way, I guess it was. We grew up around some farms, there were a lot of deer, foxes, rabbits … it was country-style living for sure.” He smiled, recalling his affluent upbringing. “How about you?” he asked. “You grew up in Brooklyn, is that right?”
Sunny nodded, chuckled a little. “Yeah, and I didn’t grow up seeing Bambi and Thumper every day, either!”
Malcolm was laughing when a tall white man with brown hair, a bushy beard and glasses emerged from one of the offices. He wore a crumpled white shirt that was unbuttoned at the neck, a pair of olive-colored slacks and worn black shoes. He smiled at Sunny and Malcolm, and Malcolm stood up to greet the man.
“Abe,” Malcolm said. “Good to see you again.”
Sunny watched the two men shake hands as if they hadn’t seen each other in far too long, and then the white man turned to her. “You must be Sunny,” he said. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”
Sunny smiled, rose to her feet. “Thank you,” she said. “And you must be Mr. Childs. I’ve heard a lot about you,” she lied.
“Please, call me Abe,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading them into his office. There were two other men in suits in there along with a new blonde, only this one wore a business suit. Abe introduced them all briefly, explaining that he was the company’s vice president, that the two men were producers and the lady was the head of their marketing department. Sunny forgot everyone’s name but Abe’s and shook hands, looking around at all the plaques, movie posters and photos lining the walls as she took her seat. After a few moments of light banter between Abe and Malcolm about the weather and other unimportant things, they got down to business.
Abe smiled at Sunny as his eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “So, Sunny,” he said, “Malcolm here has told us a little about you, about your story. But we’d like to get to hear it from your mouth, so to speak. What made your story a New York Times bestseller?”
Sunny sat with her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap. “Well, I’m curious to hear what you know so far. What have you shared with them, Malcolm?”
Malcolm nodded, and addressed the producers. “I work with a woman by the name of Ava Ford, who is one of the partners at our firm. Ava represented Sunny and her sister in their book deal with Monarch Publishing and she watched as the book climbed to the top of the bestsellers’ list. One afternoon while on a partner’s retreat she shared with me her sister’s story; how her sister, Jada, and Jada’s best friend—Sunny, here—were on the arms of two of New York’s most notorious drug dealers during their reign in the 1990s. It sounded glamorous until Ava explained that Jada and Sunny had become coke addicts in the midst of it all.” Malcolm paused, realizing that he had been speaking of Sunny as if she weren’t present. “Am I right so far?” he asked.
Sunny nodded, amused by the passion with which he told her story. “You’re right. But the real story is the fact that we survived all the pain and the setbacks and turned our lives around.”
Abe was nodding vigorously. “That would be our fairy-tale ending,” he said, excitedly. “That these two ghetto superstars got their happily ever after.”
Sunny wasn’t so sure she liked the sound of those words as they came out of Abe’s mouth. She squirmed a little in her seat.
Abe noticed.
“I meant ‘ghetto’ in the best way. Perhaps I should have said ‘urban,’ but you get where I’m going with this, right? Two unlikely heroines who overcome the paralyzing power of addiction only to find their happily ever after.”
Sunny nodded, though she didn’t fully agree. She wouldn’t describe the feeling of emptiness and often loneliness that plagued her daily existence as “happily ever after.”
“But we’ve heard that there may be a problem,” Miss Marketing was saying. “Your coauthor has opted out of the
Sunny nodded, chuckled a little. “Yeah, and I didn’t grow up seeing Bambi and Thumper every day, either!”
Malcolm was laughing when a tall white man with brown hair, a bushy beard and glasses emerged from one of the offices. He wore a crumpled white shirt that was unbuttoned at the neck, a pair of olive-colored slacks and worn black shoes. He smiled at Sunny and Malcolm, and Malcolm stood up to greet the man.
“Abe,” Malcolm said. “Good to see you again.”
Sunny watched the two men shake hands as if they hadn’t seen each other in far too long, and then the white man turned to her. “You must be Sunny,” he said. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”
Sunny smiled, rose to her feet. “Thank you,” she said. “And you must be Mr. Childs. I’ve heard a lot about you,” she lied.
“Please, call me Abe,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading them into his office. There were two other men in suits in there along with a new blonde, only this one wore a business suit. Abe introduced them all briefly, explaining that he was the company’s vice president, that the two men were producers and the lady was the head of their marketing department. Sunny forgot everyone’s name but Abe’s and shook hands, looking around at all the plaques, movie posters and photos lining the walls as she took her seat. After a few moments of light banter between Abe and Malcolm about the weather and other unimportant things, they got down to business.
Abe smiled at Sunny as his eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “So, Sunny,” he said, “Malcolm here has told us a little about you, about your story. But we’d like to get to hear it from your mouth, so to speak. What made your story a New York Times bestseller?”
Sunny sat with her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap. “Well, I’m curious to hear what you know so far. What have you shared with them, Malcolm?”
Malcolm nodded, and addressed the producers. “I work with a woman by the name of Ava Ford, who is one of the partners at our firm. Ava represented Sunny and her sister in their book deal with Monarch Publishing and she watched as the book climbed to the top of the bestsellers’ list. One afternoon while on a partner’s retreat she shared with me her sister’s story; how her sister, Jada, and Jada’s best friend—Sunny, here—were on the arms of two of New York’s most notorious drug dealers during their reign in the 1990s. It sounded glamorous until Ava explained that Jada and Sunny had become coke addicts in the midst of it all.” Malcolm paused, realizing that he had been speaking of Sunny as if she weren’t present. “Am I right so far?” he asked.
Sunny nodded, amused by the passion with which he told her story. “You’re right. But the real story is the fact that we survived all the pain and the setbacks and turned our lives around.”
Abe was nodding vigorously. “That would be our fairy-tale ending,” he said, excitedly. “That these two ghetto superstars got their happily ever after.”
Sunny wasn’t so sure she liked the sound of those words as they came out of Abe’s mouth. She squirmed a little in her seat.
Abe noticed.
“I meant ‘ghetto’ in the best way. Perhaps I should have said ‘urban,’ but you get where I’m going with this, right? Two unlikely heroines who overcome the paralyzing power of addiction only to find their happily ever after.”
Sunny nodded, though she didn’t fully agree. She wouldn’t describe the feeling of emptiness and often loneliness that plagued her daily existence as “happily ever after.”
“But we’ve heard that there may be a problem,” Miss Marketing was saying. “Your coauthor has opted out of the
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