one week later

It was a week before I saw Feldman again, He walked in without any expression and promptly sat down, holding tight to the book.
“Good day, doctor,” I said.
“Mr. Feldman."
“Sorry. Mr. Feldman.”
“It's alright. You have nothing to be sorry about,” he said.
“Pardon?”
“Never mind. What should we talk about today?”
“Whatever you would like.”
“Nothing really, 'cause it doesn’t matter, 'cause it doesn’t really matter. We’re just entertaining his people.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean if the readers don't like it, he might change it.”
“Change what?”
“The story.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“He changed my life many times in the course of a day.”
“Who did James?”
“No, the author of the book.”