Chapter Twenty-Nine Saylor
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Saylor
It was a good thing the dean had decided to screen our senior projects in the little theater in the Union.
From the looks of the crowd, word had spread that something big was up.
The number of faculty and grad students in attendance alone made that clear.
Then Dean Pullman walked onto the stage in front of the big screen to make a few announcements.
Beside me, my teammates fairly vibrated with anticipation while I remained as still as a stone.
Or maybe a cube of ice. My body was so cold a snowball wouldn’t melt in my hand.
I sensed Cash was somewhere in the back of the auditorium where the general public was allowed to sit, but I couldn’t turn around to see, or I might shatter into a thousand shards of ice.
“Welcome to the senior showcase for Film 401. This year, we’re screening sixteen shorts by our extremely talented class. Due to some unforeseen circumstances—”
Esme elbowed my side and whispered, “Unforeseen, my ass.”
I kept my eyes trained on the dean, unwilling to let anyone suspect I was involved in those “circumstances.”
“—we’ve invited the second-year grad students to weigh in on the quality of the films we’ll be critiquing today. In addition, we have some honored guests in attendance. First, I’d like to introduce Gerard Brown, CEO of Ladder Financial Group.”
Gasps of surprise rippled through the audience while I gripped my hands together and ground my back teeth.
Of course Barry’s dad would fly in from Massachusetts to save Barry’s sorry ass.
After the initial shock, the room erupted in enthusiastic applause.
Two rows in front of me, I watched Barry sit a little taller, and I swear he puffed out his chest as though ready to beat it like a caveman who’d won the latest wrestling match.
Pullman let the sound die down as Barry’s dad headed to an empty seat in the front row. Then he said, “In addition to Mr. Brown, Olivia Carter of Heart Dream Studios in Denver is joining us.”
Another ripple of surprise passed through the room—one I couldn’t help but join.
Olivia had been serious about watching my film?
Having a studio head in attendance meant while the dean had said we’d screen our movies randomly, he’d set it up somehow for my movie and Barry’s group’s movie to show on the same day.
“Without further fanfare, let’s view our first project, Mars Conquers the Third Reich.”
Every one of my project partners leaned forward and back in our row, exchanging glances from incredulity to outright hilarity.
Were these guys serious? They’d made some kind of Nazi movie in this political climate?
Barry may not have directing credit, but his grubby and awful fingerprints were all over Justin Murdoch’s senior project.
As we watched the film, pockets of snorted laughter that started in the visitor’s section of the auditorium started to make their way down to the class section.
Before the final credits on the ten-minute fiasco rolled, I could hear snickers in the faculty row, and some of the graduate students were in outright hysterics.
Whatever Barry and his group were going for—something profound judging by the indignant expressions on their faces as they glanced around the crowd after the lights came up—their film was an unqualified disaster: a muddled mess of amature AI and CGI, incoherent dialogue, and a Star Wars-esque soundtrack that beggared belief.
Stealing a glance at Barry’s dad, I noted with some satisfaction his back was as rigid as a brick wall as he stared straight ahead.
By comparison, the next three films were Oscar contenders.
As the dean had said in his intro, we had talented filmmakers in our cohort, but the unmitigated disaster of Justin Murdoch’s: (read, Barry Brown’s), film served to make those that followed it look even better.
Then the dean stepped onto the stage to introduce the next film, and my gut twisted in anticipation.
“Our next offering is This Is: Outlaw Whiskey.”
It was all I could do to sit still as the opening scene rolled across the screen, an “outlaw” whipping a bottle of Jameson from a holster strapped to his leg, expertly spinning it over the flat of his palm before grasping it and uncapping it with a flourish that included throwing the cap away, and tipping it back as the heavy strum of a guitar broke the silence.
The next ten minutes flashed by in a blur, while simultaneously, I studied every frame as it flickered on the screen.
I barely registered the audience’s laughter at the correct moments or the foot stomping that started when the band in my music video mockumentary cranked up its signature song.
A collective silence followed the end credits, and my heart dropped into my stomach.
