“Sadly, I can’t claim that as mine,” I said. “I attended a panel at the London Film Festival last year, Janice Kittredge was on it.”
“And she said that?”
“She did.” It had been a fascinating discussion on the challenges facing modern cinema-going and Janice had been vocal about the need to balance financial responsibility with creative risk-taking. The fact I was now working on a project for her studio was surreal to say the least.
“I think RJ is finally understanding that,” Ralf said. “I can only hope Elliot’s attitude shifts too. But, hey, if he gives you any real trouble, come to me.”
Arriving outside, we were greeted by a symphony of horns from the traffic clogging Tenth Avenue. A warm breeze snaked its way through my hair and the trees rustled musically overhead. Vivian didn’t stop to say goodbye. She slid into a limousine idling at the curb.
“Thanks for that,” I said. “You’d better go to your concert.”
He tilted his head, beamed warmly. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely.” I pasted a fixed smile on my face. Elliot might doubt my abilities to deliver, but I was damned if I’d let anyone else think I wasn’t up to the task.
“Have a wonderful evening, Lucie.” He winked and then strode off down the street, walking like he owned the city. I watched him for a few seconds as I convinced my tired legs tomove, relieved that for all the hostility shown by the likes of Elliot and Vivian, there were people like Ralf, Juno and the IT team who gave me hope this job wouldn’t be a total disaster.
Trudging down the street, I decided to take a chance and call Bex.
“Heyyyy!” Bex picked up immediately.
“Greetings from New York!” I said as punchily as I was able. “Hope it’s okay to call this late.”
“Of course,” she said, “I’m still working anyway. How was day one?”
“Fine,” I lied, dodging a man carrying an enormous suitcase.
“What’s wrong?” She knew straight away, because of course she did.
“Nothing, not really.” Loud crunches echoed down the phone. “What are youeating?”
“Broccoli.”
“What, raw broccoli? By itself?”
“It’s this new wellness regime I’m on for the wedding. Lots of raw veg and pulses, lentils and that.”
“Mate, that sounds proper grim.” Bex hadn’t told me about the health kick. She normally told me everything. “But good luck with it. How’s work?”
“Manic,” she said. “I’m prepping for a new client meeting tomorrow and I’m behind on everything. So tired. Just wish I hadn’t given up sugar for this diet. And caffeine.”
I balked. “I was with you until the no caffeine. Why would you do that to yourself?”
“Um, hello, bride-to-be here!” she declared. “I want to look like a fucking goddess when I walk down that aisle.”
“You will look like one no matter what.”
“Hope so. I had an erotic dream about Oreos last night.” Bex brushed off the compliment. “Anyway, enough about me, how was today?”
“Fine. Mixed.” I paused at a cross street.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” The pedestrians around me swarmed the crossing, indifferent to the taxi trying to force its way around the corner. Taking a breath, I joined them. “Seems like some people at RJF don’t think I deserve this opportunity.”
“Are you sure you aren’t being a little bit sensitive?” Bex asked.
“No, an exec told me, and I quote,I don’t know what business someone like you has coming in on a project like thisor something like that.”
