“Yes?” I couldn’t see him anymore, but I heard a lifetime of longing in that word.
She hesitated, flicked her hair. “See you tomorrow.”
I decided my flight request could wait until the morning.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“What are you smirking at?” Vivian snapped as I approached her desk the following morning. I’d decided to keep her and Ralf’s little secret; after all, it wasn’t any of my business and I was no one to judge inter-office relationships. I was curious as to what the big risk was that they had been referring to – perhaps Vivian was planning to leave Baldemar to start something serious with Ralf? But Ralf had described it as an ‘opportunity’ he was grabbing, hardly the most romantic language to use. Besides, he’d tried to kiss me while in the midst of whatever this Vivian thing was – not exactly the mark of a gentleman in love.
“Nothing.” I hastily rearranged my face into a sensible expression.
“Now you look creepy,” she said. “What do you want? Spit it out.”
“I need my return flight booking. Please.”
Vivian’s face split into a smile. “You’re leaving us?”
“Yes.”
“Fabulous.” Vivian tapped her keyboard eagerly. “When?”
“I appreciate this must be devastating for you, but soon.”The pitch was scheduled for next Wednesday morning, the day after the premiere. “How about next Friday, in the evening?”
“You’re not wasting any time,” she remarked under her breath.
“Well, it’s because I have—”
“Oh, I don’t care,” she snapped, working at her computer. Then she paused. “You don’t have to hover,” she said, “I’ll email your confirmation through.”
“Thanks,” I said, backing away. What did Ralf see in her? She seemed to treat him no better than anyone else around here. I headed to the writers’ room and poked my head in hopefully, but Elliot wasn’t there waiting for me. I pulled my phone out: no messages. Making my way over to Sadie’s office, I braced myself for the usual Ralf greeting, but his desk was bare.
“Lucie!” Sadie’s smile was reserved but genuine. “How are you?”
“Just anxious about the pitch next week,” I said. “And I don’t know if RJ wants to have another review of the script or anything. He’s been so occupied over at theWoodstockset.”Him and Elliot, I added silently.
“The last draft was in pretty good shape, so I thought,” Sadie said.
“Thanks.” I blushed. “But I want to be sure we’ve done all we can.”
“I know, theWoodstockdrama came at the worst time,” Sadie said with a groan. “The network might can it at this rate.”
“Oh no.” Thrilled to be trusted with this news, I sat down. “Because the director is being difficult?”
“You mean Sherman?” Sadie barked a laugh. “It’s not Sherman causing the problems, honey, it’s RJ.”
“What?”
“Look, I’ve known RJ for a long time,” Sadie said. “We came up through the industry together. I owe him so much.” She waved a hand around her office, luxurious in its minimalism. “But he demands total loyalty and submission from his people. Sherman was his protégé and he expects that same dedication from him. Trouble is, Sherman is his own man, and he’s threatening to walk away from the whole show if he can’t have more creative control.”
“Can he do that?”
She pointed at her computer. “I’m reviewing his contract right now and, yeah, he can. Unfortunately, the network have full authority to pull the plug if he does.”
“That’s not great,” I said.
“No shit,” she said. “And we piss off that network, we can kiss our TV production arm goodbye because no other network will touch us and RJ’s dream of delivering the nextGame of Throneswill probably never be realized.”
“Right, yes, he’s chasing an Emmy as well as an Oscar.”
