Nights 'Round the Table (2/14)
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen
Whoever invented 8 a.m. meetings, Arthur thought, ought to be shot. He smiled weakly at his father over the rim of his coffee mug and willed his head to stop aching. Or, at least, to stop aching quite so much.
“Good morning!” Morgana said as she breezed into the conference room.
Forget whoever invented early morning meetings, Arthur decided. Morgana ought to be shot for being that perky and being able to look that put together at this ungodly hour. Especially when he knew damned well she’d been out every bit as late as he had the night before. Especially when it was her fault he’d been out in the first place.
As she slid into her seat, Morgana grabbed Arthur’s hand beneath the table and pressed two tablets into it. Arthur glanced down. Advil. Okay, maybe she only deserved to be kicked in the shins a couple of times.
“Now that you’re both here,” Uther said, “we can begin. I’ve asked you here today because I am entrusting you with a very important project. Very important.”
Arthur exchanged a quick glance with Morgana. It was never a good sign when Uther started repeating himself.
“You know you can count on us, Father,” Arthur said, and Morgana nodded her agreement.
“I truly hope so,” Uther said. “Because what I’m asking isn’t just for me, or even for the future of Pendragon Broadcasting.” A disturbing, almost beatific smile came over Uther’s face, and Arthur thought with a horrible, sinking feeling in his stomach, that he knew what was coming.
“It’s for Catrina.”
Arthur took small comfort in the fact that Morgana’s cheerful grin suddenly looked much more like a grimace. It wasn’t that they disliked Uther’s new wife, exactly... Well, no. Arthur thought maybe Morgana genuinely did dislike her, but Arthur liked her just fine as long as he never had to spend any time with her or ever talk to her at all.
“As you know,” Uther continued, “she has quite a following among QVC viewers, who loved her series on kitchen appliances. The two of us discussed it, and we decided it’s time for her to take her career to the next level.”
“What does that have to do with us, Father?” Morgana asked, having regained her composure.
“I’m glad you asked. As of yesterday morning, Pendragon Broadcasting has acquired a local television station known as Let’s Eat! Obviously the name will have to go, but the station has a very strong following among local food connoisseurs, and I believe there is enough talent there to help make it a success as the latest addition to Pendragon Broadcasting’s cable lineup.”
“And you want Catrina to have a show selling kitchen appliances?” Arthur asked. It didn’t really seem like much of a step up from QVC to him, but it was hardly the utter disaster he’d been imagining when his father first mentioned Catrina’s name.
“No, of course not,” Uther said, waving a dismissive hand. “She’s going to be the host of the station’s flagship culinary show. It’s been in the works for months. We’ve already begun filming.”
Morgana looked like her coffee had gone suddenly sour. “You’ve got Catrina hosting a culinary show?”
“Of course,” Uther said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “You know how much she loves to cook. It’s a natural choice.”
“But--” Morgana protested.
“I won’t hear any arguments,” Uther said. “It’s a done deal. And Arthur, I’m putting you in charge of the project.”
“What, me? In charge of a cooking show?”
“Not the show,” Uther said, obviously starting to lose patience. “The station. Despite its current popularity and the extra viewership that Catrina will undoubtedly bring with her, it’s going to need some work before it’s cable-ready, and this is the perfect opportunity for you to start taking on a more active role in the company. You’ll want to add at least one other new show to the station’s lineup to start, and another three or four at least over the course of the first year.
“Morgana,” he continued, “given your experience with some of the more... unique aspects of culinary culture, I expect you to act as an advisor to Arthur for this project.”
“Given my knowledge and experience in both culinary culture and managing a television station,” Morgana said, “wouldn’t it make more sense to put me in charge of the project? To be blunt, Father, I don’t think overseeing your pet baseball team for the past three years really gives Arthur the skills he needs to make this venture successful.
“No offense meant, of course,” she added as an aside to Arthur.
