Chapter Eighteen
“What were you thinking?”
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.
“That I caused?” 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 because you couldn’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’t blab. I didn’t lie about who I was, but he seemed happy after our chat.”
“Why on earth was a PA, of all people, having a chat with Claude Melroy?” Sadie ranted on, as if I hadn’t spoken.
“We ran into him,” I said, fighting to remain calm. “It was entirely coincidental.”
“Well, whatever happened, he is spooked.” Sadie raked a hand through her hair. “Claude has set up a progress meeting for early next week – something I could really do without – and he wants a draft of the script to review beforehand. Is there something we can share?”
“Latest draft is with RJ,” I said. “It took some time for Elliot and me to agree on—”
“Are you fucking serious?” Sadie yelped. “You and Elliot can’t even see eye to eye on what to write?”
“We’re working on it.” I was utterly perplexed. Melroy had been content when I’d left him with Ralf in Nocturne.
Sadie tilted her head. “Look, kid, you’ve got chops, you really do.
But filmmaking is a game, okay? It’s a long game with many moving parts.
My job is to make sure each part moves the way it should.
” She pincered her hands and shuffled them about as if placing game pieces on a board.
“Forgive me, if I do not relish you speaking off book to someone like Claude Melroy.”
“Is there anything I can do to bring back his confidence?” I asked desperately. What was it Melroy had said, I’d had ‘neat ideas?’ How had we gone from that to this? “Make sure that script is everything RJ needs it to be.” Sadie cocked her head towards her office door. “We’re done.”
“I really am sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am.” Her parting smile was stretched, murderous.
My face aflame, and feeling like a chastised schoolgirl, I slouched out of Sadie’s office into the main foyer.
It was humiliating. Sadie’s role and indeed her career trajectory was everything I aspired to and yet I couldn’t seem to stop disappointing her.
Was I even capable of impressing her? Of reaching similar career heights to hers?
Right now, in the depths of this slump, I wasn’t sure.
All around me, RJF employees were arriving, greeting one another happily and settling into their work like they were born for it.
I was one of them yet also not. Not for the first time since I’d landed in this country, I felt this undeniable sense of alienation, like a lost ship bobbing around uncharted waters.
“Morning,” I wearily greeted Elliot as I squeezed myself through the problematic door.
“Hey,” he rumbled through a mouthful of bagel. “Heard you had an eventful night Friday.”
I took my seat and opened my laptop as if I had not a care in the world. “I had a nice time, actually, thanks for asking.” That wasn’t entirely true, but I wasn’t going to share that with Elliot.
“I warned you about Fisher,” he said.
“He didn’t do anything,” I said. “It was me Melroy had the issue with, although I can’t fathom why. How did you hear about it anyway?”
“Oh, I got sucked into a crisis call with RJ and Sadie,” he drawled. “Yeah, my mom was super happy I interrupted our Sunday lunch to discuss the potential funding crisis your little date sparked.”
“How was I supposed to know Melroy would be there?” I snapped. I’d said nothing controversial after all. “And I don’t understand any of this – he seemed happy with me when I left. Dare I say, impressed.”
“Good job Fisher was there to clear things up,” Elliot said. “Oh wait, he didn’t!”
“Please stop putting me in the middle of this thing you have with Ralf,” I said.
Elliot shrugged, his eyes shifting, and the crazy thought occurred to me that he might be jealous. But that was ludicrous.
“It feels like you are accusing him of trying to undermine Melroy’s faith in us,” I said.
“I mean, I would not put it past the guy.” Elliot snorted.
“Hang on, so what, Ralf invited our chief investor to a bar so he could parade me in front of him and make him concerned about the script?” I said with a skeptical laugh. “Why?”
“I’m just saying!” Elliot shot back. “Melroy can be skittish, he’s needy. Always worried. Ralf knows that! He must have known that the moment Melroy found out about your presence he would assume the script was in trouble. Ralf should never have exposed you to that situation.”
“I really don’t think he meant to,” I said. Although my words sounded unconvincing in the face of Elliot’s scorn. “Besides, I wasn’t with Melroy long. The cocktails Ralf bought me were so strong, I ended up leaving early.”
Elliot glanced up in alarm. “Did Ralf get you drunk?”
“No!”
