“This is not a fart-logic situation,” I protested. “This is a ‘two temporary colleagues enjoying sight-seeing’ type situation.”
“If you say so,” she said with a grin.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Something had changed between Elliot and me. I felt it in the silence of the writers’ room and the way his eyes lingered a little too long on mine before looking away. I was very aware of where he was at all times, as if he were a sun and I a dazed little moon whose sole purpose was to orbit around him. It was pathetic, yet I couldn’t help breaking my own rules, unable to resist admiring the way Elliot’s hair curled at the neck or the way his long fingers moved over a keyboard. It left my thoughts in a jumble, rendering me an utterly useless writing partner, although Elliot didn’t seem to notice my permanent state of haziness. My third week at RJF flew by in a flurry of edits and late nights, which my new and improved laptop handled with ease.
On the Monday of my fourth week at RJF, I bumped into Sadie in the kitchen. To my surprise, she didn’t walk off with her nose in the air; she waited by the coffee machine as I made my latte, even returning my greeting smile with one of her own – granted, it was a little tight, but I took it as an invitation to engage in conversation and so I offered to make her a coffee too.
“No thank you,” she said. “I am quite particular.” She gestured at a carton of oat milk on the side. I finished making my coffee, but I lingered as she started making hers, hoping to chat some more. She glanced at me. “I hear the script is nearly finished. Just in time, huh?”
“We’re almost there.” It had almost been a month since I’d moved to New York. The pitch was next week, and I had to pinch myself.
“I want to apologize,” Sadie said unexpectedly. She pulled a small cup of black coffee from the machine and dribbled some oat milk in.
I thought I was hearing things. “I’m sorry?”
Sadie rolled her eyes. “I’m the one apologizing here.”
“Sorry.” I laughed nervously. “Oh fuck, seems like I can’t stop apologizing. It’s a disease.”
“Right.” Sadie began to walk, and I trailed after her, hoping for scraps. “I underestimated you,” she said. “The script is in such a good place right now and I must give you credit for that. You and Elliot, that is. You created magic together.”
“We did?” I felt like I was dreaming.
“I said you had chops, and I meant it,” Sadie said, pausing outside the writers’ room. “So bring this project home and there might be a future for you here. I’ll see to that myself.” And with a small smile, she headed to her office.
“I’ll hold you to that!” I called after her, although in my excitement I wasn’t sure if the words made any sense. Juno passed with a file and stopped when she saw me.
“What’s the goofy grin about?” she asked.
“Oh, Sadie treated me like an actual human being,” I told her.
“Huh.” Juno nodded, impressed. “Perhaps she’s made her monthly sacrifice to Beelzebub, that usually puts her in a good mood. Hey, let’s celebrate with another karaoke session at 1on1.”
“I’m in.” I’d had such a good time with them all. “Maybe we can get Michelle and more of the RJF crew to come along next time.”
“Aw, were you missing Ralf?” Juno said with a giggle.
“I certainly was not,” I said. Then I realized something; I hadn’t seen him around the office at all last week. I’d been so immersed in writing and, let’s be honest, in Elliot, I’d not considered it. “Where is he?” I asked. “Is he on holiday?”
“I don’t know,” Juno said. “Why, did you want a repeat of your kiss?” She pursed her lips, made kissy sounds.
“Ew, Juno,” I said, “That’s not—”
“Ralf and Lucie, sitting in a tree!” she sang back at me.
“You’re a menace!” I said, backing into the writers’ room, nearly dropping my coffee when I saw Elliot was in there. He’d been on conference calls all morning trying to salvage some dramas on theWoodstockset, so we’d not spoken much. “Hi.”
“Hi.” His face was stormy.
“Did you want to get some work done before lunch?” I asked. “I have an idea about the—”
“Actually.” He pushed his chair back. “I’m going to take an early lunch break.”
“I see.” Why was he being so off? “Well, when you’re back, I’d like to review the dialogue from the end scene. I’m not sure what the problem is but it isn’t right.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” he muttered, shoving his laptop into his bag.
