AUTHOR'S NOTE: The best review so far has been the one from PhaserLady where she wrote one simple word – "Bastard." Yup, that sums it up. I'm not sure if she means Colin or Josh, but if it's Josh, he's about to redeem himself, folks. Then we get to the stuff that's going to be REALLY hard to write.
Also – props to my significant other because "craptaculous" is his term and to Susie for "I am the cowboy, you are the cow." I told you I would work it in somewhere.
And another small aside – Having watched "The Dover Test" last night, I fear for these two characters (Josh and Donna) and what John Wells has in store.
PHOTOGRAPHS (6)
The New York sky was grey and dismal, matching Josh's mood as he sat in the conference room, looking out the large plate glass windows and deciding, once again, that he didn't like New York. It always seemed to rain during his visits, making the city even more depressing.
Colleen Buchanan had been gracious when they met early that morning. Josh had shown up at the offices of Newsweek at about 8:40, hoping he had arrived before Colin, and called up for the editor as soon as he got into the lobby. Colleen assured him he was the first to show and while the two did not discuss the details of her conversation with C.J., Josh was sure that Colleen knew the reason for his visit.
"Just take a seat in here, Mr. Lyman. When Mr. Ayers arrives, I'll have him shown in."
With that, Josh had taken a seat in one of the deep, leather executive chairs and turned his back on the conference room, contemplating the turn of events that had led him to this point in his life.
The noise of the door opening woke him from his reverie and he steeled himself for the meeting to come. Taking a deep breath, he spun the chair around and took a look at Colin Ayers standing at the other end of the table.
"Not who you expected, is it?" Josh asked, rising from the chair and turning to stand behind it. "Go ahead, take a seat."
"I think I prefer to stand," Colin replied, clearly shaken at the presence of the Deputy Chief of Staff of the White House in a meeting he thought would be a simple business deal with a magazine.
"I don't think you understood me. I wasn't asking. Sit down." Josh had his hands on the back of the chair – mostly to keep himself from clenching them – and the chair served as a physical barrier preventing him from climbing across the table and beating the life out of the man on the other side.
Colin thought for a moment and then leisurely took a seat at the opposite end of the conference room table. He surveyed Josh with a somewhat distanced air, giving the impression there were one hundred other things he would rather be doing at that point in time.
"You know why we are both here," Josh started, "so we can cut through the polite shit and get down to business."
Colin began to speak, but Josh cut him off.
"No. You will sit there and listen to me and when we are done, you will leave and this matter will be finished."
Josh continued, "I've seen the photographs. Nice work."
"It's what I do," Colin interjected.
"Oh, I don't doubt that," Josh smirked, "Tell me something… did you feel even the smallest amount of remorse when you cashed the check you got for those photographs? Did you think of her bleeding in that car at all when you sold them? Because I can't imagine sleeping with a woman one night, watching her burn in a car the next and still stopping to take pictures, let alone selling them for money. Did your conscience bother you even the smallest bit?"
Colin opened his mouth again, but the steely tone in Josh's voice stopped him before a sound came out.
"It took me a while to figure out that you were the one to send her that magazine. An exceptionally touching gesture, now that I think about it. Trying to soften her up before it appeared in the more major American news journals?"
"I wanted…" the photographer started.
"Shut up. I'm talking and I don't give a fuck what you want… Let me tell you something, the minute you sold those pictures, you traded away the rest of your life to me. I have at my disposal the Secret Service, the 110th Mountain Division and the 82nd Airborne, let alone the power of the President of the United States, if I were to tell him what is going on here. You can rest assured that for the rest of your days, I will have someone watching you. If you take a piss in the woods in Iceland, I will know which tree you used and how long it took. If you eat dinner at a restaurant in Bombay, I'll know how much it cost, who you were with and where you fucked her afterward. It's awfully hard to do a job like yours when you're surrounded and watched, because I guarantee you that if I know where you are, everyone else in every country you visit will know as well. You will be wearing a bullseye on your back no matter what deserted wasteland you try and escape to. You are a cow, and I, my friend, I am the cowboy and I will have a rope around your neck so tight that you will wish you had never stopped to talk to her that day in the bar. And more than anything, I assure you, God as my witness, you hurt her again and there is nowhere in this world you will hide from me."
Colin looked at Josh and blinked.
"No one hurts her without going through me," Josh stated, staring down the Irishman, "and now you have to go through me."
Josh slid a document across the table to Colin, "Sign it."
"What?"
"I said, 'Sign it.'" Josh repeated, an angry tone now sliding into what had been a previously calm voice.
"What is it?" Colin asked, picking up the document and beginning to read.
"It is a Confidentiality Agreement. You won't discuss this meeting, you won't discuss your relationship with Donna, and you will not sell those photographs to anyone else. Ever."
"I'm not signing this! You're crazy!" Colin laughed, throwing the papers down on the table.
Josh crossed his arms and took a deep breath, "I don't think you understand me. Sign the Agreement. Take your miserable life and get out of here. Do it. And if I ever see those photographs again, what I do to you legally will be the least of your problems."
The two men stared at one another. It was a game of chicken and Colin blinked first.
Reaching for a pen from the table, he signed the Agreement, threw down the pen, picked up his bag and started for the door. Opening the door, he heard Josh's voice behind him. Turning, he saw the other man in profile, staring out the window to the busy street below.
"You know, you have yourself to thank for this…" Josh started. "You told me not to take her for granted." At this, Josh turned his head to look at the photographer.
"You can rest assured that I am not."
(To be continued.)
