“Well, uh… Aidan isn’t much of a movie guy. He is much more into video games these days. I am not sure if this would pique his interest.”
The rush of heat hits my cheeks. The layers of foundation on my face can’t hide the panic that shows up in red splotches all over my skin.
Audrey stares at me for a split second, deciphering what to do with this information. I don’t even know what to do with this admission.
Aidan would probably be thrilled at the chance that someone was interested in working with him.
Every awkward second that passes, I keep speaking, doing what Skye dared me to do.
“Your work alone speaks for itself. You need to get backed by someone who will truly see your vision and has experience in the industry.”
The glass of champagne must be going to my head, because I catch myself saying this before my own thoughts have caught up to me.
“You think?” Audrey asks with a hopeful smile. The room suddenly feels so small. I’ve trapped myself in a box. My forehead practically reads, “Don’t ask the Whitmore’s for anything.” There is no stopping me now.
Mrs. Whitmore is surrounded by her high-society friends.
Mr. Whitmore is nowhere to be found as per usual.
Greer is near the garden where all the smokers gather.
Aidan is still talking to the Fairchilds.
“I would have no reason to lie to you. You would do better with attaching a big name to your film or going through a private investor that has a proven track record.”
Audrey sets her phone on the table, turning her body away from the dance floor. Her full attention to me.
“What would you know about my vision?”
She’s now crossing her arms and I want to die inside.
“I am going to take off these heels. I hate them.” The pain alone from these shoes would make anyone lose their mind.
“Tell her how much you like her work. Don’t stop now!” Skye chimes in. I stare at my glass, which no longer has champagne in it.
“I know you are meticulous with every detail. The way you got Alexander Green to directTwo-Skilledafter being retired for ten years!
How you managed to turnStonewallfrom an indie movie barely scraping by at Sundance to a major box-office production.
“How you got all new writers to curate a script forUnder the Mistletoeafter the movie had two previous producers drop out.”
My whole body feels elated, every cell in my being buzzing with anticipation.
“You know your stuff.”
I nod.
“Have you produced any of your own films?”
I shake my head.
“She’s going to think you are a mime, Charlotte,” Skye whispers.
“Well, random stranger, I couldn’t agree more. I need someone who just gets it.”
Pushing my shoulders back, I straighten my back.
“To be real with you,” she says, “I am getting outside pressure to secure the financing faster. But you’re right—I can’t be callous about this. They could change my whole vision.”
