The night with Dorothy was just what Henry needed, as he expended a lot of energy and stress out of his system throughout the night and early morning. He paid the bills, left a very generous tip for the lady and then took an uber back to his crib. Once back in the big house, Henry poured himself a scotch, getting some hair of the dog action going, and then sat down in front of his main desktop and turned on the monitor. The page he was working on when the call came in to tell him about Lou was still there, patiently waiting for him to return and pay attention to it again. Henry sat down, took a deep breath and started to write. After taking a day off to let off some steam seemed to do the trick as the flow has returned, and the words were flowing like a river coming down from the mountains. A small smile crept across Henry's friend like he was welcoming an old friend that had returned from a long trip. He was feeling it as the words were coming out and meeting the page like two lovers in a deep, passionate embrace. It was on days like this when Henry wished time would slow down so that he could milk as many words out of it as he possibly could. He sat there at the desk, writing like a madman before it happened.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

The sound came echoing throughout the rooms, and it almost sounded like the kind of knock you'd hear before the police came crashing through the door. Henry stopped writing, but rather than respond, he took a deep breath, and went back to work. He didn't give a shit who it was, and if it was important...

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Henry let out a loud groan, as this was the last thing that he wanted.

"Go the fuck away!" He screamed from his den, but the room was probably too far away from the main doors to be heard.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

It was at this moment as Henry looked back at the screen when he realized what had happened; the flow was gone. He growled rather loudly as he hopped out of his chair and started to walked toward the main doors.

"Son-of-a-fucking-bitch!" he called out as he marched to the main doors with purpose.

As he swung the doors open, standing there was his agent Trevor. He was holding something to eat along with a few bottles of orange juice. He looked rather happy with himself but that soon changed when he noticed the rather angered, red face of his client.

"Henry?" Trevor started, looking a little worried now. "Are you alright?"

"Trevor," Henry started, sounding much calmer than he really was. "Regardless of what I'm about to do, please remember that I do love you and appreciate the efforts that you'll be making on my behalf this weekend."

Trevor looked confused, "What do you mean..."

Without warning, Henry bitch slapped his agent with a hard open hand. Despite hitting hard enough to knock the man off his feet, Henry reached out and grabbed his collar to prevent that from happening. Trevor paused for a moment and then finally realized what had happened.

"Aw shit," Trevor said, "You were flowing?"

"I was," Henry confirmed, "But not anymore. Come on in."

Trevor did his best to apologize, begging for forgiveness, but none was needed. Henry knew that his agent meant well and didn't do it on purpose. The fact that he brought supplies with him was actually helpful and might help him get it back once the bald fuck left, which was going to happen sooner than later.

"What's up," Henry asked, taking one of the bags from him.

"Well, I wanted to go over our plans for the weekend," Trevor confirmed, "I rented out a rather sweet SUV, and I did that for space more than anything else. The thing gets good mileage, easy to rest in and floats like a cloud. I figured the space might be helpful if you bump into anything and impulse shop."

"That's a good point," Henry said, as he understood Trevor's thinking. The last time he and Trevor traveled together, his agent learned the hard way that Henry loved to hit antique shops and especially flea markets always hunting for a good deal. This time his agent was making sure the car has some extra space to make sure they could handle any impulse purchases.

"I do suggest we keep the spending to a minimum until after the services," Trevor suggested, "Last thing you need is to come off as insensitive. They already don't like you probably."

"I'm sure some of them like me," Henry said, feeling hurt. "I mean she burned a lot of bridges so I think there will be just as many people who know what I went through rather than looking to point fingers and lay blame."

"Let's assume we're going to encounter a bit of both," Trevor said, "That way we'll be ready for both and be able to duck and cover when necessary."

"Where shall we be staying?" Henry asked.

"I booked us two very nice rooms as the Red Roost." Trevor said, "This one happens to have a pool, but it might be too chilly for that. They have room service and are close by to some very nice places where we can eat anytime we like!"

Henry looked back at his agent, with a look of utter disgust.

"Red Roost?" Henry said, taking a deep breath. "Was the Holiday Inn unavailable?"

"Hey," Trevor said, sensing the hostility. "Before you say a thing, this is strategic!"

"Strategic?" Henry said, suddenly more curious and frustrated. "Expand."

"I thought it would be best," Trevor said, "Because if someone got angry enough to try to hunt you down, that would be the last place anyone would look for you."

Henry stood there and thought about it, and then let out a bellowing laugh. He was right, that was the last place anyone would look for someone as articulate as Henry. Hell, his own disgust proved that not even he would suspect to find himself there.

"I like your thinking," Henry said, taking away his orange juice, "You better have vodka to go with that."

"Of course I do," Trevor said, pulling out the sixty ouncer of Smirnoff.

"Excellent," Henry said, strolling back to the kitchen, "Let's make lunch and go over all the details!"