“You can’t kill Esther. I wrote this screenplay to finish a story my ancestor started. I wrote it to finish my own...another’s... love story. If you kill Esther, you kill those women too. In this movie, the hero and heroine do not die. They live happily ever after. This story is about love, not death. And Chloe? She’s an amazing actress, but for some reason, Hollywood won’t let her live. She’s typecast. But on this project, we’re reversing that course.”
He sounded way more confident than he felt.
Zarzour doused out his cigarette in the bowl, losing his jocular demeanor. “I didn’t know you were in charge, Jesse. You’re a screenwriter. Who got lucky. Now, make those changes or I’ll find someone who will. We needed them yesterday. And if Chloe is such a great actress, she can give us an Oscar-worthy death scene.” He stood and pushed back his jacket, anchoring his hands on his belt. “Sea Dragonis our lead film next year. It cannot fail.” The man exhaled and walked toward Jesse, visibly gathering his composure. He popped Jesse on the arm. “You make these changes, and I personally promise a movie from one of your scripts. Within two years. You’re an actor, too, right? We have a film coming up early next year I’d like to cast you in.”
Clever, Zarzour. Appealing to my ego.
He glanced toward Chloe. She leaned against the wall, staring toward the lake view, arms folded, her green eyes rimmed red.
Zarzour turned to his assistant. “You ready?” She nodded, and the two of them started for the door. “Jeremiah, Chris, I’ll be in touch withSea Dragondetails. In fact”—he motioned to his assistant, who took more notes—“I’ll have the script and production notes sent over today.”
“I won’t do it.” Jesse tossed the script on the table, pulse pumping. Shooting himself in the foot never felt so good.
Zarzour turned, making a face, returning to where Jesse stood. “What do you mean you won’t do it?”
“You want the changes, make them yourself. Hire Aaron Heinley for all I care. I’m not doing it.”
“Jesse, this is your script, your movie.” Jeremiah stepped toward him. “Make the changes. You can do it faster than anyone else. Keep some control. And set yourself up for the future.”
“I’m not cutting the Christmas scene, nor am I killing Esther.”
Zarzour scoffed. “Don’t challenge me, Jesse. Make the changes or you’re fired.”
Fired? Suddenly none of his Hollywood aspirations mattered.
“Jesse...” Chloe moved toward him. “Make the changes. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Yes, yes, it is.” Jesse glanced at her, then at Jeremiah. “Are we really going to let him do this to our project?”
“Jesse, this is the movie business—”
“And it’s about making money,” Zarzour said. “You should know that by now. You’re still in good standing with me, Jesse. I can guarantee your future. So make the changes.”
Jesse’s gaze met Chloe’s. She stood between him and Zarzour, hands clasped at her waist, slowly shaking her head.
Don’t hesitate now, man.“Then I guess I’m fired.” Jesse walked around the sofa toward the door, adrenaline pounding in his head.
“Jesse! No, wait!” Chloe jostled Zarzour aside, reaching for Jesse’s arm. “Don’t do this. Please. You took a stand. Made your point. Don’t ruin your career for me. Don’t let someone else writeyourstory.Yourancestor’s story.”
“If I make those changes, I’m breaking my promise to you. I can’t do it, Chloe. I can’t let you down.”
“It’s just a movie, Jesse.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she stepped closer. “I’m not Loxley,” she whispered.
“If it’s just a movie, then how come it feels so real?”
Freeing himself from her, he headed outside and down the driveway toward the road. He’d need every mile of his walk back to the hotel to work this out.
“Jesse.” Jeremiah caught him halfway to the road. “I don’t like this any more than you do. What you did back there? Standing up for yourself, for Chloe... It took guts, and I respect you forit. But I need you to make those changes. We’ll work together on it—”
Standing there, trembling, he knew the reality of his refusal. “I can’t let her die. Not again. Don’t you see?”
“Are we talking about Chloe?”
“Yes... no... I don’t know.” Poor Jeremiah, caught between Jesse’s past and his future. “Either way, I’m not writing her death scene. I’m sorry, Jeremiah.” With that, he flipped his collar against the stiff wind and marched down the long driveway toward the road.
23
HAMILTON
