“Without giving away too much, I’d say it’s an adult Western, rather than a family one.”

“So you expect an R rating?”

“We’re working on that. The ratings people have asked for a little toning down here and there—nudity and violence, some of the language. It’s my view that the old West has had too much of a cleaning up. The real West was a violent place, and the inhabitants were a profane bunch.”

“How about the women?”

“In a town like the one in our movie, most of the women were whores.”

“No wives, no families?”

“Perhaps those belonging to the local merchants. The rest were for rent by the hour, or less.”

“And do you feel it necessary to your story to portray them that way?”

“I like realism. How about you?”

“Within limits. I don’t see the necessity of making a film that takes the lowest view of all its characters, especially the women.”

“Ah, a feminist, huh?”

“Of course.”

“What do you mean, ‘of course’?”

“What woman isn’t a feminist these days? Don’t you favor equal pay for equal work?”

“There’s no equality in the movie business. There’s only who draws the audiences in, and that’s usually the male stars, especially in Westerns. Can you remember a Western where a woman was the star?”

“One or two.”

“Do you remember what the grosses were?”

“No.”

“I can tell you, they bit the dust, first week out. In the movie business we learn from our mistakes.”

“What about your female star in this picture, Helen Beatty?”

“She plays a whore.”

“Does she get the same salary as Brad Goshen?”

“Of course not, haven’t you been listening?”

“Does she appear on fewer pages of the script than Mr. Goshen?”

“I take it you’ve read the script—you tell me.”

“She has two more pages than Goshen.”

“You sure about that?”

“I can count, Mr. Tirov.”

“Call me Boris, Christy,” he said, looking her up and down again.

“I prefer Mr. Tirov and Ms. Mayson, if you don’t mind.”

Tirov shrugged. “Why would I mind?”

“Mr. Tirov, you have a reputation in the film community of being obstreperous—”

“What’s that? My English is not perfect.”

“Surly and aggressive, especially with women. Does that help?”

“Who said that about me?”

“Every single person I’ve talked to who knows you or has worked with you, and that’s probably a couple of dozen. I try to do my homework.”

Boris felt his temperature rising. “Then you’ve been talking to the wrong people.”

“Whom should I talk to? Give me some names, and I’ll call them. I want to be fair.”

“I won’t have you bothering my friends.”

“You don’t seem to have many,” she replied.

“Why would you say that?”