“None taken,” Arthur answered. He would never admit it aloud, but Morgana did have experience better suited to this project. Arthur’s idea of fine dining was eating pizza off a real plate instead of straight out of the box, and he really didn’t see any problem with that, as much as it seemed to pain Morgana.
Besides, any project revolving around Catrina was likely to have Uther hovering like a particularly neurotic mother hen. No, Arthur was more than happy to let Morgana try to talk Uther into letting her take the lead on this one.
“Your experience is precisely why you won’t be heading this project,” Uther said. “We need a solid station here. Nothing flashy, and, quite frankly, Morgana, your culinary preferences are not something that will appeal to the heart of the American viewing public.”
Morgana’s lips compressed to a tight line. “You really believe I’d let my personal agenda get in the way of running a successful station?”
“Not intentionally,” Uther conceded, “but you can’t deny that you’re very passionate about your views, and Pendragon Broadcasting can’t afford to take the risk of you losing your objectivity when it comes to this station. Besides, Arthur needs to get more involved in running and maintaining our networks if he’s going to take over my position when I retire.”
“I see,” Morgana said. “So, this is all about making sure Arthur is the perfect heir to your empire. I should have guessed.”
“Father,” Arthur broke in, having no interest at all at getting in the middle of that discussion again, “I appreciate your confidence in me and your desire to help me improve my skills and knowledge, but I agree with Morgana. She’s clearly the better candidate for leading this project.”
“Arthur, I have tried to give you as much freedom as I could,” Uther said. “I let you go to school on the other side of the country. I let you oversee the Giants after I bought the team. And I did all of these things because I know how hard it is to be a leader, to have to step up to the plate and take charge of things, and I wanted you to have some freedom before you had to take up such a heavy burden of responsibility.
“But it’s time, son. It’s time for you to start becoming the great leader I know you will someday be. And it starts here, with this television station.”
Arthur felt his determination to dodge the project slipping away as Uther spoke. There was nothing quite like a little parental guilt trip for motivation.
“I understand, Father. I’ll take the project.”
“Of course you will,” Uther said, smiling. “And if you fail, Morgana can take over.”
“Take over the project?” Arthur asked.
“Oh, certainly the project. At the very least.”
Arthur could feel another headache coming on, and it was not at all helped by Morgana’s suddenly speculative look. By the time Uther had finished outlining the details of the project, Arthur was fantasizing about more painkillers and a cool glass of water.
“You know,” Morgana said in a low murmur as she gathered up her notes with unnecessary slowness, “if you’re going to prevent this from being a complete train wreck, you’ll need to come up with at least one good show to balance out Catrina.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Arthur told her when he was sure that the elevator down the hall had closed completely behind his father’s back. “She can’t be as bad as all that. You’re just a food snob.”
“You weren’t there for Fourth of July,” Morgana said, and it was almost an accusation. “She used cooking spray on the barbecue, Arthur.”
Arthur didn’t really see what was wrong with that. Cooking spray was just oil, wasn’t it? Was it bad to put oil on a barbecue? “Ah, well...”
“Butter-flavor,” she continued, eyes narrowing. “Artificial butter flavor.”
Okay, that... was maybe a little bit on the strange side.
“But don’t worry,” Morgana said with a sudden, determined smile. “I’m sure you’ll be able to develop a fantastic new show. After all, I’ve got your back.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Arthur muttered.
Arthur had managed to find himself a dark corner in the studio that allowed him to both see the filming of Home-Like: With Catrina Tregor and hide from his father. He had known Uther would hover, since he doted on Catrina to an excessive degree, but it was still surprising behavior from a man who made detachment into an art form. It wasn’t that Uther was inattentive to his properties or uninvolved in his investments, just that the man preferred to hire the perfect people for their positions and if they turned out to be less than perfect, he quickly and effectively ruined their careers. To witness Uther second guessing everyone from the director to the rather timid looking intern holding cue cards had to have everyone convinced they were all seconds away from being fired and they would all be reduced to working at gas stations in the Central Valley. Arthur shuddered, wondering if that’s where he was headed as well if he failed in this project. He was pretty sure he had enough of his own money saved and invested, and he owned his condo, so worst case scenario he’d end up at Footlocker or 24 Hour Fitness.
