“Cold Hearts” 3: The Second Draft

The first rewrite is never going to be the finished scene. In my experience, the tenth rewrite isn’t going to be the finished scene. You have to fix the glaring problems so you can see the ones that are merely evident. And then you have to fix the evident ones so you can see the one that are just bad. And then you have to fix the bad ones to see the one that are iffy. And then . . . The more rewrites you do, the better the scene gets, and the more clearly you can see its warts and bones. So the first rewrite is still going to be bad and it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that it’s better . . .

“Cold Hearts” Scene One First Rewrite/Second Draft

Courtney Maxwell had just finished belting out “Wedding Bell Blues” with Henry the security guard–putting some real effort into “C’mon and marry me, Bill”– when somebody knocked on the massive wood door to the shop and waved at them through the small bullet-proof window at the top.

Henry looked over the colored diamond case with his hand on his gun and then relaxed when the guy smiled and waved again, broad-faced and curly haired, the boy-next-door made flesh.

“Not bad looking, honey,” Henry said to her.

“He’d be better looking if he showed up before closing.”

On the CD player, Laura Nyro moved on from “Wedding Bell Blues” to “Stoney End” as Courtney put the last of the Orion watches in their black velvet case and put the case in the safe under the counter. Junk, she thought, no matter what Jordan said. “It takes a certain level of taste to appreciate these, Courtney,” he’d said. “These are ten thousand dollar watches.” Fuck you, Jordan, they’re junk no matter what they cost.

Jordan didn’t like Laura Nyro, either, which told you everything you needed to know about Jordan.

“He’s a redhead like you,” Henry was saying. “I could use some redheaded grandkids.”

“Unfortunately, you are not my father,” Courtney said.

The guy knocked again. She shook her head at him in the universal We’re closed, go away signal, but he didn’t leave. As clueless as Jordan, who’d had the nerve to correct her in front of a customer and be wrong. Jordan knew as much about diamonds as Courtney knew about quantum mechanics, but he’d made her look like a fool. She slammed the door to the safe and spun the combination.

“You’d still bring ‘em over for cookies and milk. Junie’d really like that.”

“Junie’d really like your ass home on time tonight, so no we are not opening up for this guy just because he’s cute.” I’m not that stupid. No matter what Jordan thinks.

The guy knocked again, harder this time.

“Persistent,” Henry said. “Good smile. You been alone too long. Go for it.”

“I’m not letting him in here. Jordan has accused me twice of being careless with security; I’m not getting any more lectures just because some guy can’t read a ‘Closed’ sign.”

“We don’t have a ‘Closed’ sign,” Henry said, “and Jordan’s a dope.”

The guy pounded again, and Courtney walked over and opened the door just enough to show a friendly but unyielding smile. “I’m sorry,” she said to him. “We’re closed for the evening. We’ll open again tomorrow at ten.” Jordan will be here. You can talk to him. He knows everything about diamonds. Just ask him

“It’s an emergency,” he said, his easy smile undercutting his words. “I’m getting engaged in fifteen minutes, and I’ve lost the ring.”

His brown eyes were warm and full of humor and he had a good strong jaw, and Courtney thought, Go away, I want to go home to my kid and some gin and imagine kneecapping my boss.

“Let him in,” Henry said.

“He’s engaged,” Courtney called back.

“Kick his ass out,” Henry said, and Courtney laughed, and the good-looking guy pulled a gun on her.

“What?” she said dumbfounded, and then he was knocking her back with the door as he pushed his way in.

“Really sorry about this,” he said, and slammed the door behind him.

“What the hell?” Henry said, and the guy swung the gun to Henry.

“No!” Courtney lunged between them, spreading her arms out, terrified. “No, you will not shoot Henry, he’s a grandfather! And I’m a single mother!”

The not-nearly-as-goodlooking-as-before guy looked at her in disbelief. “Do I look like I’m interested in the demographics here?”

“Don’t shoot Henry,” Courtney snapped. “I mean it.”

