“Please," she said, stopping me with a light touch on my arm. “I want you to write my story. Your way.”“Do it,” she calmly announced, “or ...ou’re all fired,” fixing the surrounding crows with a steely glare. The dollar signs flashing in their eyes changed to panic at the thought of losing their meal ticket. They caved abruptly. She smiled sweetly and turned to me.“Tomorrow. One PM. Don’t be late,” she exclaimed, rhyming off the expected cliché of a Laurel Canyon address. She was gone before I. Even Ann Coulter had nothing to say, for a moment. When the moment passed, chaos broke loose. For what had been a quiet waiting room, there were an astonishing number of people present. Everyone wanted to know exactly what I meant, but the most obvious meaning was true. Elspeth had had sex with a national heart throb. Whatever her other virtues and vices, Ann Coulter is decisive when she wishes to be. In short order the three of us were in a private room. I apologized to Elspeth for the. More

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