With all his wives he’d been faithful until the boredom set in. Then he went fishing for fresh talent. At the end of his second marriage he’d tried to figure out why he became so easily disconnected from women he thought he loved. After pondering it he’d decided most women were like well-presented but uninteresting meals: nice to look at but no fun to feast on time and time again.

When his third wife left him, Johnny had struggled briefly with the question of why he kept getting married. The only thing he could figure out was that he was too damned impulsive. With Madeline he’d thought he had chosen more wisely. In her early forties when he’d met her, she was stunning to look at, had a great sense of humor, and was extraordinary in bed. He liked the fact that she was mature, sophisticated, and successful. He dated her for a year, seeing no other women during that time, before popping the question.

After the marriage she’d held him at the banquet table far longer than any of his other wives. But that had all gone south a year ago.

In his office Johnny stuffed a copy of the screenplay in an envelope for Kerney, filled out the airbill form, and phoned to have it picked up. Then he called his lawyer and left a message about his DWI arrest in Santa Fe. Finished with the small stuff, he dialed the private office number of Bill Esty, vice president in charge of programming at a cable sports network in New York.

“Is it wrapped up?” Esty asked.

“The film office is drafting the final contract. We can move ahead.”

“Johnny, we still have some issues to clear off the table.”

“What issues?” Johnny demanded. “I’ve got a movie deal in the bag that will feature two ex-national pro rodeo stars, two up-and-coming Hispanic cowboys from the circuit, and a screenplay with a humdinger of a gut-busting rodeo in it.”

“We know all that,” Esty said slowly, “but it’s been suggested that rodeo may already be nearing its saturation point. Bull riding is on cable almost every night and the numbers aren’t moving.”