Of course it was while absorbed in his internal monologue on the disastrous route his life was about to take, given how little he knew about food, and absorbed in thoughts of whether he would be able to earn commissions from his inevitable retail career, that Morgana found him.
“Why, dear Arthur, you look positively stricken. I would have thought Catrina’s cooking to be right up your alley,” she said, leaning in close to his ear.
In truth, he hadn’t noticed Catrina’s cooking. He looked, since he knew it was likely that Uther would interrogate him over the details soon, but he honestly didn’t see any difference between this and the few other instructional cooking shows he had seen over the years. His confusion must have shown on his face. Morgana’s expression had traveled from smug to appalled.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“Morgana, it can’t possibly be that bad. Father knows a good investment when he sees one.”
“Arthur, Uther has made his fortune by never underestimating the lowest common denominator of the American public.”
“Are you suggesting that our father has married the lowest common denominator? Because that’s probably not a good opinion to have of our step-mother.”
She glared at him. “Her sets match her clothes and the predominant color scheme of the dish. She doesn’t even match for taste, she goes by theme! And I think she’s drunk...” Morgana’s words tapered off as she stared at the set.
Catrina was clutching what looked to be a bottle of vodka and there were six other bottles of alcohol on the counter near a bowl that seemed to be holding their former contents. As Arthur watched, she put the bottle down, picked up a cup and dipped it straight into the bowl. He could just make out the phrase “Time for party punch!” before she downed the cup in one go. Unfortunately, Arthur knew Morgana’s speechlessness wouldn’t last, so he attempted to change the subject.
“About the band we saw... the one with the pretty girl in pink.”
“Oh yes, I remember her. Don’t tell me you fancied her?” There was something vaguely threatening in her voice, Arthur was sure of it.
“What? No, of course not.”
“Good.” The genuine relief on Morgana’s face set Arthur’s teeth on edge. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what happened last time you tried dating a woman.”
“I just figured you would remember her before you’d remember anyone else in the band.” He was never sure if Morgana’s claims of bisexuality were an attempt at trendiness, or as a cover for her lesbianism.
“Did you,” Morgana replied. Sometimes he was certain she could hear his thoughts. “I’m honestly surprised you remember anyone that was there that night. That was quite a performance you gave, Arthur.”
“Hey! I remember. I just wanted to know if you had... if they had any albums. I’d like to buy one of their albums. “
“Have you given any thought to the show you’re going to develop?”
“Why are you changing the subject?”
“Guinevere works in a restaurant in Oakland that is very likely to be the next big thing.”
“Who on earth is Guinevere?”
“The lead singer for Lapin Tueur; you met her. You just said she was lovely. You ruined her shoes. I knew you didn’t remember.”
“No, I... just...” He demurred as he felt a weight settle on his shoulder.
“Arthur.” Uther had snuck up on them. The man could be silent as a cat when he wanted to. “Morgana.”
“Father,” they replied in unison.
“I saw that pitcher of yours on The Loco Show. Have you begun preparations for his inevitable stint in rehab?”
“No, Father, I don’t need to. Valiant just likes the publicity, he’s not actually on drugs.” And it put bodies in seats. Attendance was up 20% because of “The Snake.” Arthur would have to put together a report to send to his father charting ticket sales, before Valiant came up from the minors and after the Pennant win, since judging from Uther’s expression, he was not convinced.
“Arthur, Albert Godwin’s daughter Elena is in town overseeing her father’s new venture in Napa, I have informed Godwin that you would be delighted to entertain her. I spoke to Leon about your schedule and he has written her in for 8pm on September 13th. Reservations have been made for you at Gary Danko.”
Arthur tried not to react. “Of course, Father.”
“Glad that’s settled. I must get back to work. I want everything perfect for Catrina. Isn’t she wonderful?” Uther didn’t wait for a reply, just returned to terrorizing the lighting assistant.
