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inch of me yearned to run my
fingers through his hair, unbutton that crisp linen shirt, and slide my hungry
hands over the thick muscular chest that I knew was lying beneath all those
sexy threads.        
     
      No. No. No. I had to keep it
together. I quickly pulled myself out of my trance. I desperately needed
something to busy myself with until I could calm myself down. “Jason, can I get
you a coffee? Or water?”
     
      Jason smiled at me gratefully.
“Coffee sounds perfect.”
     
      “I’d like a refill too.” I looked
back at Julian, his gaze steady, unrelenting. I gave him a quick nod, tore away
my eyes, and looked at Paul expectantly. “Refill for you as well?” he nodded,
but his expression was slightly solemn. I grabbed the carafe from the mahogany
bar at the far end of the boardroom, a cup for Jason, and some sugar and milk
packets.
     
      He gave me another grateful smile
when I placed his steaming mug before him. I quickly filled up Paul’s mug, and
then Julian’s. When I leaned over Julian, my hair fell forward, and brushed his
face. He inhaled sharply, and I saw his whole body stiffen. “That’s enough,
Sarah,” he said in a raspy voice that sent a charge of electricity shooting
through me.
     
      “So, Jason,” Paul began once we
had all settled in. “That’s quite a script you wrote.”
     
      Jason glanced at Paul, his
expression unsure at first, but then it became confident. “Thank you,” he said
forcefully. “I kinda killed myself putting it together.”
     
      Both Paul and Julian chuckled.
“The writer’s curse,” Paul finally said. “But the final product is absolutely
brilliant.” Paul leaned forward and looked at Jason intently. “I’m sure it
comes as no surprise to you that we want to sign you. To say the least, we’re
impressed with your talent. But we also both need to figure out whether we’re a
good fit.”
     
      Jason nodded, took a sip of his coffee,
and looked deep in thought for a moment. “The thing for me is, it’s not all
about the money. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I want to do this for a living. If
I could give up bartending and take this up as a full time gig, well, man, I’d
be stoked.” He drummed his fingers on his coffee mug, then grabbed it between
both hands and leaned forward. His expression became intense, earnest. “The
thing is, artistic integrity is also important to me. I want the right director
for the script. Someone who believes in the project, and won’t just buy it up
and leave it sitting in development indefinitely while he goes on to do other
projects.”
     
      Paul nodded decisively. “Okay.
I’m with you. I have three directors in mind right now who I think would be
thrilled to take your script all the way to the finish line. But I can’t
promise anything. I have to check in with them and see what they’re working on
now, and whether they have time to invest in something new.”
     
      Jason’s brow scrunched up, and
his expression became slightly pained. “I get that you can’t give me a
guarantee, but before I sign on with you, I’d like you to contact those
directors you have in mind. You know, to see if they’re likely to be serious.”
     
      Paul frowned slightly, and sat
back in his chair. “We usually only seek out script sales for people who are
already our clients.” Jason’s face closed off, but Paul caught his eye with an
honest, earnest look, and Jason’s face opened up again. “You have to understand
our position,” Paul continued. “If we get a director sold on a project that we
don’t even have the right to represent, we’ll look like fools if you turn
around and decide to go with someone else.”
     
      Jason nodded, and ran a hand
through his hair. Then he let out a long sigh, and locked eyes again with Paul.
“What made my script stand out?” he asked. “I mean, what is it that grabbed
you? I need to see where you’re coming from, you know? To know that you see