“I’m kidding,” Sol said, then she yawned. “Just recharging before I go out there inthat.” She pointed towards where her next gown hung, being dutifully steamed by Lando’s assistant. It was a frothy cloud of pink tulle, shot through with delicate floral embroidery and almost entirely see-through.
“Yeah, I get why you’d need to rev yourself up for that one,” I said.
“It’ll look fire though.” Sol sighed dreamily.
“Sol!” Blaise yelled. “If I’m sticking these gems on your face, I need you in the chairyesterday.”
“Ugh.” Sol groaned and downed the rest of her tea. “Coming.”
“You want another?” I took her mug. She nodded gratefully and I ushered her towards Blaise. “Coming right up.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
The screening finished to rapturous applause. I had burst with pride when Elliot joined RJ, Sol and the rest of the cast upfront before the screening to introduce the movie, and everyone was simply buzzing as they began the after-party celebrations. RJF had taken over one of the courtyard areas around a large pond, thick with lily pads. Festoon lighting had been strung overhead and a string quartet played contemporary tunes to serenade the guests, who tucked into vegan canapés and champagne. The whole scene was magical, glamorous, celebratory. I hugged myself; it was moments like this that made me certain I’d picked the right career.
Sol flitted around the party like an exotic bird, embracing her castmates and industry peers with generous smiles and posing for the official photographers. She was luminous; her performance was all anyone could talk about. As Sol engaged in happy conversation with Janice again, I noticed Riley and Noah locked in what looked like heated discussion by one of the makeshift bars by the pond. In fact, Noah wasn’t just arguing – he looked hysterical, and Riley was clearly trying to calm him down.
“Lucie?” Sol’s voice cut across my reverie.
“Yes, hello?” I snapped back to attention.
“I’m really confused,” Sol said.
“About what?”
“You,” she said. “Twin Roses.”
Now I was the one who was confused. “I don’t get what you mean.”
“I just mentioned your idea to Janice,” Sol said. “Told her to get you in to pitch it.”
Pure joy coursed through my veins. “Oh, that’s so—”
“Problem is, I’ve already had the same idea pitched to me,” Janice said.
“Wait.” I shook my head in dismay. “Someone else wants to adaptTwin Roses?” I’d always prepared myself for this possibility, but for someone to pip me to it when I’d just had interest from Sol was galling.
“Not only that,” Sol went on. “From what Janice said, the exact same type of adaptation you propose.”
This couldn’t be right. “What do you—”
Sol cut me off. “Me as the lead. Staging it in modern-day New York instead of Ohio. Lean into the sexuality and the fashion as a calling card … Sound familiar?”
“That’s my pitch,” I said.
“No, that’s the pitch I received, today,” Janice said.
“I’m guess I’m just disappointed,” Sol said. “I know I hadn’t signed anything, but you knew I was interested in working on this with you. Did you pass it to someone else?”
I felt like the ground was tilting beneath my feet and not because I was wearing impossible shoes. “No, no. There must be some kind of mistake.”
“I was under the impression this pitch was the brainchild of the producer I met with.” Janice fished around in her clutch. “Here’s his card.”
I took it, yet again having the eerie feeling I knew who was responsible before my eyes even clocked the name:
Ralf Fisher
Executive Producer and MD
