“No, I’m not so elderly I didn’t understand what you’re getting at.” It was my turn to interrupt. I looked directly at Melroy, taking extra care to focus thanks to three strong cocktails and dim lighting. “When I first read this script, I couldn’t get it out of my head. The themes, the love story … I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It’s so commercial but truly quality. ThinkDances With Wolves,The English Patient. This is what we’re talking about here. Plus, it’s going to be a doddle to market.”
“How so?” Melroy asked, waving a hand to stop Ralf butting in.
“Where to begin? I mean, so many opportunities for product placement,” I said. “Finn wears a baseball cap for, like, half the movie. Choose a big enough brand, stick its logo on the front, you can probably get best part of a million towards production and the studio can barter some deals for the marketing campaign. Share the cost of getting eyeballs on our movie.”
“Sol Rodrigues will be a huge sell,” Ralf chimed in. “She’s money in the bank.”
“Sure, she’s an asset,” I said boldly. “But you can’t rely on the star sell anymore. If audiences don’t feel this is a story that might speak to them, they vote with their wallets and stay inside with Netflix. This movie has the goods to be anevent. It’s original and its epic. So, maybe it is bold of RJ to bring someone like me in, but this movie needs bold. It could be a game-changer.”
“Huh.” Melroy nodded speculatively.
I downed what was left of my cocktail in relief, then instantly regretted it as my head swam. Four large servings of gin and fig liquor on an empty stomach were not sitting well. Ralf wrapped a buddy-buddy arm around Melroy’s shoulders and gestured at him with a whiskey that had magically appeared in his hand.
“What I think Lucie is trying to say is there is so much potential here. Could it all end in disaster? I mean, that’s a risk we take in this business. But I am telling you, man, I got you. Your money will always be safe with me.”
“Safe with RJF!” I blurted. Melroy took a small step back and I realized my gin-soaked breath was the reason. “Sorry.”
“Well, RJ has certainly assembled an interesting team,” Melroy said, permitting me an approving smile. “Lucie, you have some really neat ideas.”
I felt woozy. “Think I need something to eat.”
Ralf handed me the water. “Here,” he said gently. “Sorry, the cocktails here are strong.”
“They are.” I took a grateful drink as Ralf turned back to Melroy.
“Lucie makes a great point about food,” he said to Melroy. “Steak at the Commerce, on me?”
“You twisted my arm,” Melroy laughed and knocked back his whiskey.
I set my water down, feeling distinctly queasy. The thought of sitting in a restaurant eating heavy steaks made my stomach churn. Wow, the cocktails really had done a number on me. “I think I’m going to head home.”
“Are you sure?” Ralf asked.
“Yes.” I hiccupped. Sleep, carbs and pints of water were what I needed. But, more than that, watching Ralf work Melroy had made me distinctly unsettled. I understood Ralf’s drive more than anyone, but his ambition had a harder edge than mine, and I feared getting too close would only bruise me. “It’s been a long week and I’m tired.” I also wasn’t sure I could stand being this close to so much testosterone.
“Of course.” Ralf’s brow furrowed with the appearance of concern. “Should I help you get a cab?”
“No, no.” I waved my phone. “I’ll be fine. See you Monday.” As I turned to slip out of the chic little bar, Ralf slapped Melroy’s back manfully.
“Time for the men to set the world to rights, what do you say?” he said.
I tried not to gag.
Chapter Eighteen
“What were youthinking?”
It was early Monday morning and Sadie’s voice was strident, accosting me the second I stepped out of the lift.
“Excuse me?” I looked around in confusion, wondering if she was talking to someone else.
“Ralf has been non-stop scrambling to undo the damage you caused Friday night,” Sadie snapped.
“ThatIcaused?” I repeated, mystified.
“I have had to spend my weekend reassuring our key financier that the script is not in trouble,” she explained hotly as I followed her into her office. “Ralf had to comp Claude a two-hundred-dollar meal becauseyoucouldn’t stop blabbing about your lack of experience and that you didn’t know why you’d been brought aboard. Claude’s paranoid we don’t know what we’re doing!”
“Blabbing?” I held up a hand. “I didn’tblab. I didn’t lie about who I was, but he seemed happy after our chat.”