Elliot half rose out of his chair. “Are you sure he—”
“Elliot!” I raised my voice. “Chill. I’m a lightweight, not used to New York measures.”
“If he did anything inappropriate, you’d tell me, right?” He sat down, but his eyes still blazed into mine with an emotion I couldn’t name.
“Of course, but he was a gentleman,” I assured him. God, I couldn’t work Elliot out. I could feel my tired brain begin to spin with confusion, so I took a deep breath, needing to change the subject. “Did we get any feedback from RJ yet?”
“He said he’d have it for us in an hour,” Elliot muttered. “So I suggest we get to work until he calls us.”
RJ had a lot of notes for us that morning. “This is good,” he declared.
“Serious?” Elliot couldn’t hide his relief.
“This is working.” RJ gestured between me and Elliot. “Whatever you have been doing is working.”
“Great.” Elliot let out a deep breath and I realized he’d been more nervous about the edits than he’d let on.
“I like what you have done with the two of them out and around the city. They just … sizzle. Let’s have more of this.”
“Well, we can certainly give that a go,” Elliot said.
“I’d like to see something before Wednesday,” RJ said.
Elliot’s eyebrows shot up. “Wed— Wednesday?”
“Yes,” RJ said calmly. “Is that a problem?”
“I guess not.” Elliot’s gaze flicked over the stack of script notes in his hand and although he didn’t say anything, his jaw clenched.
I glanced down at the notes in his grip.
All I could see were slashes and scrawls.
I tried not to let panic overwhelm me. Sure, I could tweak and make suggestions, but this?
This was a whole other level of creativity I wasn’t sure I had in me.
“Are you okay?” Elliot asked as we left RJ’s office.
“Why do you ask?” I took the stack of notes from him to flick through.
“You’re blessedly quiet,” he said. “I mean, it’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but I fully expected you to launch into a checklist plan of action the second we left his office.”
“It’s just become rather a lot more than I imagined,” I said anxiously.
I waited for Elliot to begin a lecture of I told you so, but he merely regarded me with something that might have been empathy. “We’ll find a way through,” he said.
Before I could even agree with his sentiment, Ralf tapped me on the shoulder from behind.
“Morning, sunshine!” He handed me a coffee from Have a Java. “Thought you might need this.”
“Oh, thanks.” I lifted the lid. It looked and smelled like a mocha, a drink I hated. But I didn’t want to seem rude, so I took a small sip in gratitude.
Ralf wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I hear Sadie gave you a hard time this morning, I am so sorry about that.”
“Are you though?” Elliot growled.
Ralf’s eyes widened. “Yes. Melroy has nothing to worry about and he knows it. Sadie is just super cautious, that’s all.”
I opened my mouth to say I understood, but Elliot grabbed my elbow.
“If you’re done, we need to get to work,” he said.
“I’m just checking in on Lucie here,” Ralf said.
Elliot tugged at me. “Okay, now you have checked, you can go.”
“Listen, Elliot, you might not care about her wellbeing, but I do.” Ralf tightened his grip on my shoulders.
“I’m fine, Ralf,” I said.
“Oh I know,” he said quickly. “But Friday was a lot.”
“Yeah, let’s talk about Friday.” Elliot squared his shoulders. “What the fuck, Ralf?”
“What about it?” Ralf barked. “We bumped into Claude Melroy, he asked some questions, that’s all.”
“By accident?” Elliot said.
“What exactly are you accusing me of?” Ralf demanded.
Elliot didn’t reply, he just stared at Ralf, jaw clenched.
And then I saw it, Ralf’s smirk. It was fleeting, but real.
Could Elliot be right? Could the meeting with Melroy have been deliberate?
But it didn’t make sense for Ralf to sabotage the funding for RJ’s script; after all, his professional success rode on this project too.
Ralf shook his head. “Classic Elliot with the classic bullshit.”
“Me with the bullshit? Come on. We have enough pressure without your games,” Elliot steamed on. “So whatever you’re up to? Stop.”
“Up to?” Ralf repeated with a laugh. “It’s work, pal, you should try it sometime.”
Elliot’s eyes narrowed, his fists clenching. “The fuck you say?”
“Whoa.” Ralf raised his hands defensively, but Elliot didn’t move. He stared down at Ralf, chest heaving. “Oh, you want to take me on?”