“Perfect. I’ll check back in a few days. And Rowan?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t screw this up.”
With that encouraging piece of advice, he hangs up, leaving me staring into space.
“Don’t screw this up,” I repeat to myself with a humorless laugh. “Right. Because my track record with Lizzy is so stellar.”
Tucking my phone in my pocket, I grab my keys. I need to get out and clear my head. Seeing Lizzy again has thrown me completely off-kilter. The look in her eyes when she realized I was her new neighbor... it wasn’t just anger. There was hurt there too, deep and raw, even after all these years.
As I head out, I make a mental note to swing by The Brewlater. Maybe Logan and I can work out how to approach her about this whole fake dating scheme without me getting kicked in the nuts.
But first, I need to head out to the location we’ve set up. Work has always been my refuge, the one place where I feel completely in control. And right now, with Lizzy living just across the hall and my entire career potentially hinging on convincing her to pretend to be my girlfriend, I need that sense of control more than ever.
Locking the door behind me, I can’t help glancing at Lizzy’s door. The fact that I know she’s downstairs only a few hundred feet away, it’s almost as if I can feel her presence from here—like a magnetic force pulling tightly at the center of my chest. Not to mention my dick.
Our primary filminglocation is on the outskirts of town. The twisting country roads remind me of when I used to ride my bike on these same paths as a kid, back when my biggest worry was getting home before dark.
As I pull up to the makeshift parking area, I feel a surge of pride. What was once just empty fields has now been transformed into a bustling movie set. Production trailers line one side, while crew members scurry back and forth carrying equipment, checking lights, and making last-minute adjustments to various set pieces.
“Holy shit.” I blow out a breath, killing the engine. This is really happening. My movie. My script. My vision.
My gaze flicks over to where Marcus, my lead director, is talking with the cinematographer near one of the trailers.They’re gesturing animatedly at something on a tablet, completely engrossed in conversation.
As I head in their direction, Marcus catches sight of me and waves me over.
“Rowan! Hey! Perfect timing,” he calls out, grinning behind his bushy mustache. “Come see what we’ve done with the town square setup.”
Eager to see how they’ve interpreted my script, I jog over. Marcus has been in the industry for twenty years, with three Oscar nominations under his belt. The fact that he agreed to direct my screenplay still blows my mind.
“This looks incredible,” I say. The attention to detail is impressive—from the storefront façades to the vintage-style street lamps that will feature prominently in several key scenes.
We wanted to try filming on the actual Main Street in Lakeside, but the town council said it would cause too much chaos.
Marcus examines the tablet again. “So, I’ve been thinking about what you said last week about filming some of the key scenes in the actual locations.” He pulls up a series of photos. “The producers are actually on board with the idea. They think it would give the movie that extra something special.”
My heart skips. “Seriously? They approved it?”
“Limited scenes, of course,” he clarifies. “We can’t do everything on location for budget reasons. But they’ve green-lit filming at the lake, the main town square for a few establishing shots, and the treehouse.”
“The treehouse?” My voice cracks slightly, and I have to clear my throat.
“Yeah.” Marcus scrolls to a photo I took during my scouting trip. “This place is the emotional center of your story. The producers think it would be a huge selling point for marketing, you know... ‘filmed in the actual locations that inspired the screenplay.’ That kind of thing.”
I stare at the image of the old wooden structure nestled in the branches of the oak tree in the Cades’ backyard. Where everything changed between Lizzy and I forever.
“You okay?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Mentally smacking myself upside the head, I nod. “Yeah. Just… memories, ya know?”
His eyes narrow in on me and his mustache twitches. “Actually, I do.”
I give him a grateful smile. “I just need to make sure it’s okay with the Cades’. It shouldn’t be a problem though.”
“Sounds good. I’ll just need confirmation by Friday.” He checks his watch. “They’re expecting us in the main trailer for a final pre-production meeting in fifteen minutes. But I’d like to show you something else real quick first.”
He drives us in a golf cart to another part of the set, where an entire street has been constructed. It’s not an exact replica of Lakeside’s Main Street, but it captures the essence of its small-town charm. The kind of charm that can be both comforting and claustrophobic when you’re young and dreaming of bigger things.
