Original Cyn Read Online Free PDF

years.”
    “Blimey.”
    “See, it’s already drawing you in, isn’t it? Anyway . . .” By now Hugh was on his feet, pacing. “One of them has murdered this guy in a bar. If he’s found guilty he faces the electric chair. His brother had no part in the murder and is completely innocent. What does the jury do?”
    She sat there, speechless, half expecting him to say, “God, I really had you going there” and announce it was a joke. It was a few seconds before she realized he wasn’t joking and that he actually believed somebody in Hollywood was going to take this seriously. “Wow, so what does the jury do?”
    “I’ve brought you a copy of the screenplay,” he said. The shoulder bag he’d been carrying when he arrived was sitting on the floor by the living room door. He went over and pulled out a thick manuscript. “I’ve called it
My Brother, My Blood, My Life
. You can read it and find out what happens. I see the whole thing as a philosophical allegory, a metaphor if you will, for the futility of human struggle.” He sat back down next to her.
    “O . . . K,” she said slowly. “I can see that.” In fact, she couldn’t remotely see it.
    “You’ll be able to say more when you’ve read it, but what do you think in principle?”
    “I . . . er. I think it’s good.” She saw his face collapse. “No, what am I saying? It’s more than just good. It’s sparkling, original and deep. Very deep. Deeply profound.”
    “Thanks, Cyn,” he beamed. “God, you know I’m really excited about this one.” She took the screenplay from him, kissed him on the forehead and said she hoped he made a million. Some hopes. A month from now the rejection would arrive and he would be sitting alone in a darkened room, sticking pins into effigies of the brothers Warner.
    “So,” he said, changing the subject, “how on earth
did
you end up getting a car that doubles as an ad for Anusol?”
    She explained how there had been two cars on offer and that both were meant to be from drug companies. “But when Chelsea went to the garage last night, it turns out that one is from Stella McCartney. Not only that, but it arrived early.”
    Hugh raised an eyebrow. “How wonderfully convenient.”
    “Yes, I know. The thought had occurred to me.”
    “What’s your relationship like with her? Do you get on?”
    Cyn told him about the “well done,
you
” remark and how she thought Chelsea saw her as a rival. “But I guess it is possible the whole car thing could be a coincidence.”
    “Yeah, right. And Elton John’s hair is natural.”
    “But Chelsea is loaded, why would she be that bothered about getting one up on me?”
    “You’ve just said it—she sees you as a rival. It’s as simple as that. Look, I know you want to give her the benefit of the doubt, but I’m telling you, if you get any nicer you are in danger of growing big floppy ears and waking up one morning to find yourself starring in a Disney cartoon.”
    “Huge, you’re missing the point. I don’t have any evidence that she knew about the Anusol car and until I do, I’m not about to risk making false accusations.”
    It was then that she realized she hadn’t checked her answer machine to see if Chelsea had left a message last night to say she wouldn’t be able to meet her at the car showroom. She got up, went over to the phone. No messages were registered on her caller display.
    “See,” Hugh said, “she didn’t even bother to make up an excuse. She just went ahead and did the dirty.”
    “We don’t know that,” Cyn insisted. “There could be an explanation.” Hugh rolled his eyes as if to say “I give up.”
    Cyn’s therapist, Veronica, was always telling her that she was “too damned nice.” During a one-on-one session, Cyn had mentioned how hard it had been to chuck her last boyfriend, Mark.
    He was gorgeous and the sex had been brilliant, the best she’d had. Ever. When Mark went down on her, the earth didn’t merely move, it shifted