The guy sighed. “Henry, put your gun on the floor and kick it to me, and I won’t shoot you.”

“Hell, no,” Henry said, calm as ever.

“Henry, give him the damn gun,” Courtney said, glaring at the intruder. “I am not explaining your bullet-ridden body to Junie, and I’m sure as hell not leaving Leroy an orphan.”

“It’s my gun,” Henry said.

Courtney looked back at him, exasperation cutting through her fear. “Henry, kick that damn gun over to this asshole, or I will come back there and do it for you.”

Henry hesitated, and the guy said, “Henry, kick it over here or I’ll shoot the single mother.”

Henry put the gun on the floor and kicked across, and the jackass picked it up and put it in his jacket.

“You’re going to hell,” Courtney told the jackass.

“No doubt about it.” The guy reached in his jacket and pulled out white cable ties. “Now tie Henry’s hands behind his back so he doesn’t change his mind.”

“Henry’s got arthritis,” Courtney said, putting as much outrage as possible in her voice.

“I do not,” Henry said, disgusted.

“Not helping,” Courtney snapped and took the ties, glaring at the jackass before she went behind the counter with Henry.

“Do you have a plan?” she whispered to Henry as she tied his hands. “Because I’m not going to get shot for some stupid diamonds. I have a kid to raise.”

“Back door,” Henry whispered back. “I’ll distract him, you run for it.”

“He’ll want the vault.” Courtney gave a final tug, keeping her fingers inside the cables so they stayed loose. “I’ll take him back, you run for the cops.” She looked across the shop and called to the jackass. “Now what?”

He waved the gun toward the back of the shop. “Now we go to the vault.”

“Of course we do,” Courtney said.

Somebody knocked on the door.

“We gotta get a ‘Closed’ sign,” Henry said.

“You expecting somebody?” the jackass said.

Courtney squinted through the window. Whoever this one was, he was tall, his face in shadow under his hat. “Yes,” she said. “That’s my fiancé. I’d leave if I were you. He knows krav maga.”

“Get rid of him,” the jackass said, “or he’ll know bullet wounds.”

“Right,” Courtney said and went to the door, thinking about kneecapping the asshole with the gun.

No, she had to get serious. She had to make a plan. There had to be a plan, one that didn’t involve people ridden with bullet holes, especially if those people were her and Henry.

“Don’t try to be smart,” the jackass said, and the last of Courtney’s fear evaporated in rage.

Don’t talk about what you don’t know, Jordan had said.

Fuck both of you.

Courtney turned the lock and opened the door just enough to smile at the new guy. “Bill! Honey! Something’s come up and I have to work late! I’ll see you at home later!” Be a smart guy, know something’s wrong, call the cops.

“Not a problem,” he said cheerfully, and pushed the door open, shoving her back even though this time she’d put some back into keeping the door closed. She glared at him, and then he slid his arm around her waist, tightening it around her as she tried to move away and he looked past her to the jackass. “Something wrong?”

Across the room, the jackass pointed his gun at Henry’s head. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, patience palpable in his voice. “This is a robbery. Take off your hat, Bill.”

Courtney tried to move away again, and Bill shifted so that she was closer to the door, away from the jackass, his arm still tight around her. Then he took off his hat, and Courtney blinked up at him. Thick dark hair, clear blue eyes, cheekbones that could cut diamonds—

“Good-looking grandchildren,” Henry said.

“You’re kidding,” Courtney said to Henry around Bill’s back. “You’re doing that now?”

“Don’t be a hero, Bill,” the jackass said. “Or I shoot the single mother.”

“No heroes here.” Bill tossed his hat onto the nearest counter, not relaxing his grip on her. “So what do we have to do to get out of here alive?”

“Well, you could have left and called the police,” Courtney said, and he looked down at her and smiled. Hundreds of women had probably felt faint at the sight of that smile.

I don’t need a damn smile, pretty boy, I need somebody to call the cops.



