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Erased: "The Final Chapter"

Erased, a novel

Chapter 37- Off the Table 


Kayla- His eyebrows are white and gray, bushy, and scrunched together as he moves through the documents I brought. His nostrils and distractingly flaring up and down.  I can't see his eyes, but I assume they're moving as quickly as his fingers.  My fear has surmounted.  It's the second time he's read over this report, and the matter has his full attention.  I also brought with me the copies of the contract I signed.  There's just one signature at the end of it all.  The pages aren't numbered, and all of a sudden the width of the problem can be sized up.  The terms I don't remember are in bold.  Hard to miss.  Likewise, they're hard to forget.  The whole paragraph amounts to a loss of authorship.  Not immediately, but after the third printing.  The report he's rereading is about one author who made complaints after discovering her own book on bookshelves and dressed with a new name and author. She was one of the two who died in a car accident. There was never a formal legal complaint made, and it was eventually forgotten.  Perhaps that's the destiny of Renegotiating Kayla and A Better Pair of Shoes, except we're here, and I have a shot at the terms.

He looks up over his specs a few times and rings his mouth to the left, but doesn't utter a word.  I'm breathing but barely.  Then his first words since the door first closed.  It comes just as he goes back to that bolded paragraph that makes me cringe every time I read it.

"Name your terms?" It was direct.  His voice was firm.  His eyes a little glossy.  Interestingly enough, I hadn't prepared entirely.  I wanted to hear his thoughts, but he didn't crack. I considered all I had presented, all the people who hadn't gotten this far, and I took a long shot.  At the end of my terms, I was asked to let Tayeton back in.  When he took his seat, Mr. Simpleton brought him up to speed, and the speed was... all that I'd asked for and a welcome back unboard for Tayeton.  What came next was a defining moment for the Simpletons.  It was the moment I understood why the name Simpleton.  It's not very emotional the method, and if it is, it never comes to the surface.  It's simple math, and economics.  This is something I understand.  All I needed to know was what economies were important to The Simpletons.  It wasn't very important for me as an author, but it was for the job offer than came after Tayeton left us behind for good.

I couldn't answer at the moment.  It was generous, but I hadn't forgotten the conversation I had with Heather Fellow.  I hadn't forgotten her heavy eyes, and the way she looked around before letting us in.  I thought about what Wood would say, and I was prepared to see it his way.  After all he'd proven his way and his wisdom.  I left Mr. Simpleton with my gratitude, and my promise to return my answer within a few days.  There was no time to get stuck.  I had a big exhibition coming up.


Coming Up...
Part 2


Kayla- We're in the Design District.  I'm dressing my final head.  Jennifer and I have been working on the opening of Jennifer Burrows for months.  The place is glowing.  The people have been flowing in steadily all day.  It's completely opened to crashers, but that didn't shrink the size of the list of people who got a personal invite.  I got my last update ten minutes ago... it was five minutes, but we're still going.  They're looking up at all the frazzle.  It's part of the exhibit, and all of the touch ups are happening in the area outside the salon.  The final call comes, it's another five minutes.  Then, the light goes out in the loft.  Everyone's startled, but before long, there's neon colored lights everywhere and a few white ones.  All of the models are lined off along the rail, and there's neon tape in their hair and lining their outfits in offbeat places. There are spot lights shinning up on them.  I'm in position behind Jennifer.  We're taking the brightly lit staircase down first.  As we join the party to great applause, I'm eager to look up and see the plan in play.  It's spectacular, and the audience is buzzing and busily pointing out the details they can catch.  They change position a few times as the guests await their arrival.  When they've gotten everyone's attention, the ground level also goes dark and then fills up with more neon lights.  Only the staircase can be seen with full accuracy, and that's exactly where all eyes land.  After the last model reaches the final landing, all the lights come up and the models take to the party.  They only get a few steps in before the first hand reaches up to touch on one of the pompadours and then a close first begins to pet one of the jackets.  It's all accomplished, and I'm tapping the bar for a drink.  Before I can get a sip, he's there and behind him a lot of familiar faces.  We hang our anchor there until it's all over.  The next morning I unveil Mr. Simpleton's offer.  We're laying side by side with our eyes to the ceiling when the words hit the sheets and Wood's head takes a sharp turn.

"Are you kidding?" His face was stuck between "you didn't decline" and "what does he really want". 

"No, It's real and I promised him an answer on Monday."

"You trust him?"

"Not wholeheartedly, but I trust the moment.  It feels natural to me."

"Why didn't you say anything?"
"It's just with the opening..."
"I get a bad feeling.  I don't know, it's just your father's warnings were strong not to mention true.  Why else did he settle the terms so quickly."

"I don't know.  I just thought it would be fun."

"Fun?  You were there when we spoke to Heather.  This is your life."

"I know." I did know, and I was sure I would trust his judgements, but now I was inspired by Mr. Simpleton's vision and offer.  Now I was completely wavered.  I turned on my side, and closed my eyes.  I tried to see if I could here anything.  Like God talking to me, but all I got were kisses on my ears.  I questioned my ability to negotiate contracts when I couldn't even come to a decision, but I started by negotiating myself some space.

"Would it be okay if I make the decision on my own?"

"Fine, but be careful." That was the last we spoke of it, and when we got to the court on Monday all the sweat I'd been holding onto escaped.  When the doors closed, again our eyes were gazing.  The ignition came on and the moment felt like one that should be seized, so I seized it.

"I'm taking the offer." There was no response. It was not the end of the world.  I knew that now; that life always has more road, and we were taking it.


Start Erased now:
https://thedecksandtheroad.blogspot.com/2018/05/erased-dedication-and-introduction.html

Coming up:
Join the Suspended-Release of the third and final book of this series beginning on Feb. 14, 2019.





Erased, a novel

Copyright 2018 by Natisha Renee Williams, All Rights Reserved

Grace Call Communications, LLC Copyright 2018

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