Nina began the meeting by telling Bradley and Renee a bit about what she was looking for. Since she took over as vice-president of prime-time programming, she had been trying to position her network as the place for strong narrative, interesting characters, and moral complexity. She confessed to being a big fan of the Spanish language telenovelas--she loved the long narrative arcs, stories that go somewhere and eventually come to a resolution—to an end. And as a business person she particularly liked the ability of some telenovelas to draw a substantial male audience.

"Absolutely" said Bradley. "On Spanish TV, the men have cojones!"

Nina paused for a moment and looked at Bradley and Renee.

"So," said Nina. "You two work together... in real estate?"

"Well," said Bradley, "my business started as a production company. In the mid-90s we made a couple of, uh, genre pictures. But yes, our main focus now is commercial real estate."

"And I do some freelance sales, commercial leases..." said Renee, "when I'm not acting."

"Renee Alcala," said Nina, ruminating on the name and face. "You were very good in that series--the one set in New Orleans..."

"True Bayou," said Renee, beaming.

"Too bad it didn't last," said Nina. "Well, you both must be fascinated by the eleventh century. It's an unusual era."

"Definitely," said Bradley. "We really love the eleven-hundreds. Of course Renee did all the research. I just did the wordsmithing."

"Right," said Nina. She went on to tell them how some people at the network just wanted to translate and repackage a Spanish-language telenovela, but Nina had told them, C'mon, this is America, this is Hollywood, can't we generate something original?

"And then this treatment appeared." Nina picked up the copy her assistant had placed on her desk before the meeting.

Ever so slightly off-axis, it has been the only object on the gleaming surface for the entire time Renee and Bradley have been waiting. For more than twenty minutes it has been exerting a strange power over Bradley's attention, like a forbidden sexual urge or a beckoning animal in a dream, tempting him to pick it up and just hold it in his hands, or peak inside and learn its secrets, or better yet take out a spy camera and photograph every page, which Bradley knows would be completely absurd--he retyped it all himself, every word, because he didn't trust the security on Renee's laptop--but still, he's had to force himself to resist its pull; at one point, Renee actually had to slap his hand.

Nina paged thoughtfully through the document.

"What amazes me about this story," she said, "is your choice of the central character. Completely unexpected, and yet--it works! How did you settle on Bertha--Bertha of Savoy, of all people, as your heroine?"

"Oh, we just had a feeling... " said Renee.

"Well, it's brilliant," said Nina. "The obvious thing, of course would have been to make Matilda the lead--but I love how this story uses Bertha, I really do. The mousy wife, the child bride, who discovers her warrior princess within--that will have much broader appeal, I think, over the run of the show, than Matilda would have. And Matilda has such baggage--sleeping with the Pope, murdering her husband. Definitely better to make her the female antagonist."

"Absolutely," said Bradley. "Matilda--what a bitch! I mean, that was my reaction."

Nina seemed not to hear him. She continued to flip through the pages, apparently with pleasure, even admiration. Renee and Bradley looked at each other--were they about to get the green light?

"On the downside," said Nina, "there are the challenges of producing a costume drama on a basic cable budget. But the eleventh century, it's not like Louis Quatorze at Versailles, now is it?"

Bradley realized that Nina was looking at him. Had she just made a joke?

"I mean the quality and detail of the costumes," explained Nina.

Bradley chuckled and shook his head. "No, no, not at all."

"And the setting," Nina continue, "Southern Germany, Northern Italy, the Alps--well, we could probably get away with locations in British Columbia. Keep the costs under control."

She turned a page, and frowned a little."Oh there are still a few--what should I call them?--undigested nuggets of scholarship in here, Renee. The word 'allodial,' for example. We need to find ways to make feudal concepts like that clear to our viewers--we want our viewers to feel smart, not dumb."

"Yes, yes, certainly..." said Renee.

"Just cut that line," said Bradley. "It's gone!"

Nina smiled at Bradley. Then she closed the treatment and put it down upon her gleaming desk.

"Renee, Bradley," she said. "Let me be honest. I love this project, and I'm so grateful that you brought it to our attention. If you don't mind me saying so, you two are representative of our target audience--upwardly mobile Americans--and the fact that you relate to the struggles of these people in the eleventh century, that you perceived value in this"--she picks up the manuscript again--"well it excites me. It intrigues me.

"But the thing is--I don't believe for a moment that you two wrote this story."

Nina studied her guests, who suddenly were very busy avoiding each other's eyes.

"So here's the deal," said Nina. "Renee, I can guarantee you an audition for the part of Bertha--and Bradley, I won't press charges--if you tell me who really wrote this treatment."