“You’re coming back here with Henry, Bill,” the jackass said. “I have more cable ties.”

“No,” Courtney said, and gripped Bill’s lapel. “Please don’t leave me, Bill.”

The jackass cocked his head at her. “Really. Bill walks in and you become a clinger?”

No, Henry needs a clear path to the back door. “I’ve always been a clinger.” Courtney clutched Bill’s lapel harder. “Just ask Bill.”

“It’s true.” Bill pulled her closer. “I’m here for you, honey.”

If he copped a feel, she was going to slap him, but until then he had a nice hard chest and he wasn’t pointing a gun at her, plus she could use him as a shield, so for the moment, she was in favor of him.

“This was supposed to be a simple job,” the jackass said, but he sounded philosophical about it. “Take off your jacket, Bill.”

Bill let go of her and took off his jacket. No concealed weapons.

You are a huge disappointment, Bill. There had been a tiny little hope that he was law enforcement, but no, he had to be an ordinary, clueless citizen . . .

She watched Bill meet the jackass’s eyes, calm but alert, and then she looked again at the way they were staring at each other.

They knew each other. Something in the way they regarded each other, cautious but with recognition . . .

“And now we open the vault,” the jackass said, and waved his gun toward the back.

“You can do it, honey.” Bill pushed her gently toward the back, and she thought, They’re working together.

Well, fine. He still made a dandy human shield.

“If you say so,” she said, keeping him between her and the gun.

The jackass moved toward them and Henry took a step toward the back door.

Careful, Henry. Courtney began to walk toward the curtain at the back, dragging Bill along by his shirt. “I don’t even know why you’re robbing us,” she said to the jackass. “There are a lot bigger jewelry stores. We’re just a little hole in the wall. We can’t even afford a ‘Closed’ sign.”

“Really?” the jackass said. “What a shame. Might as well look as long as I’m here. Right, Bill?”

“I would,” Bill said, putting his arm around her again, and Courtney thought, What do you think I am, stupid? but clearly they did, or they wouldn’t be pulling this crap on her.

She reached the curtain to the vault room and pulled it aside, motioning the jackass to go through first. He gave her a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look, but behind him Henry disappeared into the storeroom on his way to the back door, so she went inside, Bill close behind, followed by the jackass.

The vault door was closed but not locked. Courtney bit her lip. “Oh, no, it’s locked.”

“And you don’t have the combination,” the jackass said. “What a surprise.”

“Only the manager can open it. That’s Jordan. And he won’t be back until tomorrow morning at ten.” She widened her eyes at the jackass. “Please don’t shoot us.” Come back tomorrow and shoot Jordan.

The jackass sighed. “You have no idea how tempting that is, but no. The vault is not locked. Open it.”

Damn it. “Fine.” Courtney bent down and flipped the latch on the vault. It wasn’t that she cared about the damn diamonds, it was that he thought that he could come in there a big ass gun and hurt people she cared about and that she was so dumb she’d have to do what he wanted—

“Open it,” the jackass said, his voice sharp, and Courtney said, “Fine.”

She straightened, pulled the door open, lunged inside, and slammed the vault door shut, catching Bill on the shoulder as he fell in after her. The jackass stuck his gun hand through the door, and Bill slammed it shut on his arm and the gun fell to the floor of the vault as the jackass yelled in pain. Then he yanked his arm out and Courtney slammed the door closed.

The thud from the door echoed in the silence as Courtney grabbed the gun from the floor and then leaned back against the door, breathless but reassured by the half dozen clicks that told her that the lock had engaged.

Bill smiled at her, his blue eyes beaming honesty and trustworthiness as he rubbed his shoulder. “That was unexpected.”

“You’re a thief,” Courtney said, and pointed the gun at him.

“That’s one interpretation,” Bill said.

“I’m aiming for the knees,” Courtney said and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, keeping the jackass’s gun trained on the other guy she couldn’t trust.

It was going to be a long night.