While Arthur was used to Uther’s demands, Morgana apparently felt the need to pick which battles Arthur fought. “Why would you let him do that? Don’t you see what he’s trying to do? He wants you to breed with that woman.”
“Morgana, it’s one dinner for networking. That hardly counts as expecting us to breed. Besides, is it so wrong that he might expect grandchildren someday? “
“Well, Arthur, I suppose it depends on whether you intend to marry a young lady of his choosing, or if you’d rather find someone who gets your rocks off. “
“What... I... how, what is that supposed to mean?” He thought he was quite successful keeping anything like panic out of his voice.
“You do know I love you, right? That I’m here for you and I’ll never judge you, but if you don’t grow a fucking pair when it comes to your love life, I’m going to have to shiv you for my sanity.”
Morgana waved him off before he could respond. “As I was saying before Uther demonstrated that we may need to have a lawyer declare him incompetent in the coming months, if you want to save this network, you’ll need to produce shows that have not been hand picked by Uther. I happen to have a couple of restaurants for you to visit that are both phenomenally camera-ready, and willing to do nearly anything for publicity. Both Ambrosia and The Blessed Cafe are in the East Bay. I’ll have Aglain coordinate our schedules with Leon; they can make the necessary reservations.”
“The East Bay again, Morgana? Why on earth do you go there voluntarily.”
“I know you live in mortal fear of hippies, but you’re on a deadline, and I don’t actually want to be put in charge of this fiasco if I can’t fire her,” she said, glaring at Catrina. The woman seemed to be mixing Cool-whip and butterscotch pudding mix together and pouring it into the hole in the center of a store-bought angel’s food cake. She watched in horror for another minute as Catrina opened a can of cherries, before pulling Arthur into a hug.
“Some of us don’t have an off-season, and have to get back to work. Don’t forget what I said about shivving you,” she said as she walked off.
“I work in the off-season,” he shouted after her, only to be run out of the studio himself for ruining the take.
Next
Whoever invented 8 a.m. meetings, Arthur thought, ought to be shot. He smiled weakly at his father over the rim of his coffee mug and willed his head to stop aching. Or, at least, to stop aching quite so much.
“Good morning!” Morgana said as she breezed into the conference room.
Forget whoever invented early morning meetings, Arthur decided. Morgana ought to be shot for being that perky and being able to look that put together at this ungodly hour. Especially when he knew damned well she’d been out every bit as late as he had the night before. Especially when it was her fault he’d been out in the first place.
As she slid into her seat, Morgana grabbed Arthur’s hand beneath the table and pressed two tablets into it. Arthur glanced down. Advil. Okay, maybe she only deserved to be kicked in the shins a couple of times.
“Now that you’re both here,” Uther said, “we can begin. I’ve asked you here today because I am entrusting you with a very important project. Very important.”
Arthur exchanged a quick glance with Morgana. It was never a good sign when Uther started repeating himself.
“You know you can count on us, Father,” Arthur said, and Morgana nodded her agreement.
“I truly hope so,” Uther said. “Because what I’m asking isn’t just for me, or even for the future of Pendragon Broadcasting.” A disturbing, almost beatific smile came over Uther’s face, and Arthur thought with a horrible, sinking feeling in his stomach, that he knew what was coming.
“It’s for Catrina.”
Arthur took small comfort in the fact that Morgana’s cheerful grin suddenly looked much more like a grimace. It wasn’t that they disliked Uther’s new wife, exactly... Well, no. Arthur thought maybe Morgana genuinely did dislike her, but Arthur liked her just fine as long as he never had to spend any time with her or ever talk to her at all.
“As you know,” Uther continued, “she has quite a following among QVC viewers, who loved her series on kitchen appliances. The two of us discussed it, and we decided it’s time for her to take her career to the next level.”
“What does that have to do with us, Father?” Morgana asked, having regained her composure.
