Anne blinked. “Really?”
“Like the war on drugs.” Bev waved her hand in the air as she stepped outside. “That was some bullshit.”
“Thanks, Bev,” Anne called out, but the older woman was gone.
Anne arrived at Monkford Café a few minutes later and found Theo seated at a table near the front. He waved her over the moment he spotted her.
“Anne Elliot,” he said when she arrived at the table, and they exchanged a brief hug.
“Hello, Theo.” She took off her peacoat and scarf, revealing her jeans and loose-fitting cashmere sweater set—either she was underdressed or Theo, in his tailored suit, had overshot the formality of the situation.
She sat down across from him, ready to trade pleasantries until she could find the right time to ask him about what she had learned during her father’s Thanksgiving dinner, but Theo began talking before she could open her mouth.
“I have so much to catch you up on. Those documents you sent over were stellar, by the way. The network has some thoughts about where we might be able to cut corners, but we can go over those details later. The main headline is that they think there is real potential here, and…”
For the next fifteen minutes, Theo didn’t come up for air. Anne did her best to listen, grateful when the waiter arrived to take their order, then returned with coffee. She nodded politely but found it hard to follow Theo’s words. The clattering of the plates and the sounds of people enjoying their meals at the restaurant felt louder than she’d ever remembered.
Then she realized it wasn’t that she couldn’t focus on Theo’s words. She didn’t want to. All she wanted to think about was Freddie, their fight, the Eufloria postcard still in her bag. Her life felt so fundamentally different than it had just two months ago—but was that necessarily a bad thing? She’d been playing it safe for so long, but hadn’t been happy. She’d barely been living.
Theo cleared his throat, and it broke Anne’s reverie.
“There you are,” he said with a smile. “Everything okay?”
She was sick of contorting herself to fit into everyone else’s life. And she wasn’t going to wait for the right time to call people out on it, either. “Theo, how long were you going to develop a series with the star ofDivorce Divaswithout telling me?”
Theo’s eyes widened, but he recovered quickly, letting out a short laugh. “You beat me to the punch. I was going to tell you today, along with the good news. We’ve got a series ordered. Eight episodes ofThe Diva Code with Denise.”
He waited, like she should have had some reaction. All she could do was stare back.
“Congratulations, Theo,” she said. “Good for you.”
He smiled. “Good for us! Now that we have an approved budget, I can bring you on board.”
She cocked her head to the side. “In what capacity?”
“Well, you’d have to start at a production manager level, just for the first season. You didn’t get an official credit onDivorce Divas, so it’s hard to justify a higher title, you know?”
She stared at him for a moment. “Theo. I created all the documentation that secured you this series to begin with.”
“And I’m so grateful, Anne,” he said, his expression morphing into something resembling pensive. “Really grateful. But you know how these networks are. They want to see every line item justified. But it would only be for one year, then the sky’s the limit. What do you say?”
She should be angry. Or at least annoyed. But all she felt was relief. Of course he was trying to screw her over. Why had she expected anything else?
“No,” she replied.
He paused. “Sorry?”
“I said no.”
“Okay…” he said, looking confused. “But… why?”
“Because I’ve spent the past decade cleaning up everyone else’s messes, handling everyone else’s schedules. I have better things to do now.”
He frowned. “Like what?”
“Selling flowers,” she said, letting a smile take over her lips. “And hanging out with a college dropout.” Then she stood up and took one last sip from her mug. “Thanks for the coffee, Theo.”
“Are you seriously turning this down?” he asked. “It’s locked and loaded.”
