Free His Every Defense by Kelly Favor

didn’t know what the term ‘option’ even meant, when it came to screenplays. She stuttered and stumbled momentarily. “Well, we want to discuss that. We want all the options on the table.”
    “Oh. Okay.”
    He sounded confused. And why wouldn’t he be?
    “If you’re interested,” she continued, “I’d like to take some time and reach out to…various contacts in the industry and see what I come up with. Can I represent your script, Bryson?”
    “Yeah. By all means. I mean, I don’t have an agent or anything. I guess I thought that since you’re a production company, you’d offer me money to option the screenplay…”
    “Of course, that’s a strong possibility,” she lied. “But I also want to see what other options are available for this script.”
    “Right,” he said, sounding more confident now. “That makes sense. I suppose you need to find a director and some big names to attach to it. Are you going to try and partner with another production house?”
    She licked her lips and wiped a bead of sweat from her temple. “Like I said, I’m keeping all options on the table right now. But I just wanted to check in with you before I reached out to my…you know…contacts in the industry.”
    “Well, you have my blessing,” he laughed. “Go forth and prosper. Or help me prosper. Whatever.”
    She laughed. “Great. I’ll be in touch as soon as I have anything new to tell you.”
    “Thanks. Thanks so much for believing in my screenplay,” he said.
    And then they were done.

    ***
    Kallie barely slept the rest of the night. Her thoughts raced and she kept running through all kinds of scenarios—most of them embarrassing disasters that ended with her in tears, apologizing to Hunter and poor Bryson Taylor, who thought he had a professional working on his behalf now.
    Hunter’s alarm went off at just before six, and he slid out of bed, threw on a pair of pants and a t-shirt, and padded downstairs.
    Kallie slid up in bed, watching him go. Before long, she would need to take some kind of action. She was going to have to tell Hunter what she’d done, and ask for his help.
    He would be furious, she realized. Absolutely furious.
    First things first, she got in the shower and then got dressed. Because of her bad ankle (which had improved significantly enough that she could now put weight on it for short periods of time), it took her longer to shower and change.
    Eventually, she went downstairs and had herself a cup of Hunter’s insanely strong coffee. It tasted like he made it out of nuclear grade coffee grinds.
    She re-read Bryson’s screenplay as she drank coffee and had some toast, all the while trying to decide how to move forward with her promise to try and get the thing made.
    And then a stroke of luck occurred.
    About an hour or two later, Hunter emerged from his seclusion and held out his phone to her. At first, Kallie was frightened—assuming that Bryson was calling her back on Hunter’s cell.
    But Hunter wasn’t annoyed or angry. “Nicole’s on the line for you,” he said simply.
    Smiling brightly, Kallie took the phone from him, and he turned and went back to his office to continue working.
    “Nicole?”
    “Red and I were just talking. We need to help you get a new phone, if you haven’t gotten one yet. Have you spoken to anybody in your family since the…the incident?”
    Kallie thought about it. “No, I haven’t. I’ve just been so focused on healing and everything.”
    “Well, we’re going to bring a new phone over today. You shouldn’t be without one for so long. Besides,” she said, “how am I going to bother you if you don’t have one?”
    “Okay, now I know the real reason you want me to have it.” Kallie laughed and Nicole joined in.
    They spent a few minutes talking about little Riley, who apparently was thriving and happy and developing perfectly. Nicole mentioned that she’d gone and visited Red’s mother in the hospital the previous day, and that Erica had