Chapter Three
I hit ‘send’ on our latest press release with a victorious grin.
Since working for Lin, my writing skills had improved massively and now she had me writing up all sorts of trade pieces, even drafting articles for industry publications.
I prided myself on being able to be efficient with words, effective and emotive but always to the point, and my latest work was no exception.
All it needed was Lin’s approval. All in all, today had been a good day, if tiring.
I’d sat in on some really interesting calls – ostensibly to take minutes – but being part of the creative problem-solving for one director’s budget issues had been a rush.
Lin breezed in on a cloud of Dior perfume, her expensively highlighted hair pushed back from her angular face with oversized sunglasses. “Lucie, darling, how’s the brief?”
My heart sank. Lin’s late lunch had clearly been mostly of the liquid variety. “In your inbox, just needs your eyes on it,” I said wearily.
Lin hiccupped. “Great. I’ll have a look now. Any joy with getting a meeting with Optimal Releasing?”
I nodded. “Yup. You have a meeting next Wednesday with Vanna, the head of production.”
Lin paused in her struggle to hang her trench coat on the stand next to her office door. “You serious?”
Another skill I’d mastered working here?
The art of getting meetings with all the right people.
“I’m not going to lie, it was tricky. My emails were going unanswered, and I placed so many calls they ignored.
But Vanna’s assistant, Zoe, is a massive fan of Diplo.
” Thanks to my efficient social media stalking, I knew that for a fact.
“And that matters why?” Lin slurred.
I pointed at the signed Diplo poster on our wall, a souvenir from one of our clients.
“Sammo literally just shot Diplo’s last video and has tickets for his next gig.
He was only too happy to pass them on to me and I of course let Zoe know straight away.
Cue one ecstatic assistant who suddenly managed to find a slot in her boss’s diary. ”
Lin’s eyes widened. “That’s … smart.”
I resisted the urge to say No shit. But I had a list of updates for her and a dinner date at Sergio’s to get to.
“Also, got you a pass for the CineEurope trade show in June, and I’ve sent through some suggested delegates you should try and meet with when you go.
All the major Hollywood studios will be there in force this year with a full roster of execs.
The Mandarin Oriental is fully booked but there’s space at a gorgeous boutique hotel yards away from the trade show venue.
You just need to tell me what flights you want. ”
“Great.” Lin was checking her lipstick in a compact mirror. “Can you book a table at Furnace for tonight? 8 p.m.?”
“I … can try.” The hottest restaurant in London was unlikely to have a last-minute booking on a Friday but Lin did spend an obscene amount of money there on a monthly basis, so if the right person answered the phone, it might be possible. “For how many people?”
“Two.” Lin finally stopped inspecting her face and flashed an excited smile. “I have a date.”
“Oh, with the lawyer?” Lin’s love life deserved a movie adaptation of its own.
“Vik?” She grimaced. “No. He has veneers. And he’s from Wolverhampton; there is no way I’m listening to that accent for the rest of my life.” Her eyes widened. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I said with an eye-roll. Lin often treated my being from Yorkshire as something of a disability.
“No, tonight I’m meeting Kristoff.” She breathed his name with reverence and raised a hand to start ticking off items on her fingers. “Swedish architect, Mayfair apartment, family money.”
“Sounds perfect.” Knowing Lin’s track record, she’d be on to the next prospect within a matter of days.
“He might very well be, so …” She gestured at my desk phone and started to head back to her office. “Furnace. I’ll check the brief quickly.”
As I started dialing Furnace, my mobile beeped with a text from Bex.
Just finishing getting ready for Sergio’s. LMK when you’re on your way. Cannot WAIT to see you. X
Wrapping up here, can’t wait to see you! If Lin approved the brief in a few minutes, I’d only be about a couple minutes late, which was perfectly acceptable.
After texting, I placed a call to Furnace.
Luckily Shay was working, and Shay knew Lin very well, managing to find a late cancelation at 8.
30 that Lin could have so long as they ate quickly and didn’t order the risotto.
Once that was done, I sent Lin an instant message to confirm the booking then finished up some lingering admin.
The seconds ticked by, yet Lin didn’t confirm approval for the brief.
Anxiety gnawed away at me; I couldn’t send without her explicit approval, but it wasn’t unlike Lin to get distracted on other tasks and leave me hanging.
Trouble was that my chasing her could either result in her doing what I needed to or biting my head off. I decided to risk Lin’s wrath.
As I lifted a hand to knock on her door, it suddenly flew open and Lin’s head poked out, cheeks red. “Cancel Furnace.”
“What happened?” Had she learned Kristoff was less than six foot tall? Did he have back acne? Or worse, pets?
She growled. “RJ.”
“Ah.” Ruben James aka RJ was one of Temper’s most prolific clients, based out of New York.
A celebrated director, he owned a renowned production company that not only created his increasingly successful and upscale movies but had a new division that produced TV shows and short-form content. “What’s he done now?”
“Yet another draft of this script he’s written,” Lin replied. “He wants me to read and feed back on it tonight.”
“Standard RJ.” I tried to keep the envy out of my voice.
The few occasions I got to assess scripts were truly the highlight of my job.
I loved the analysis and the research that went into crafting a response.
Homing in on what made a script commercial felt like an art form in itself.
But Lin was the one who got to read virtually all the projects that came our way.
If I ever got near a script, it was almost always to act as a glorified spellchecker.
“Why tonight?” she wailed. “It’s like he knows I have a date!”
“I could take a look?” I offered.
“What?” Lin looked up sharply. “You?”
“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 my Twin Roses project 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 my Twin Roses pitch?
“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 more work, 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 so very 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.