“Why not me?” I said. “I know a good movie when I see one. Besides, haven’t you read a few drafts of this project already? Maybe all that’s needed is a fresh perspective.”
Lin’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a big ask.”
Lin didn’t know how much of an ask. Doing this would almost certainly mean missing Bex’s party entirely. But it was her thirty-first birthday, hardly a major milestone. Besides, she was about to embark on this brand-new chapter of life, actual home ownership. She was preparing for the future, and I had to do the same. A script for RJ, one of our biggest clients … this was a huge deal. This could really prove my worth to Lin and finally be the kick she needed to promote me, to take me and myTwin Rosesproject seriously. Surely Bex would understand. I pushed my guilt to one side and removed my jacket. “I can do it.”
After an excruciating pause, Lin nodded. “Okay. I’ll email it to you. Do me a summary, send it back to me and I’ll review later tonight. Agree?”
My stomach flipped. “Got it.”
Lin tapped at her phone. “Forwarding RJ’s email now.”
Seconds later, my inbox pinged with a notification. “I have it.”
Lin exhaled in relief. “Good. Right. I’m off to prep for Kristoff.” She trilled his name as if she were about to break into song as she threw on her trench coat. “Oh, and Lucie?” She paused before she left, and I looked at her hopefully. Was she about to thank me? Praise me for my dedication and ask to review myTwin Rosespitch? “You can send the PR brief for Gabriel.”
“Have a good night, Lin,” I said as she flounced out of the door.
After sending the brief, I opened Lin’s email. Attached was a PDF script plus a deck that outlined the premise of the project, so I reviewed that first. The story was set in New York in the not-too-distant future, as America pitched into all-out civil war. Much like Romeo and Juliet, it focused on two high-profile families and the romance between the eldest son and the youngest daughter from the opposing families. It promised epic scale, with action and heartbreak, a serious gear change from RJ’s smaller, more artsy movies. The idea was solid; if RJ pulled this off, it could elevate him to a status enjoyed by an elite few, possibly even bring him awards. In that instant, I knew I’d made the right decision to work on this – to be a part of such a project could be just the boost I needed.
As I started into the script itself, the hairs on the back of my neck began to rise. This was something exciting. The opening instantly grabbed my attention with dialogue that took my breath away and I remained firmly on the edge of my seat for almost the entire script, with the ending reducing me to actual tears. It was sheer poetry. But not quite perfect; something was missing.
The script asked the ultimate question: how far would you go for love? Those kind of stakes against the backdrop of civil war created a totally compelling premise. But as I reviewed my notes it became very clear that the characters needed morework, especially the female lead, Marla. I simply didn’t know who she was. Plus, some of the central section felt … fatty, with unnecessary, dialogue-heavy scenes that dragged the otherwise splendid momentum of the story. It was clear to me that if RJ could tighten the pace and color in the bland female lead, this could be something not just meaningful, but brilliantly entertaining.
I forged on, eyelids drooping. By the time the report was finished it was approaching 10 p.m. and my brain hurt with exhaustion. I checked the document over one last time – summary, editorial suggestions, and business rationale articulated in what I hoped was a neat and efficient manner. I opened the email Lin had forwarded and hit ‘reply’, noting the chain below contained an increasingly heated exchange between Lin and RJ over negotiation terms with the studio. As I attached the report, the screen flickered. I yawned hard and rubbed my eyes. Wow, I was bone tired, but nothing a celebratory cocktail and some of Sergio’s famous arancini couldn’t fix. I attached my report to Lin’s note, then typed:
Hope this helps. There’s something special here, but it needs drastic edits to make it commercially viable.
As my finger hovered over ‘send,’ the screen went blank.
I tapped the keyboard a few times, wondering if the screen had just gone to sleep. It stayed ominously dark. Fighting a cold wash of panic, I slapped the side of the laptop, as if hoping that would shake it back to life. But still nothing.
Shit shit shit.Lin needed this report tonight and unless I could make this keyboard work, there was no way to retrieve it. In my rush to complete the report as quickly as I could, I’d saved it to my desktop without backing it up to the central server, so there was no way to access it from another device.
I glanced down at my phone to check the time, noting with a crash of guilt I had several missed calls from Bex. I was sovery late. I had to send this now. Not only was I letting my best friend down more and more with every additional second that I sat here, but not sending Lin the report meant I could miss out on a chance to prove what I was really capable of. Fully panicking now, I tapped the keyboard, wiggled the mouse and clicked its buttons. When nothing happened, I desperately ran my hands back and forth over the keys, the motion increasingly forceful as the screen remained stubbornly dark.
Just as my eyes pricked with frustrated tears, the screen blinked back into life, with the email ready and waiting to be sent. Almost crying with relief, I hit ‘send’ before the screen could die again, the reassuring whoosh of the message making its way across the internet sounding like the sweetest music.
Chapter Four
Sergio’s was nearly empty, the music soft and low as candles bathed the small restaurant in golden light. At the rear, a long table was draped with streamers, a cluster of balloons nearby. Bex was leaning back in her chair, laughing along with Dan. The other chairs around the table were vacant – the party was over. I checked my watch with a ripple of guilt. 10.30. I was so incredibly late.
I took a moment to watch my best friend. Bex was always beautiful, but there was something special about her tonight. She wasglowing, gazing into Dan’s eyes with pure love and laughing that incredible, throaty gift of a laugh. Which was why it made it all more heart-breaking when Bex caught sight of me, and her jubilation sputtered out. I hurried over, thrusting a gift bag before me like a shield.
“I know, you’re sorry,” Bex snapped before I could say anything.
“I am.” Guilt made my voice crack. “Do I at least get some tiramisu?”
Dan nudged a bowl to his right. “We saved you a slice. But it’s been sat out a while.”
My stomach growled. “That’s fine.” I took a seat opposite Bex, Dan between us like an uneasy mediator. I dug into the now room-temperature dessert, trying not to wince as Bex pushed my gift bag to one side. “How was everyone?”
Bex shrugged. “All asking after you.”
I blushed. “I was at—”
“Work, yes, don’t worry, I told them.” Bex downed a mouthful of champagne. “What did Lin have you doing now?”
I braced myself. “Well, I was about to leave, but then this director – Ruben James – sent her a script to read. It’s his first movie script and he’s sent like a billion drafts. Lin’s sick of them but he wanted feedback on this one today. And she had dinner plans, so I ended up reading the script for her.”