A second later, the deafening applause of a standing ovation filled the theater.
My project partners were high-fiving and hugging, while I remained glued to my seat.
Then someone pulled me up out of my aisle seat, and the next thing I knew, I was staring into a pair of gunmetal-gray eyes a second before Cash laid a kiss on me that rendered me a rag doll in his arms. His grin when he set me back on my feet let me take my first full breath in what seemed like a lifetime.
“You are brilliant—you know that, babe? That movie is outstanding. Fuck, am I proud of you,” Cash gushed while people around us gaped.
No doubt my classmates were in shock that the star quarterback of the Wildcats was at this screening, let alone that he was kissing me.
“I have a lab final in a few minutes, so I’m glad they showed your film when they did. I’ll catch you later tonight, yeah?”
The love shining from his eyes was all I could see. In that moment, I believed we were truly in it for the long haul: that we were going to find a way to make our relationship work.
“Come over after your final,” I whispered in his ear.
One more kiss on my cheek, and he sauntered back up the aisle with half the eyes in the auditorium on him.
“You’re dating Cash Donovan?” Esme asked, her tone reverent. “Damn, girl. No wonder you didn’t want anything to do with Barry.”
Shaking my head, I hissed, “I didn’t want anything to do with him before I even met Cash,” as we sat back in our seats.
The ovation had died down, as well as some of the gasps and whispers accompanying my boyfriend’s appearance at my side.
The dean had resumed his place at the lectern at the side of the stage to announce the next film, and we mostly settled back in to watch that one and the next that made up the first section of critiques.
After the last showing, all the film students in our cohort filed up to the front to deposit our critiques in our professor’s designated tray.
When I dropped mine in, Olivia Carter materialized at my side, her smile wide and genuine. “Saylor, that short showcases all the promise you showed me during your internship last summer and then some. Do you have time to grab dinner? We have much to discuss.”
Before I could respond, a deep male voice behind me interrupted. “Miss Davis? May I have a word?”
Turning, I came face-to-face with Gerard Brown—and held my tongue.
When I didn’t respond, he added with a pointed stare over my shoulder at Olivia, “Alone.”
“You know what, Mr. Brown? I don’t think that’s a good idea, especially the part where I’m alone with you.”
Surprise flashed in his eyes but I didn’t waver.
“Multiple witnesses back my complaints, and they’re not all aspiring filmmakers you can intimidate or bribe.” I had no idea where my courage was coming from, but I didn’t back down. “Although I think Barry’s movies will make the faculty’s decision even easier.”
“I want to speak with you about financing your work.”
Shock stopped my breath in my chest for a second.
Then Olivia was standing beside me. “I’m sorry, but you’re too late.
” An undercurrent of hostility flowed between the two before Olivia said, “You tried to ruin another brilliant young woman’s nascent video career once.
You didn’t succeed then. You won’t succeed now.
Saylor’s star is already too bright for you to bury in the graveyard of your misogyny and stale ideas. If you’ll excuse us.”
Slipping her arm through my elbow as though we were contemporaries rather than intern and boss, she took one step before Gerard Brown stopped us.
“Think carefully about your choice here, Miss Davis. I’m the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company. My word carries weight—for success or failure.”
The blatant threat made my decision easy. “The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. After having to deal with your son these past two years, I have a clue what taking your money would mean for me. I’ll take my chances with someone who believes in me. Thanks anyway.”
Triumph shone in the look Olivia shot Brown before she tugged me along with her up the aisle and out the door of the auditorium.
Even though I didn’t spare Brown a backward glance, I swear I could feel the fire of his anger at not being able to bribe me singeing my back all the way out of the theater.
Though I’d texted Cash that I was going to be late getting back to my place, and that maybe we should wait to celebrate, he was sitting in his Jeep in front of my apartment when I arrived home.
With casual grace he slung his backpack over his shoulder and jogged up the sidewalk to join me. Throwing his arm across my shoulders, he walked me to my door. “Don’t keep me in suspense, rock star. How did your dinner with Olivia go?”