“I’m glad you asked. As of yesterday morning, Pendragon Broadcasting has acquired a local television station known as Let’s Eat! Obviously the name will have to go, but the station has a very strong following among local food connoisseurs, and I believe there is enough talent there to help make it a success as the latest addition to Pendragon Broadcasting’s cable lineup.”
“And you want Catrina to have a show selling kitchen appliances?” Arthur asked. It didn’t really seem like much of a step up from QVC to him, but it was hardly the utter disaster he’d been imagining when his father first mentioned Catrina’s name.
“No, of course not,” Uther said, waving a dismissive hand. “She’s going to be the host of the station’s flagship culinary show. It’s been in the works for months. We’ve already begun filming.”
Morgana looked like her coffee had gone suddenly sour. “You’ve got Catrina hosting a culinary show?”
“Of course,” Uther said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “You know how much she loves to cook. It’s a natural choice.”
“But--” Morgana protested.
“I won’t hear any arguments,” Uther said. “It’s a done deal. And Arthur, I’m putting you in charge of the project.”
“What, me? In charge of a cooking show?”
“Not the show,” Uther said, obviously starting to lose patience. “The station. Despite its current popularity and the extra viewership that Catrina will undoubtedly bring with her, it’s going to need some work before it’s cable-ready, and this is the perfect opportunity for you to start taking on a more active role in the company. You’ll want to add at least one other new show to the station’s lineup to start, and another three or four at least over the course of the first year.
“Morgana,” he continued, “given your experience with some of the more... unique aspects of culinary culture, I expect you to act as an advisor to Arthur for this project.”
“Given my knowledge and experience in both culinary culture and managing a television station,” Morgana said, “wouldn’t it make more sense to put me in charge of the project? To be blunt, Father, I don’t think overseeing your pet baseball team for the past three years really gives Arthur the skills he needs to make this venture successful.
“No offense meant, of course,” she added as an aside to Arthur.
“None taken,” Arthur answered. He would never admit it aloud, but Morgana did have experience better suited to this project. Arthur’s idea of fine dining was eating pizza off a real plate instead of straight out of the box, and he really didn’t see any problem with that, as much as it seemed to pain Morgana.
Besides, any project revolving around Catrina was likely to have Uther hovering like a particularly neurotic mother hen. No, Arthur was more than happy to let Morgana try to talk Uther into letting her take the lead on this one.
“Your experience is precisely why you won’t be heading this project,” Uther said. “We need a solid station here. Nothing flashy, and, quite frankly, Morgana, your culinary preferences are not something that will appeal to the heart of the American viewing public.”
Morgana’s lips compressed to a tight line. “You really believe I’d let my personal agenda get in the way of running a successful station?”
“Not intentionally,” Uther conceded, “but you can’t deny that you’re very passionate about your views, and Pendragon Broadcasting can’t afford to take the risk of you losing your objectivity when it comes to this station. Besides, Arthur needs to get more involved in running and maintaining our networks if he’s going to take over my position when I retire.”
“I see,” Morgana said. “So, this is all about making sure Arthur is the perfect heir to your empire. I should have guessed.”
“Father,” Arthur broke in, having no interest at all at getting in the middle of that discussion again, “I appreciate your confidence in me and your desire to help me improve my skills and knowledge, but I agree with Morgana. She’s clearly the better candidate for leading this project.”
“Arthur, I have tried to give you as much freedom as I could,” Uther said. “I let you go to school on the other side of the country. I let you oversee the Giants after I bought the team. And I did all of these things because I know how hard it is to be a leader, to have to step up to the plate and take charge of things, and I wanted you to have some freedom before you had to take up such a heavy burden of responsibility.
“But it’s time, son. It’s time for you to start becoming the great leader I know you will someday be. And it starts here, with this television station.”
Arthur felt his determination to dodge the project slipping away as Uther spoke. There was nothing quite like a little parental guilt trip for motivation.
“I understand, Father. I’ll take the project.”
“Of course you will,” Uther said, smiling. “And if you fail, Morgana can take over.”
