Chapter 4: I Loved That Glass

Chapter 4: I Loved That Glass

"Good to know you still have a way with the ladies," Charlie quipped.

"Yeah, fuck you!" Luke laughed. "Why are you calling?"

"I'm executive producing a new show," said Charlie. "I need a first-rate photog."

"If I come across one, I'll let you know."

"I'm talking to one right now."

"No, no, no," Luke replied. "I am loving life right now. No responsibilities. No commitments. I'm living on a rented boat. Fish all day, drink all night, plenty of beautiful women. I'm quite ok, thanks."

"You sound bored, you ask me."

"Notice I didn't ask you."

"You don't even know the concept. It's not news, no blood and guts and shit. I'm working for TLC—the This is Living Channel. It's a travel show…"

"Ooohhh, not no, then. It's oh, HELL NO!"

"Just wait. I want this to be different from anything else out there. You'd co-produce. I'm going to tell you where to go, my office will make the travel arrangements, then you find the stories, make it what you think people want to see, what they want to know about. The budget is virtually unlimited," Charlie waited for a response.

"So, theoretically, IF I said yes, you'd tell me where to go, and then it's completely up to me to ferret out interesting stories to tell about the location."

"Well, not completely up to you. Like I said, you'd co-produce. You and your partner would need to agree on a concept," Charlie hedged.

"Partner?" Luke chuckled humorlessly. "Have we met? I don't tend to work well with others."

"Well, that's a shame. I hired this cute dame to be the host of the show. A redhead. She's smart and spunky, with a lot of great ideas. Nice gams, too, if you know what I mean."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Nobody under the age of 90 knows what you mean." Charlie was all of 67 years old, but he talked like he was in a Bogart movie.

"I have a shitload of resume tapes from a bunch of young-buck photogs, but I've always thought you had a great eye. Well…sorry I bothered you and your lady friend," Charlie apologized. "So long, sport."

"Wait, wait, wait," Luke said. "Give me a little time to think it over. When does the job start?"

Charlie laughed. "In a month. Tell me you're in."

Luke sighed. "I'll let you know."

After they disconnected, Luke sat thinking for a moment. A new job. He didn't need the money, he lived simply enough and could afford to be retired. Truth was, he was bored, but he'd never tell Charlie that. Routine was never something he subscribed to, but his life had settled into one over the last few months in spite of his disapproval. Days melted together, puttering around on the boat, fishing on his own or occasionally taking out fishing or shelling charters for his buddy and splitting the profits. Happy hour found him hanging out in the local bars, drinking and swapping stories with others as aimless as himself, flirting with pretty bubble-heads. Nights could be bad, though, nightmares of the devastation and destruction he'd documented over the years tormenting him in his sleep. Which was why he drank too much, why he brought home strange women too often…

He sighed again. Charlie's offer. Traveling on someone else's dime. This time not covering catastrophe or the depravity of man, but seeing the world with the eyes of a tourist. It might be a good opportunity to replace the nightmares with better memories. A dame with red hair and nice gams. Luke snorted. Charlie was a piece of work.