“Don’t be.” He leaned against the wall, regarded me. “How was your first day?”
“Full,” I said. “And I am so, so jetlagged.”
“Ah, shame,” he said. “There’s a classical concert at the Rockefeller. Lysander Trio. I happen to have a spare ticket, if you’d like to come? My ah, date, canceled on me.”
“I’m sorry about your date,” I said. “And that’s really kind of you, but I don’t think I’m classical concert ready.” I gestured down at my clothes, rumpled from a day hunched over my laptop.
“Nonsense,” he said. “You look delightful.”
He was being quite insistent for a man I’d just met and persistence in the face of rejection was an instant red flag for me, even if he did have a job I’d die for. Another yawn racked my body. Yeah, there was no way I’d survive a classical music concert without passing out.
“Maybe another time, I’m wiped. But thanks for the offer.” Pushiness aside, after a day of unrelenting negativity from Elliot, it was nice to have someone treat me warmly.
“Well, well.” He nodded behind me, and I turned to see Vivian, breath-taking in a black sheath dress and killer sandals. “Are you also going to the concert?”
“Yes,” she said. “But not with you.”
“Naturally,” Ralf said easily. “I’d be honored to split a cab fare with you?”
“Baldemar has sent my transportation,” Vivian said, shuddering at the mention of public transport.
Ralf grinned wickedly. “So nice of him to loan you his penny farthing.”
I dared not laugh in front of Vivian, but I had to marvel at Ralf’s fearlessness in the face of this woman, even if he did use fancy terminology like ‘I’d be honored.’ I would have put money on him being a Rugby Union fan if he’d been English.
She grinned thinly. “Actually, it’s his limousine.”
“I am so proud of him for embracing modern technology,” Ralf went on. “And of you, for your tireless dedication to preserving antiques.”
The lift door opened and we piled in, Vivian purposefully choosing to stand on the far side and burying her face in her phone. Ralf turned to me with a chuckle. “So, day one. Tell me more.” I thought for a moment and Ralf sighed. “Let me guess,” he said. “Elliot thinks you’ll make the movie less artistic and turn it into commercial trash that doesn’t have any soul.”
I hadn’t planned to get so deep into my and Elliot’s relationship, but I couldn’t help nodding enthusiastically. “Basically.”
“He was the same at college,” Ralf said with a snort. “I failed a class thanks to him thinking he knows better than everyone else.”
“What?” I gaped. “How?”
“Oh, long story,” Ralf said. “You know, we were friends once. But NYU is tough, competitive. He struggled to fit in and play nice – well, you’ve met him. Our final assignment came along, he was drowning in college life and so he … stole all my notes, used my idea.”
“What?” A wave of apprehension hit me. I was about to spend weeks closeted in a room with a guy who might be capable of really shitty behavior. It was hard to wrap my head around. After one day, it was clear to me that Elliot was spiky and objectionable, yet passionate with a clear idea about the sort of art he wanted to make. But a thief? Ralf was regarding me with concern. “I’m shocked.”
“I’m sorry to break it to you,” he said solemnly. “But you should know the truth about the guy you’re working with.”
“Does RJ know about this?” I asked. Surely RJ wouldn’t stand for such a thing, if it were true.
“I doubt he cares. Elliot wrote and directed some fancy film that wowed a few people at a festival,” Ralf said. “Got RJ all hot and bothered, made him his right hand and gave him all this access and influence.” He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
I got the tiniest sense that Ralf longed for a taste of that access and influence. But that seemed too confrontational to say out loud. I didn’t know what to think. “He must have really hurt you,” I said, “if you guys still don’t see eye to eye after all this time.”
“Yes,” Ralf said tightly. “A world of hurt. But, please, don’t let this impact your working with him. I’d hate that.”
“I can stay professional.” I didn’t have much choice, afterall. “Not easy though. It’s clear he thinks mainstream movies are worthless or stupid.”
The lift doors opened, and Ralf let Vivian and me walk out first. “I’ve told him many a time, he can’t act like a gatekeeper to art,” he said.
“If cinema-going is to survive, studios must embrace mass consumerism as a key part of their business model,” I said.
“I like that!” Ralf grinned. “I should get it as a bumper sticker.”