“Take over the project?” Arthur asked.
“Oh, certainly the project. At the very least.”
Arthur could feel another headache coming on, and it was not at all helped by Morgana’s suddenly speculative look. By the time Uther had finished outlining the details of the project, Arthur was fantasizing about more painkillers and a cool glass of water.
“You know,” Morgana said in a low murmur as she gathered up her notes with unnecessary slowness, “if you’re going to prevent this from being a complete train wreck, you’ll need to come up with at least one good show to balance out Catrina.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Arthur told her when he was sure that the elevator down the hall had closed completely behind his father’s back. “She can’t be as bad as all that. You’re just a food snob.”
“You weren’t there for Fourth of July,” Morgana said, and it was almost an accusation. “She used cooking spray on the barbecue, Arthur.”
Arthur didn’t really see what was wrong with that. Cooking spray was just oil, wasn’t it? Was it bad to put oil on a barbecue? “Ah, well...”
“Butter-flavor,” she continued, eyes narrowing. “Artificial butter flavor.”
Okay, that... was maybe a little bit on the strange side.
“But don’t worry,” Morgana said with a sudden, determined smile. “I’m sure you’ll be able to develop a fantastic new show. After all, I’ve got your back.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Arthur muttered.
Arthur had managed to find himself a dark corner in the studio that allowed him to both see the filming of Home-Like: With Catrina Tregor and hide from his father. He had known Uther would hover, since he doted on Catrina to an excessive degree, but it was still surprising behavior from a man who made detachment into an art form. It wasn’t that Uther was inattentive to his properties or uninvolved in his investments, just that the man preferred to hire the perfect people for their positions and if they turned out to be less than perfect, he quickly and effectively ruined their careers. To witness Uther second guessing everyone from the director to the rather timid looking intern holding cue cards had to have everyone convinced they were all seconds away from being fired and they would all be reduced to working at gas stations in the Central Valley. Arthur shuddered, wondering if that’s where he was headed as well if he failed in this project. He was pretty sure he had enough of his own money saved and invested, and he owned his condo, so worst case scenario he’d end up at Footlocker or 24 Hour Fitness.
Of course it was while absorbed in his internal monologue on the disastrous route his life was about to take, given how little he knew about food, and absorbed in thoughts of whether he would be able to earn commissions from his inevitable retail career, that Morgana found him.
“Why, dear Arthur, you look positively stricken. I would have thought Catrina’s cooking to be right up your alley,” she said, leaning in close to his ear.
In truth, he hadn’t noticed Catrina’s cooking. He looked, since he knew it was likely that Uther would interrogate him over the details soon, but he honestly didn’t see any difference between this and the few other instructional cooking shows he had seen over the years. His confusion must have shown on his face. Morgana’s expression had traveled from smug to appalled.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“Morgana, it can’t possibly be that bad. Father knows a good investment when he sees one.”
“Arthur, Uther has made his fortune by never underestimating the lowest common denominator of the American public.”
“Are you suggesting that our father has married the lowest common denominator? Because that’s probably not a good opinion to have of our step-mother.”
She glared at him. “Her sets match her clothes and the predominant color scheme of the dish. She doesn’t even match for taste, she goes by theme! And I think she’s drunk...” Morgana’s words tapered off as she stared at the set.
Catrina was clutching what looked to be a bottle of vodka and there were six other bottles of alcohol on the counter near a bowl that seemed to be holding their former contents. As Arthur watched, she put the bottle down, picked up a cup and dipped it straight into the bowl. He could just make out the phrase “Time for party punch!” before she downed the cup in one go. Unfortunately, Arthur knew Morgana’s speechlessness wouldn’t last, so he attempted to change the subject.
“About the band we saw... the one with the pretty girl in pink.”
“Oh yes, I remember her. Don’t tell me you fancied her?” There was something vaguely threatening in her voice, Arthur was sure of it.
“What? No, of course not.”
“Good.” The genuine relief on Morgana’s face set Arthur’s teeth on edge. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what happened last time you tried dating a woman.”
