didn't know if you'd be interested, and then I made a joke," Sam says.
"Oh…" Artie says.
"Yeah, oh," Sam says.
"Well I'm certainly interested," Artie says.
"You know, since I'm kind of new in town, I don't really know any good places for dinner…" Sam says.
Artie glances at the clock.
"Do you wanna go now?" Artie asks.
"Sure!" Sam says.
Artie grabs his coat and says, "Now you're the one taking advantage. I've got reservations at a very nice restaurant. Very exclusive. You could never get in without my connections."
"No doubt. I'm just manipulating you to get all my deepest desires," Sam says.
As they walk down the street together, something just clicks. The wind blows through their hair just as Artie makes a dorky joke and Sam laughs. There's another tingle in Artie's stomach at his laugh, and he feels like he's near the edge of a precipice.