“Fine,” I said. “Any studio in town would snatch it up.”
“I think they’d tie it up for years,” Sally said, “until it was dead, dead, dead. Just for spite.”
I shrugged. “So what? I’d be okay. Hayword would be okay. You’d be okay.” But I did feel butterflies in my stomach. Did this physical response mean I actually wanted to write the script? I had fun with the last one. I wanted to have fun with this one. In fact, Beauty and the Zombie had been the best work experience of my life, from beginning to end.
“Damn it,” I said. “What can I do?”
“Turn this around,” she said. “Get it out of the news or change the story so you’re the good guy again.”
“You always said all publicity was good publicity,” I said. “I don’t understand.”
“The entertainment media is so different now,” Sally said. “I d
