16. Chapter 16 #2
“Let me get this straight—you got your girlfriend to fill in for the producer we signed off on, who was in hospital with an on-set injury I wasn’t informed of.
You’re out here, making this movie smaller and more indie by the minute.
And now the producer who spent months convincing investors to back this film is telling me she doesn’t even believe in it. ”
The cast and crew glared at Ava, the bond rep glared at me, and Max kept his eyes on his shoes.
The bond rep straightened his jacket. “Ava, I’m sorry you hurt your ankle. It appears you’ll live. As far as the bond company is concerned, you’re off this picture.”
“But—” Ava stuttered. He continued on to Max.
“Max, you’ve got a great track record, but you’ve been lying to me—and you’re supposed to be dating Cat.”
Max opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t get the chance.
“The public needed to see you with Cat on the red carpet for the premiere, or we wouldn’t get the press we need for a strong opening. So, since that’s not going to happen, expect to hear from the studio before morning.” He turned his attention to me.
“And you. You’re just some tourist who got into Max’s pants, and—”
“Hey—” both Max and I spoke up at the same time, but he wasn’t finished.
“You’re not a member of the guild, so you can’t work on a production like this. Not even as a day player.” He lifted a brow at Max. “Did she even sign an NDA?”
I couldn’t help grinning. I, in fact, did not sign an NDA. And I knew people who worked at Page Six and The Hollywood Reporter.
“Effective immediately, I’m recommending your removal to the studio. The bond company will have my recommendation before I board the train. I’m going back to London where they speak the King’s English, and I can understand them.”
The crew raised their fists with shouts of “Good riddance!” and “Yer bum’s out the windea, ye blithering idjot.”
Max gathered himself and looked around at the flushed faces of the crew.
“We’re paid up on this location through the end of the week.
If they see the footage, they may decide to replace the producer instead of shutting us down.
Let’s get back to the scene, okay? Everybody back to one.
” He clapped his hands, and everyone went back to one—except Ava, who stood unmoving, giving us both massive side-eye.
She still had her walkie and headset on, so I decided to push a little harder. “You don’t even believe in the importance of the Battle of Culloden, and you’re the executive producer on a film about it?”
Her hot mic did the rest.
Ava flicked her eyes up at my question. “It’s a vanity project for people who can’t accept their loss. The Jacobites were on the wrong side of history, and everyone knows it. The whole thing is just Scottish people refusing to move on.”
Her words echoed throughout base camp. A grip dropped his gaze to the ground, rubbing the back of his neck.
Another fumbled with a light stand, his ears bright red.
Near the craft services table, two extras stood rigid, arms folded, jaws tight, their eyes fixed on Ava without a word.
A woman from Hair and Makeup looked at her friend and muttered, “My ancestors lost all their land in Sutherland in the years after Culloden. Horrible times.”
“It’s an important movie. I’ll find a way to finish it.” Max turned back to the bond rep. “I’m sure you can get a train back to London from Inverness—if you can handle driving past the many, many sheep that always seem to be underfoot. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a film to make.”
The cast and crew cheered, and the 2nd AD shouted, “You heard him! Back to one!”
We finished by 6 pm. Max looked confident, and the crew’s respect for him was obvious—made more so by how completely they’d lost all respect for the bond rep and Ava.
We met Angus and Caitlin for dinner at a cozy restaurant in Portree. We ordered drinks: Scotch neat for Angus, red wine for Caitlin, and a Skullsplitter for Max. I couldn’t decide, so I just got a Malbec.
We started out with small talk about the wedding. Flowers. Gazebo. Chair rentals. Ribbons.
Caitlin ran a finger around the rim of her glass. “The biggest concern I have, Abby, is that our guests will start arriving at the end of the week, and I think some of them still haven’t been able to find lodging.”
“Good news, then,” said Max. “Our bond rep is leaving for London, and our producer, Ava, is joining him. They had rented entire homes. I think Ava’s was a three bedroom.”
“That will be perfect for Mom and Dad and Aunt Sarah!” said Caitlin.
“Abby, if I officially hire you as a producer, you can take over the rental agreement and arrange it for them. What do you think?”
“Great,” I said, crossing them off my list. “Who else needs a place to stay?”
“Well, my college friends found a rental, and I think my high school friends did too,” Caitlin said. She took a sip of her wine. “What about you, Angus?”
Angus chuckled. “I have enough family here that I’m sure they’ll all be taken in.”
“There’s room at our place, too,” I blurted out, not realizing how our place sounded.
Caitlin tried to hide her smile. “Well, we’ve got a great start on wedding photos thanks to Abby’s quick thinking with locations. Clearly, your filmmaker eye is still brilliant. So—are we done with the wedding planning until the week of?”
“Um, no.” I tried to suppress a laugh. “Now that we actually have the MacAlister Inn, we need to do a tasting for the menu, decide on a cake…”
“Abby. You’re awesome at this. And we love you.
But this film sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime.
” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“As you know, we met at the MacAlister. We were snowed in there. We have the menu memorized, and I think we know exactly what we’d like for our wedding menu.
As for the cake, we all know Colin’s sister, Lindsay, will make us a wonderful one. ”
“Caitlin, as a director, it’s my job to be confident, decisive, and ‘sell the sizzle, not the steak.’ And despite today’s events, I’ve signed an NDA.” Max tilted his chin toward me. “Abby has not. So, I’m just going to take this opportunity to run to the men’s room.”
Max got up, put his hands gently on my shoulders, then gave a little salute as he walked toward the restroom. Caitlin and Angus looked at me expectantly.
I looked around the room, wondering if any locals knew or cared what was going on with the movie.
I’d learned from the paparazzi incident that anyone, anywhere could be interested—whether it was just a fan, someone looking for work, a crazed super-fan, or someone working for tabloids, there was a reason films needed NDAs.
I dropped my voice to a whisper. They leaned in, faces tense, as I explained what had happened on set.
Angus’s voice dropped to a whisper. “We’re talking serious money here. Where’s he planning to get that kind of cash?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. Unless… we go smaller. Dig into the personal stories. Rewrite it into something cheaper we can finish within budget. A prestige indie.”
Angus nodded slowly. “Flip it to a streaming platform. The crew keeps working. It could work.”
No one spoke.
Caitlin squinted at him. “Since when did my fiancé know anything about film distribution?”
Angus picked up his scotch. “I know a little about a lot of things.”
He said it lightly. But he didn’t quite meet her eyes.
I rapped my knuckles on the table. “That’s it. We focus on one or two characters and their experiences, maybe even only show one battle, and shoot that all really tight.” My cheeks burned, and I realized I was bouncing my knee. “God, I need to find Max.”
Caitlin reached across the table and squeezed my fingers. “Go get yer man, lass,” she said, and I looked up to see Max pushing through the door.
I rose to my feet. “We’ve figured it out. A way to save the film.”