Another nepo baby.The words rang so clearly in my head they startled me, and I glanced at Ralf to make sure I hadn’t said the words out loud. I could only blame the ongoing jetlag for this. I had to get over my prejudice against nepotism; it was unavoidable, after all. “Is your dad why you got into film?”
Ralf thought for a moment. “I mean … yeah. I’ve sat in on more studio board meetings than I care to remember. Dad introduced me to the right people and NYU was his alma mater. I even joined his frat!”
He was so lucky. “What’s your favorite film then?”
Ralf laughed awkwardly. “Ahm, when was the last time I went to the cinema? Um …”
“You don’t go to the cinema?” I laughed.
“I’m a busy guy!” he shot back with a chuckle.
“But … but …” I was lost for words. Maybe it was naivety, but I’d assumed everyone at RJF was there because they cared passionately about getting movies on the big screen, about championing that sacred experience for every type of person.
Ralf noticed my flustering and smiled. “I mean, do I like movies? Sure, watched a heap of ’em. Do Ilovedoing deals? You bet.”
“So, it’s the business side of the business you’re into,” I said.
“Doer, not dreamer,” he said.
Remarkably, we found a section of the bleachers that could accommodate our group and we squeezed in, Elliot’s hugeframe hanging off the end. I was squidged between him and Riley, who surreptitiously pulled a hip flask from her backpack.
“I thought drinking in public was illegal here?” I looked around, fearful we were about to get descended on.
“Oh, it totally is,” Riley said, taking a nip.
“But everyone does it?”
“Um, yeah.” She gestured around us. “Don’t worry.”
“Okay.” I took the flask from her and sipped tentatively. “What is that, rum?”
“Strawberry daiquiri,” Riley said proudly. “Maybe I leaned in a little too heavily to the rum.”
“I’d best go steady then,” I told her. “Otherwise you’ll be carrying me out of here before it’s over because I’d be dancing topless or something stupid.”
Elliot made a strangled sound, and I turned back to him. “You okay?”
“No,” he said, red-faced. “In fact I—” His phone buzzed. “Save my seat. I gotta take this.” He slouched off.
“How is it going with him?” Riley asked.
“He hates me,” I said plainly. “We’re supposed to be bonding, but look, he can’t get away fast enough.” I looked at Elliot walking away, talking animatedly into his phone.
“He’s busy. RJ relies on him a whole lot,” Riley told me.
“I get it, I’m something he doesn’t want to deal with right now,” I said. “But we have to make this work.”
My words must have come out forcefully, because Riley’s face pinched in alarm. “Hey, you okay?”
“I will be if I can make Elliot Fox become my very best work friend,” I muttered.
“Give it time,” Riley soothed. “He’s one of the good ones.”
So I kept hearing – well, from everyone except Ralf, at least. But even if Elliot was a thief, I had to work with him and if he didn’t stop pushing me away, I was screwed. I shook myself,sat upright. I was in a gorgeous New York park in beautiful spring sunshine, about to witness my first baseball game. I had to snap out of it. I took a healthy swig of daiquiri. “So, you a big baseball fan?”
“Oh yeah,” Riley said. “Marlins represent!” She laughed at my blank expression. “It’s the Miami baseball team.”
“Gotcha,” I said.