“I just figured you would remember her before you’d remember anyone else in the band.” He was never sure if Morgana’s claims of bisexuality were an attempt at trendiness, or as a cover for her lesbianism.
“Did you,” Morgana replied. Sometimes he was certain she could hear his thoughts. “I’m honestly surprised you remember anyone that was there that night. That was quite a performance you gave, Arthur.”
“Hey! I remember. I just wanted to know if you had... if they had any albums. I’d like to buy one of their albums. “
“Have you given any thought to the show you’re going to develop?”
“Why are you changing the subject?”
“Guinevere works in a restaurant in Oakland that is very likely to be the next big thing.”
“Who on earth is Guinevere?”
“The lead singer for Lapin Tueur; you met her. You just said she was lovely. You ruined her shoes. I knew you didn’t remember.”
“No, I... just...” He demurred as he felt a weight settle on his shoulder.
“Arthur.” Uther had snuck up on them. The man could be silent as a cat when he wanted to. “Morgana.”
“Father,” they replied in unison.
“I saw that pitcher of yours on The Loco Show. Have you begun preparations for his inevitable stint in rehab?”
“No, Father, I don’t need to. Valiant just likes the publicity, he’s not actually on drugs.” And it put bodies in seats. Attendance was up 20% because of “The Snake.” Arthur would have to put together a report to send to his father charting ticket sales, before Valiant came up from the minors and after the Pennant win, since judging from Uther’s expression, he was not convinced.
“Arthur, Albert Godwin’s daughter Elena is in town overseeing her father’s new venture in Napa, I have informed Godwin that you would be delighted to entertain her. I spoke to Leon about your schedule and he has written her in for 8pm on September 13th. Reservations have been made for you at Gary Danko.”
Arthur tried not to react. “Of course, Father.”
“Glad that’s settled. I must get back to work. I want everything perfect for Catrina. Isn’t she wonderful?” Uther didn’t wait for a reply, just returned to terrorizing the lighting assistant.
While Arthur was used to Uther’s demands, Morgana apparently felt the need to pick which battles Arthur fought. “Why would you let him do that? Don’t you see what he’s trying to do? He wants you to breed with that woman.”
“Morgana, it’s one dinner for networking. That hardly counts as expecting us to breed. Besides, is it so wrong that he might expect grandchildren someday? “
“Well, Arthur, I suppose it depends on whether you intend to marry a young lady of his choosing, or if you’d rather find someone who gets your rocks off. “
“What... I... how, what is that supposed to mean?” He thought he was quite successful keeping anything like panic out of his voice.
“You do know I love you, right? That I’m here for you and I’ll never judge you, but if you don’t grow a fucking pair when it comes to your love life, I’m going to have to shiv you for my sanity.”
Morgana waved him off before he could respond. “As I was saying before Uther demonstrated that we may need to have a lawyer declare him incompetent in the coming months, if you want to save this network, you’ll need to produce shows that have not been hand picked by Uther. I happen to have a couple of restaurants for you to visit that are both phenomenally camera-ready, and willing to do nearly anything for publicity. Both Ambrosia and The Blessed Cafe are in the East Bay. I’ll have Aglain coordinate our schedules with Leon; they can make the necessary reservations.”
“The East Bay again, Morgana? Why on earth do you go there voluntarily.”
“I know you live in mortal fear of hippies, but you’re on a deadline, and I don’t actually want to be put in charge of this fiasco if I can’t fire her,” she said, glaring at Catrina. The woman seemed to be mixing Cool-whip and butterscotch pudding mix together and pouring it into the hole in the center of a store-bought angel’s food cake. She watched in horror for another minute as Catrina opened a can of cherries, before pulling Arthur into a hug.
“Some of us don’t have an off-season, and have to get back to work. Don’t forget what I said about shivving you,” she said as she walked off.
“I work in the off-season,” he shouted after her, only to be run out of the studio himself for ruining the take.
Next