The Good Provider Read Online Free PDF Page A

England.
    Unfortunately, January was still the worst time for his business. Privately, he called it post-holiday distress month. None of his clients were happy, and everyone wanted something William was powerless to give them—a part in that new sure-to-break-box-office-records movie, micro changes to already eye-straining fine print on a perfectly adequate contract, permission to bring a pet snake back into the country. The latter was part of a thirty-message text conversation with JoE, a rapper who had more money than common sense.

    Dude, du somting now. LAX sucks. Nazi snake patrol coming 4 him.

    William sat forward to read this latest message.
    With a groan, he put one hand to his face and squeezed his temples. “What, JoE?” he muttered. “What am I—your agent in Malibu, for God’s sake—supposed to do about the illegal python you tried to sneak into the country in your amplifier?”
    “Are you talking to yourself again?” a woman’s voice asked.
    Morgan had dropped by after her run. She and Mac were renting Cooper’s neighbor’s house for a couple of months.
    “Yes. I’ve told you before, my clients are going to be the death of me—one brain cell at a time.”
    She took a sip from the water bottle he’d given her earlier. She wanted something from him, too, but she had too much class to come right out and demand it. “Poor William. An agent’s work is never done.”
    “Truest statement I’ve heard today. And the reason for that is most clients consider an agent their surrogate parent. But even JoE’s mum, who happens to be a very nice lady, would tell him what I’ve told him ten times so far—‘You can’t bring a snake into the country without going through the proper channels.’”
    She tossed her ponytail from side to side. “Could be worse. Don’t most rappers try to smuggle drugs into the country?”
    William scrolled down until he found the number he wanted, then hit send. “John? William Hughes here. How would you like a new slant on an old story?” He quickly rattled off the details—to Morgan’s obvious amusement—then hit end.
    He held up one finger to indicate he wasn’t done. With thumbs flying, he quickly texted.

    L.A. Times on their way w/camera guy. Headline tomorrow: JoE’s Snake on a Plane.

    “Clever agent saves day,” Morgan said, offering a headline of her own.
    William sighed. “A really clever agent never would have gotten sucked into signing a rapper in the first place. What do I know about the music industry?”
    She shrugged. “You know words. Your literary background has served you well, I think. And JoE’s lyrics are some of the best poetry of our day. It’s your nature to try to protect him.”
    “Only a fool would try to protect a man bent on self-destruction. Mostly, I despair about the loss of his natural talent if he fails to get his act together. As we both know, you can’t force someone to get help.”
    She jumped slightly. “Help. That’s why I stopped. I almost forgot. Mac talked to Calvin this morning. His granddaughter is supposed to be calling you today. Her little girl had a bad asthma attack right after the holidays so Daria had to postpone their trip. She wasn’t sure you were still available to help, what with your dad’s situation and all.”
    A slightly metallic taste developed in his mouth. He was tired of people fretting about his father’s health. “Does the whole world know about my father’s condition?” he grumbled. He was sick of dealing with e-mails, calls—even tweets. “What has happened to the right to privacy?”
    He stood, intending to get a bit of vodka to go with his sparkling water. He’d only made it two steps when his phone rang. He picked it up without looking at the display, certain it was JoE.
    “Snake or no snake, you need to clear customs so you can get your butt in the country. Are we clear on that?”
    “I beg your pardon? I’m trying to reach William Hughes. This is Daria