Chapter 13
DREW
But I’m going to have to swear Maisie to secrecy.
Halfway through, when the big-boss-style monster appeared onscreen, Maisie screamed so loudly she’d give Jamie Lee Curtis a run for her money.
She spent the next ten minutes with her face smushed against my arm and watched the rest of the movie peeking out between her fingers.
If she has nightmares, Gen will kill me.
We stay through the credits along with most of the audience, hoping for a post-credit scene, and it pays off with a cryptic teaser for the movie Max is shooting now. Then the lights come up and I stand to stretch my legs while we wait for people either side of us to leave.
‘So, what’d you think?’ I ask Harlow.
‘It was amazing,’ she says, shaking her head earnestly. ‘I can’t wait for the next one.’
‘For sure, but they have to finish shooting it first,’ I reply with a wink.
‘Well, yeah,’ she replies, leaving the ‘Captain Obvious’ part unsaid. The Reid women certainly are skilled at putting me in my place.
‘Uncle Drew, I need to go to the toilet,’ says Maisie, tugging on my hand. ‘Really bad,’ she adds with a pained expression.
‘Oh, uh…’
Number one rule for uncles taking their nieces out in public: always be prepared for bathroom emergencies. And I’m not.
‘I’ll take her,’ Sophie offers. ‘Harlow, do you need the toilet?’
Harlow nods, and Sophie leaves with the girls. ‘Meet you in the foyer,’ she calls over her shoulder when she gets to the end of our row.
I give her a thumbs-up, instantly regretting it.
Who gives a thumbs-up any more, besides Tom Cruise and pilots?
I look around for Max to tell him thanks, and spot him at the front of the theatre talking to a pretty blonde.
I head down the stairs and wait a little way off, watching her bat her caterpillar lashes at him.
Eventually, he looks up and sees me.
‘Hey, man.’ Without saying goodbye to her, he comes over and she slinks away, clearly disappointed. ‘So, what did ya think?’ he asks, and for a second I think he’s asking about the blonde.
‘Oh yeah, it was cool,’ I reply, catching on. ‘Really good. And that scene where you were getting tortured – you’re like jacked.’
He laughs. ‘Yeah. I lived on plain chicken and hard-boiled eggs for six months. Three hours in the gym every day – couldn’t drink. And I was so constipated.’
‘The glamorous life of a movie star, huh?’
‘Something like that – anyway I told ’em no shirtless scenes in this one. They want me extra ripped, they can make my muscles out of latex.’
‘Right, yeah,’ I reply, because what else is there to say? The guy got paid $15 million. Somebody’s paying me that much, I’d move my bed into the gym and have my mail redirected.
‘Hey,’ he says, leaning closer and checking over his shoulder like we’re undercover or something. ‘What’s the deal with that Sophie chick?’
‘Deal?’ I ask, the hairs on my neck standing on end.
I clocked Max checking Sophie out when we met up outside, but I didn’t think anything of it – she’s a gorgeous woman, she’s gonna turn heads. But this is something else and it’s struck a nerve. And not because he called her a chick.
‘Yeah, you know,’ he continues. ‘I mean, obviously she’s got a kid but is she like married, divorced…?’
‘She’s…’
What I want to tell Max is that Sophie’s off-limits, but what claim do I have over her? And I’m not going to mention that she’s a widow – that’s her business.
Before I can respond, Max moves away and eyes me knowingly, a sly smile on his face.
‘Oh, I get it,’ he says – almost as cryptic as that post-credit scene.
‘You get what?’
‘You want her for yourself.’
‘What? No, Sophie’s a colleague – that’s all.’
He thumps me on the chest with his palm. ‘Sure thing, Drew. Look I should…’ He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. ‘The afterparty, you know? I’d invite you along, but you’ve got your niece so…’ he says with a shrug. ‘See you at the commercial shoot.’
He goes, leaving me open-mouthed and pissed off.
Max is so far off base. Sure, Sophie’s hot – tonight more than ever in that dress and with her hair like that. She’s gorgeous. But like I told Gen, she’s my colleague, which is an instant no-go – and even if she didn’t low-key hate me, she’s got real grown-up shit to deal with.
And me? I’m good with first dates and killing it at work.
It hits me that it’s been a while since Sophie took the girls to the bathroom – they’re probably waiting for me – so I hustle to the lobby. They’re huddled together by the doors, both girls talking to Sophie at once and she’s bandying replies like a pro.
‘Hey, sorry about that – got caught up talking to someone.’
Not a total lie, but if I let it slip that I was talking to Max again, Maisie would never forgive me.
‘All good,’ says Sophie, giving me a tight smile.
‘Uh, hey, I was going to grab a cab for me and Mais. We can drop you home on the way, if you like.’
‘Oh no, that’s—’
‘Please, Mum,’ Harlow interrupts. ‘Maisie and I want to talk about the movie.’
Sophie inhales, then starts to say something but stops herself, sighing instead.
