“You’re getting married?”

“Yeah.”

“To Maya.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean? Details.”

“I asked her to marry me. She said yes. We’re getting married next month. In Joshua Tree. You’ll be my best man.”

“Dude.”

“I know.”

“Dude.”

“I know.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“And this is a secret…”

“Dude, is she pregnant?”

He nods his head and smiles. He rocks back and forth on his feet. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

I grab his hand and pull him in for the biggest hug I’ve ever given him. There are no words. My boy is gonna be a married dad. If it were any of my other friends, I would have said “you’re crazy,” but this guy isn’t crazy. He’s doing love right. What could I possibly have to say to him other than “congratulations” and “I’m so happy for you” and “anything you need, I’m here for you.”

“So how was New York? How’s it going with Lady Duffy?”

“Good and questionable.”

“Elaborate.”

“New York was good. Amazing, actually. But as soon as we left New York everything started to suck. Whatever. Irrelevant.”

“Not entirely irrelevant. Obviously, she’ll be Maya’s maid of honor.”

“Ah. Right. Obviously. Nothing you guys need to worry about. I’m handling things. We’ll be fine.”

“Fine?”

“We’ll get back on track, I’m dealing with it. Nothing for you to concern yourself with, I mean…Next month. Wow. So I should get going with the bachelor party arrangements.”

“Actually, not so much. Since she’s not drinking, I’m not drinking, and we’re just going to do a rehearsal dinner slash party kind of thing at Joshua Tree. Rent a big house we can all hang out in. Hang out with family and friends, listen to music, you know.”

“Oh. Understandable, but disappointing.”

“I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity to arrange some scandalous debauchery for your other friends when their time comes.”

When I finally get the call from my agent about my script—our script—he is totally positive and excited, but he throws a slight curveball.

“Laurie and I both read it this weekend and we’ve been talking about it and looking at the horror scripts that have sold in the last year and we’d just like you guys to do a quick polish of the opening and closing scenes. They’re good, it’s a good hook, but we think if you made it just a little spookier, a little snappier, it could mean the difference between one offer and multiples.”

“Wow. Okay. Any suggestions?”

They never have suggestions.

“Nah, you guys know what you’re doing, just give it one more quick pass, tweak those scenes so they really pop, and we’ll go out with it in two weeks. Not next week, because we already know about three big specs that are going out, so we want to make sure there’s space for yours.”

“Sounds good, man. I’m excited.”

“Laurie’s calling Erin now. Hey, so how’d it go with her, you think you’ll want to work with her again?”

“Absolutely. We’re brilliant together. We’ll partner up again. You can count on it.”

“Okay. Glad to hear it. Laurie had her doubts, but I told her I had a good feeling about you guys. Talk soon.”

“Yeah, thanks Jeff. Bye.”

I decide to give it an hour or so before contacting Erin, in case she hasn’t connected with Laurie yet. I don’t want to have to explain things to her. Truthfully, I’m glad to have this excuse to see where her infuriating head is at, and we’ll see if she decides to contact me first. I’ve jerked off thinking about her so many times since I got back from the airport. It’s been a long time since I’ve been mad at her, and now that I know what she’s like in bed, it just adds fuel to the fire. I’m not proud of the fact that she confused my silence with blowing her off, but if she showed up at my door right now, I would probably never stop making her come.

I read through our script, making notes as I go. We finished it up so quickly on the plane, it’s a miracle that it’s in as good shape as it is. I can see what the agents mean by making it scarier and snappier. It’s do-able. If that’s really all it’ll take to turn it into a spec script that’ll incite a bidding war, then Erin and I have the magic touch. I’ll believe it when I see it, though. Never a good idea to count chickens before they hatch in this business. Especially when they involve psychotic Cornish game hens. I’m still not a hundred percent sure about that scene, however it might just be one of those things that’s so crazy it works.

But man, would I love to shove the news of a bidding war in my brother’s face after this past weekend.

I can’t wait a full hour. I pick up my phone and call Erin. It goes to voicemail after two rings. Maybe she’s on the phone with Laurie now.

I clear my throat and get into business mode. “Hey Duffy, hope you’ve talked to Laurie by now. Great response from them, I think, and I’ve been looking over the script and already have some ideas for the opening and closing scenes. Give me a call, I can come to your place if you want, or your welcome to come here, and we’ll get ‘er done. Bye.”

I hang up.

Ball’s in your court, you little ball-breaker.

As confirmation, I receive an email from Erin Duffy. Not a text—an email.

Hi Scott—glad to hear you have ideas for those scenes already. Why don’t you go ahead and type up your changes and send them to me, and I’ll revise that draft. We don’t need to waste time talking about it.

Look forward to seeing your next draft,

E.D.

You little asshole.

So that’s how it’s going to be.

I am so fucking in love with you, Erin Duffy, but you asked for it.

I told myself I’d do whatever it takes to have you, and here we go.