“She wants to distribute my film through her studio to festivals like Sundance and Aspen Shorts.” After I keyed us inside my apartment, I turned to him and gushed, “She could get me seen by so many people inside the industry, but more importantly, she can help me put my movie in front of people who’d love it.
Maybe even draw the attention of some of the bigger names in the music industry who are looking for a videographer for their live shows. ”
Catching me up in his arms, he smiled deep into my eyes. “I’m not a movie expert, but I loved yours, babe. Hands down, it was the best one screened today. Bet it’s still the best one after tomorrow’s screenings too.”
I was on such a high, I didn’t want to ruin it by telling him about Gerard Brown’s ham-handed attempt at a bribe or his veiled threats. Instead, I pulled Cash’s head down and brushed a kiss over his lips.
“How did your finals go today?”
“All good.” Then a shadow crossed his features. “Studying a new playbook for this Saturday’s game wasn’t on my finals bingo card though.”
“Yeah? We can wait to celebrate—”
He cut me off with a kiss. Against my lips, he said, “We. Are. Celebrating.” Then he started backing me in the direction of my bedroom.
By the time we’d reached the bed, we were standing naked together at the end of a trail of discarded clothes.
When he dropped to his knees and buried his face in the apex of my thighs, he made me forget all about films and studios and veiled threats and final exams and football.
The pleasure he gave me with his hands and his lips and his tongue drove all coherent thought from my head.
All I could do was let go as Cash filled my senses with his happy groans and his expert attention to my body until my knees were shaking with the effort to stay standing upright as a tsunami of desire washed through me.
Making love into the wee hours of the morning wasn’t conducive to outstanding performances in the classroom, but in the end we didn’t care. Sometimes, sleep was overrated.
The next day when the dean screened the final eight short films, everyone noted the absence of big names in attendance.
Out of habit I looked around for where Barry was sitting so I could avoid him, but he was conspicuously absent too, which made sense when the dean asked me to stay for a few minutes while everyone else filed out of the theater.
“The hearing scheduled for Thursday for your complaint has been canceled, Miss Davis,” Dean Pullman said.
My face must have betrayed my shocked outrage, because he put up his hands and hastily added, “In light of Mr. Brown’s immediate—and permanent—withdrawal from the MSC film program, it won’t be necessary. ”
“I see. Is he withdrawing from MSC in general, or only the film school?”
A small smile tugged up the corner of the dean’s mouth.
“You have quite an eye for detail, Miss Davis. It’s what made your film resonate with the audience so intensely yesterday.
” Pulling in a breath, he said, “Mr. Brown has decided to pursue his minor in finance. I don’t expect to see him in the Film building. ”
“What about your film? Do you foresee a long hiatus for that as well?” I couldn’t help it. With one more semester to go, I needed to know what to expect from the faculty after everything that had gone down at the end of this semester.
“Interesting you should mention that. It seems you made quite an impression on Olivia Carter during your internship last summer—enough that she asked for a meeting. One thing led to another, and…” He shrugged. “ Nothing is set, but she has some ideas for helping me see that project through.”
Although it pained me, I had to ask. “Your meeting with Olivia didn’t affect the decision with Barry, did it?”
“Those were two separate conversations. After the screenings last night, Barry, his father, and I mutually agreed he should give up his film aspirations. My meeting with Ms. Carter took place this morning before she flew back to Denver.” Leveling me with a look, he added, “None of this will have any bearing on your grades or your opportunities for university recognition. As you know, the entire faculty, the grad students, and your cohort determine the those.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you keeping me in the loop.” Shouldering my messenger bag higher on my shoulder, I turned to leave, but he stopped me one more time.
“For the record, Saylor, the last student who drew a standing ovation for his senior project went on to make a worldwide television phenomenon with the adaptation of a certain series of fantasy novels.” His warm smile let me relax. “In the future, we expect to see great things from you too.”
Nodding, I said, “That’s the plan.”
His quiet laughter followed me out of the auditorium.