“I’m not going to hurt your show.”
“I mean it. This one matters.”
There was something in the way she said it that brought Audrey up short. “What do you mean, ‘This one matters’?”
“I’m in talks,” non-explained Jennifer.
“What sort of talks?”
“Don’t be obtuse. Talks about selling the show.”
It shouldn’t have been shocking—TV franchises changed hands all the time—but Audrey was shocked anyway. “Selling to who?”
“There’s a couple of offers on the table. But how much I get and what I do next depends on how well this series lands. If I nail it, I can do what I fucking like. And I enjoy doing what I fucking like.”
“Still,” Audrey tried. “It must be hard.”
“Hard?”
“Giving something up after you’ve put so much of yourself into it.”
Jennifer glared. “I told you, I haven’t—”
It was dark enough that Audrey didn’t think an eye-roll would be effective, so she just groaned theatrically. “Yes, yes, you haven’t actually put any of yourself into the show at all. It’s just mindless tat you hate aimed at people you despise. Except if that was true, you’d have bailed long ago.”
“Would I now?”
“Expectationshas been one of the biggest things on television for years. If you’d wanted a buyer, you’d have found one. If this was just a stepping stone for you, you’d have stepped.”
“Perhaps I was being lazy.”
“Oh, right.” Audrey made the most sceptical face she could. “Because a lack of energy and ambition is one of your most noticeable character traits. It’s right up there with tact and fear of conflict.”
Jennifer didn’t have a reply to that. She just stood there in the starlight looking miserable and wounded.
“Youareallowed to care about things,” Audrey told her. “It’s not a personality flaw. Or, if you prefer, it’s not incompatible with the personality flaws you’re so damned proud to have.”
“Maybe.” Jennifer made a surprisingly wistful sound. “But the thing is, this was never my idea in the first place.”
There were times to ask follow-up questions and times to give people space. This felt very much like a space-giving time.
“You know how…” For perhaps the first time since Audrey had met her, Jennifer hesitated. “You know how I said things hadn’t worked out with my ex because she wanted…all the lovely bullshit?”
Audrey made a valiant attempt to stop her brain filling in all the blanks at once. To respect the fact that this was Jennifer’s story and not hers. And she nearly succeeded. “The show was her idea?”
Jennfier nodded. “Turns out founding a production company together is a fucking stupid way to fix a relationship. Almost as bad as getting married. She left just as the series got picked up, and once she was gone, well—I mean I had to make something out of it, didn’t I? Otherwise, what would I have had to show for all those years and all that work?”
While Jennifer didn’t seem the sort to respond well to comfort, Audrey reached out anyway and laid a hand on her arm. And while she could still feel the tension through her sleeve, she thought it was easing.
“But you’re right,” Jennifer went on. “I could have got out years ago. Just—nostalgia, I suppose.”
They walked a little further, each in her own thoughts.
“You know what?” Jennifer made a visible attempt to pull herself together. “Fucking do it.”
The last time Jennifer had agreed to something, Audrey had made a who-are-you-right-now joke. But this seemed like a bad moment for it. Especially because this felt like she was seeing more of Jennifer Hallet than she’d ever been allowed to before. “Find Emily?”
“Why not? If it works, it’ll be abangerof a finale.”
