Chapter Six
“You all packed?”
I looked up from where I was kneeling over my suitcase to see Bex leaning against the doorway to my room.
Although we’d made up and said all the right words to each other, I’d been so busy prepping for New York I’d barely seen her.
I’d spent the last few days tangling with red tape to rush through a work visa from the US embassy, as well as tying as many loose ends up at Temper as I could.
It hadn’t escaped my attention, though, that there was now an undercurrent to every conversation Bex and I had.
I hated that there was distance between us before I’d even boarded the plane.
“Almost,” I said.
She nodded, fiddled with the sleeve of her jumper. “That’s good.”
I paused rolling up some socks. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah …” She finally met my gaze, properly. “Ish.”
“Ish?” I repeated.
“Ish.”
I looked at my best friend, mere feet away from me. I hadn’t even left yet, and I already missed her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I had this dream last night,” she said. “That you didn’t come back.”
“Bex.” I tilted my head. “I’m coming back.”
“Right, but, in my dream, we weren’t talking anymore,” she said, her voice thick. “And then you went to America and never came home. It was awful.”
“Just a dream, Bex,” I assured her. “I can’t stay, I don’t have the right visa for one thing.”
“It just got me thinking, is all.” She advanced into the room. “How bad it would be if we lost touch?”
I dropped the socks and stood. “We’re not going to lose touch.” I was horrified she’d even imagine such a thing. “Bex, I know I’ve hardly been the most reliable of friends recently but this is something I can promise you.”
“Good.” She took a shaky breath. “Because Dan’s mum is already driving me mad with wedding stuff and if I can’t talk to you about it then I’ll quite possibly lose my mind.”
“Oh no.” Although Dan’s mother was lovely, she was also someone who very much enjoyed being the center of attention, which was exhausting for me, so I couldn’t imagine how it was for Bex.
“She’s inviting all of her cousins,” Bex said through gritted teeth. “Did you know she has fourteen of them? I’ve never met these people, but apparently they all have to come and bring their families too!”
“You’re going to need a bigger boat,” I said solemnly.
“Oh, I know that film,” Bex said, tapping her chin. “It’s the shark one, isn’t it?”
I spluttered indignantly. “Calling Jaws ‘the shark one’ is like calling Titanic ‘the boat one.’”
Her face crumpled. “I’m going to miss you.”
Something broke inside me and I threw my arms around her. Bex. “I’ll miss you more.” Miles away in a strange country, new workplace, enduring it all without her by my side. I’d truly be alone. “My visa lasts for three months, max. I won’t be gone forever.”
Bex chuckled weepily. “Never mind me, how is Lin going to manage without you for that long?”
I pulled away to look her in the face. “She’s made it very clear I must return the second I can. At any rate, RJ has a meeting with the acquisitions head at the studio in five weeks and the script needs to be done before then.”
Bex nodded. “Five weeks. Okay.”
“Five weeks to change my life,” I echoed.
Bex snorted and flopped onto the bed. “This whole thing sounds like a movie. Is there one about an endearing orphan surviving the mean streets of New York?”
I fixed her with a stare. “Seriously?”
“Kidding.” She laughed. “Even I know about Annie.”
“Annie is an actual orphan, not a technical one like me,” I said as I focused on shoving more socks into my case.
My mother, Emma, had been just seventeen when she gave birth to me so her mum, my dearly missed Nana Kath, had raised me when Emma subsequently decided parenting wasn’t her forte.
“Anyway,” I said, “aside from the cousin invasion, how’s the wedding planning? ”
Bex rolled her eyes. “I want to elope. In fact, I’d rather put off getting married completely and get into the house first, but Dan’s mum is all kinds of scandalized about that order of things.”
“You mean, you’re going to live in sin?” I gasped, clutching imaginary pearls.
“I’d like to!” she yelped. “As much as I love a good party, weddings are money pits. I’d much rather spend what we have on the perfect house. There’s this mango wood sideboard I’ve seen at Arhaus … Oh my days. Forget a fancy dress and designer heels!”
“Well, when I’m back, count me in for dress shopping or furniture shopping.” I smiled. “Either one. Or both.”
“Concentrate on this opportunity,” Bex ordered. “Not me.”
“I will,” I said. “This is RJ. He’s, like, important. And I’m a nobody. Why does he think that I of all people can get his script into shape?”
“Because he read your report and saw how amazing you are?”
“Analyzing a script is one thing,” I said. “Editing a script is something else. I’ve not done it since uni.”
“You’ll have help though, right?” Bex asked. “His assistant or something?”
“Apparently RJ wrote the script with some help from his long-time assistant, Elliot,” I said. “Seems I’ll be working with him for the most part.”
“There you go. You’ll figure it out,” Bex assured me.
“Lin has made it very clear I’ll lose my job if I don’t live up to expectations.”
“Lin Temper can get stuffed,” Bex scoffed.
“You’ve had maybe one measly pay rise the entire time you’ve been her assistant?
Meanwhile, you send RJ a single email and he’s flying you out to New York.
” She took the T-shirt I was fiddling with and folded it neatly.
“Do you know where you will be staying?”
“RJ’s production company retains a serviced apartment,” I said. “They keep it on hand for visiting execs and things. I’m being put up there.”
“So, tell me something. RJ has a production company of his own where he makes lots of things, and he’s writing a script … Why does he need a studio to get his script made into a film?” Bex asked. “Can’t he just do it himself? He must be loaded.”
“No, I mean, he is loaded.” I’d seen RJ’s invoices for the jobs we’d secured him. More money than I’d ever dreamed of possessing. “But it’s, like, the number one rule in filmmaking, don’t self-finance.”
“Too risky?”
“Yeah,” I said. “The film he wants to make is epic. It needs a big budget and a distribution chain to get it out there. So, the script must win the studio over to get what he needs.”
“And you’re the girl to make that happen,” Bex said.
“Don’t say that.” I buried my face in my hands.
“Oi.” She pulled my hands away. “What would Nana Kath say?”
I frowned. “What help is ‘Was tha born in a barn?’ in this situation?” I’d had a habit of not closing doors as a kid and it had driven my nan mad. She’d intoned this at me so many times.
Bex swatted me. “No. Idiot. ‘There’s none so blind as them who won’t see?’” She pointed her finger right in my face. “You’ve got this. I believe in you, Lucie Clifton. Time to show the world what you can do.”
As I looked into my best friend’s eager, shining face, all I could do was nod optimistically and pray that she was right.