‘Okay, sure.’
‘Great,’ I reply, forcing a grin. Nothing like offering someone a ride home and they act like you’ve asked them for a favour.
‘This way,’ I say, taking Maisie’s hand and leading us towards the taxi stand on Charing Cross Road.
I’m reviewing casting notes and shooting schedules for the Hargreaves campaign when a message comes through from Maisie.
Last nigt was amzing uncle draw sory I full aslepp see you son
If Maisie keeps texting under her desk like this, she’ll get into trouble. So, as much as I hate doing it, I don’t reply. I’ll text her after school and say that I was working – set an example, be a good uncle.
She was super cute on the ride home last night, practically falling asleep mid-sentence. She and Harlow were talking about the movie – mostly, ‘And what about the part when…’ then agreeing that that part was the most amazing – when Maisie yawned a big ol’ ugly yawn and crashed against my shoulder.
Harlow was sweet about it, telling her mom, ‘It is really late.’
‘For sure,’ Sophie replied. ‘Straight to bed when we get home.’
Harlow nodded, then watched out the window, and Sophie met my eye. We exchanged smiles, and that’s when I knew everything was cool between us.
Max being a dick about Sophie aside, going to the premiere together was a good move.
I go back to the shooting schedule, then check the calendar. We’ll only have Max for a few days, but he’s a pro and so is the director we’ve booked, so I’m sure it’ll be fine. Only I figured we’d be further along on scripting by now.
I could make a start, but that’s really Sophie’s wheelhouse – what if I’m overstepping? Then again, how much of a grace period is reasonable? Hargreaves is expecting to review draft scripts next week. We don’t want to miss a deadline.
‘You’re either deep in thought or constipated.’
Jane. I lean back in my chair and flash her a grin.
‘Hey, Notso. What’s going on?’
‘Seriously, I’ve got a stash of muesli bars in my desk…’
‘Not constipated, but thanks. You got something for me?’ I ask, eyeing the rolled-up sheaf of paper in her hand.
‘My contact came through,’ she replies, holding it up. ‘The original set designs.’
‘Oh, wow. Let me see.’
‘I thought we could wait till Sophie gets in, go over them together.’
‘Sure. And hey – thanks. This’ll put us ahead of schedule.’
‘Funny that,’ she says with a wink. She leaves and I snort out a soft laugh. I get the sense there’s a lot I can learn from Jane.
And this gives me an idea – a way to make sure the rest of the campaign stays on track.
Sophie stares at me, her eyes hardening and a tiny vein at her left temple pulsing.
‘Uh, yeah, no thanks,’ she says eventually, breaking eye contact. She clears her throat and starts flicking through her notebook. ‘Anything else?’ she asks.
I glance at Jane who’s grimacing, her eyes fixed on Sophie. I’ve obviously said the wrong thing, but it was a genuine offer.
‘Do you need me? I want to check in with the construction crew,’ says Jane, rising from her seat.
‘Yeah, sure. And thanks again for getting those plans.’
‘Yep, no worries,’ she replies, scurrying out of the room.
I look over at Sophie and she’s watching me expectantly.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘Is there anything else? I’ve got a lot to get on with so…’
‘Can I ask… You seem…’
Her jaw tenses, her eyebrows lifting. Is this an invitation or a challenge? I can’t tell.
‘Yes?’ she says evenly.
‘It’s just… the girls get along so well and—’
‘Harlow really likes Maisie – I do too. She’s a lovely little girl,’ she says, her tone softening.
‘But you don’t want to watch Home for the Holidays with us? I thought it’d be fun, you know – especially after last night.’
‘Look, I know I let you down by not watching it over the weekend—’
‘No, not at all – that wasn’t your fault – or Harlow’s. I just thought—’
‘Drew, I’ve got this, okay? And it’s not like I haven’t been doing any work on the scrip—’ She stops herself abruptly. ‘Oh, bugger,’ she says, looking away.
‘You’ve been working on the scripts?’
She bites her bottom lip and peers up at me through slitted eyes.
‘Not like, working working – I know you said not to, so it’s more like… thinking things through, you know.’
‘Oh, okay.’
Two thoughts land at once, both fighting for my attention:
We’re not as far behind as I thought.
But what if Sophie’s headed off in the wrong direction?
‘I’ll watch the movie tonight – but just me and Harlow, okay?’
‘Sure.’
She stands and gathers her things, giving me a tight-lipped smile as she walks past.
Seriously, what the hell is going on with her? I thought things were cool between us, that spending time together outside of work was… I don’t know… a way to bond.
And it’s not like I suggested that we Netflix and chill. I was very clear about it being the four of us.
And then something occurs to me – something Max said last night: You want her for yourself.
He was wrong, but is that what Sophie thinks? Is she keeping me at arm’s length because she’s worried I’m making a play for her? Or – worse – that I’m going to fall for her?
Because that is not happening – way too complicated.