"That sounds boring."
"Well, it gets exciting when it rains and the mountain they live on turns into a mudslide disaster."
Hazel's mouth drops, and her eyes go wide, and I realize that the story sounds very tragic.
"She doesn't get hurt. She ends up being a hero when she helps evacuate everyone off the mountain."
"Is she a good hiker?"
"I'm not sure. But I'm sure the director will make sure she looks like she is."
"You should teach her how to hike. Maybe she could come with us one weekend."
The idea of that sends me into a panic, but it also excites me at the same time. At no point would I want a woman joining Hazel and me on our weekend hikes, but the idea of Sophia joining us sends a little buzz of electricity up my spine.
In fact, I get an even better idea.
I send off a note to my assistant, Emma, and ask her to book a scouting trip to Honey Pine Farms up in Santa Clarita. I just thought of a perfect location for the top of the mountain scene, and it involves a little hike to get to the top.
seven
. . .
Sophia
I'll nevertire of driving through these gates. I wave to the security guard as he activates the barrier arm so I can drive onto the lot.
"Morning, Ms. Ford."
"Hi, Larry. Another beautiful day today!"
"You got that right. Make the most of it!"
There's a distinct energy on the lot. Stepping out of reality into a world of possibility—it's electric. I pull into my reserved spot at Stage Twenty-Six, and a smile stretches across my face when I see the namePRODUCERon the sign. It still feels surreal that Grant and Edie took a chance on me.
As I'm stepping out of my car, Edie pulls up, looking surprised to see me.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were headed up north today."
"I am," I say. "I just wanted to check in, make sure everything's set up for today, and see if you needed anything."
Edie quirks an eyebrow, a hint of approval in her expression. "Come look. You'll appreciate the setup—we've got the details nailed down, and I know how much you love the details."
Edie Lang is one of Hollywood's most formidable forces. Tiny but mighty, she's a sci-fi legend who started with coming-of-age films that shaped an entire generation. She's the director and screenwriter behind this project and one of the most intense perfectionists I've ever worked with. After leaving her former agency, TWA, she also signed with Blair at Tangerine Talent, becoming one of her first—and most high-profile—clients. Now I get the privilege of working alongside Edie on my first producing venture, a leap that feels a little less daunting with her by my side.
I follow her through the stage door, where the exteriors of a house set greet us. From the outside, it's all unfinished two-by-fours and plywood walls, but I know what's waiting behind that front door.
"Imagine you've just pulled into the driveway after a twelve-hour drive," Edie says, her voice low and measured. "You're exhausted. It's late. You want to see your mom, but you hope you don't. Not tonight. Hold on to that feeling when you step inside."
She pushes the door open slowly, and I peek my head around her to see inside.
"It's incredible," I whisper. No matter how many sets I work on, I'll never stop being in awe of what our designers create.
The interior looks like a rustic yet well-loved log cabin. Every detail feels lived in. The recliner in the corner with adraped blanket, the worn magazines on the end table, and the family photos on the walls. Through the opening to the kitchen, I glimpse a fridge and sink positioned under a window that seems to look out at a mountain view. It's exactly what the script described.
"It's perfect," I say. "Just like the script."
Edie smirks. "It fucking better be. I agonized over this. It had to feel worn down enough to show why she wanted to leave but cozy enough that she'd miss it."
