A TV School (Blazing X's; Just Sign Here)

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Daniella Blair gripped Phil's hand firmly. "I'm sorry to burden you Ms. West with these contracts and details, but if we're going to start filming in September then we are going to need every moment we can get between now and then. Take it all home and think it over. We'll have our messenger service pick up the paperwork whenever you're ready. I think this is a very exciting opportunity for both of us."
Phil returned the handshake and sank into the cab under a mountain of papers, videos and presentation boards. They'd sent her home with everything and it was just too much.
Yeats greeted her at the curb and relieved her of all her bundles. "Shall I take these to the study, miss?" he inquired.
"Yes, please, William, it's been a very long morning.
"Certainly, miss." Phil had tried for years to get Yeats to call her by her first name, but he was always rather formal.
She went upstairs and began changing, when she decided a shower was in order. It was refreshing, so her heart was a little lighter as she headed toward her study.
Yeats had neatly arranged all the materials on her desk and a work table she kept for overflow. For several hours she worked on deciphering the details of Blair's proposals, but by dinner she knew she was overmatched. She'd have to ask Gerald to look over the paperwork.
She waited until after dinner to ring him up at home. She was a little uncertain how Gerald would feel since she had proceeded this far without him. In her defense, she'd never thought there'd be contracts to sign at the second meeting.
"Hello, Gerald? This is Aunt Phil."
"Hello, Aunt Phil, is it business or pleasure?"
"Well, it's always a pleasure talking to you, Gerald, but I'm afraid it is school business."
"Aunt Phil, may I remind you that it's past business hours and that we've spoken about this before?"
"I know, Gerald, I'm very sorry, but I've gotten in over my head."
"Is this about the janitorial contracts? Phil, they've gotten a great deal. I checked with the union. Everybody's happy. Now I know you went to that contracts seminar I recommended and you should feel fully empowered to handle these little routine matters for the school. You're a very intelligent woman, Aunt Phil. I have complete faith in your decision making on this matter."
The following silence was a bit frosty on Phil's side.
"I most certainly did attend the contracts seminar and I do feel 'fully empowered' to handle school business especially since there is so little of it these days. If my phone records are accurate it has been two years since I requested your assistance and those janitors still don't clean the third floor on a bi-annual basis. The matter before me is a rather complex effort to rebuild school enrollment and raise the school's profile. This is a very necessary effort that no one else seems interested in undertaking!"
"Now, Aunt Phil, you know I'm always glad to help out the school, but in the past..."
"In the past, no self-respecting West would send his children to Pembrooke. This is the first generation of Wests to be completely unrepresented at Sonrise. You may have lost faith in our traditions, but we never lost faith in you--not even after your rather lack-luster performance at a B-rated party school in California of all places."
"Aunt Phil, I'm sorry. How can I help you out?"
"I don't think you can, Gerald. I think a B-rated lawyer who only got into Harvard Law because his old headmaster vouched for him isn't 'fully empowered' to deal with this endeavor. I shall manage on my own. Kiss Madison and Ashley for me. I'll see you next Christmas." and with that Phil hung up the phone and cried.
Yeats brought in a pot of coffee a respectful while later.
Thank you, William." she said.
You're welcome, miss." he answered.
Sighing she pulled the contracts toward her. All the fight had gone out of her, and she still had to decide. She was too tired to figure this deal out, and too old to think of something else. In a blaze of desperation she began to sign wherever she saw an X. Halfway through she called Yeats in to be her witness. Together they slogged through thirty separate documents.
As she slipped the papers into the bag for the messenger service she realized that she had no clear idea of what she had just done, but she hoped it was all for the good.
"William, call the messenger service in the morning, please."
"Yes, miss."
"Goodnight, William."
"Goodnight, miss."

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