“Do you treat all your visitors like this?”
“Just you.” He kissed the back of my head and let me go, going behind his brown desk. Unbuttoning his jacket, he sat down, leaning back in the seat. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Darcy?”
“It’s still Ms. Harper for another two weeks—”
“Minor details.” He smirked. “Aren’t you going to get on with it?”
Rolling my eyes, I opened the folder. I put the paper down on his desk. “I would like to pitch a movie idea to you.”
“The Human Condition?” he read aloud. “A love story about a young couple and how their lives drastically change when one of them is diagnosed with a mental illness. I get what this story means you, to us, but it’s been done before.”
“Yeah, but not often through the eyes of the person with the illness. Readers, movie watchers, we all trust the narrator to set the story. But I think we have someone who seems totally normal tell the story. It might give better insight to those looking at mental illness from an outside perspective. I didn’t have schizophrenia, but I did live as someone who did and was treated that way. At Crossroads, I met a few very good people. I want a story for them.”
He stared at me. “It’s going to need a sexier edge to it and maybe a hotter title.”
“Like the couple meeting at a sugar baby party?” I chuckled, and so did he. His green eyes seemed to shine.
“Sure. What about the title? Calling it Sugar Daddy might send the wrong message.”
“How about Sugar Baby Beautiful?” I replied.
He looked confused. “What does that mean?”
“I’d like to think it means the kind of beauty even the richest people can’t buy.”