Marissa #2
I’m sitting on the front porch, waiting for him.
Since arriving home two months ago, I’ve held on to the simple luxury of being outside at sunset.
The sun is just starting to disappear over the horizon, and the sky is melting into a cascade of pinks and purples.
It’s not the same as a Poconos sunset: The dense oak trees have been replaced with narrow palm leaves, and the stars have been replaced by the tiny pinpricks of neighborhood lights.
It’s certainly not the same experience as sitting on Jesse’s front porch.
Then again, I’m not the same either.
Rocky’s car door slams and then he’s stomping up the front walkway. I take a deep breath, steadying myself for the confrontation. I’ve been steadfastly ignoring his calls and texts all afternoon. The two of us need to hash this out face-to-face.
Speaking of faces, Rocky’s is not looking its best. His forehead is creased and there are thick bags under his eyes.
He looks exhausted. I can’t imagine things have been going well at home with Rayna.
They’re still living together, but the press has already sniffed out that there’s trouble in paradise.
They’ve been following the two of them ravenously, desperate for yet another photo of their strained expressions to add to their archives.
As Rocky gets closer, I can also see the anger in his expression. His caramel skin has turned beet red, and his green eyes have gone flat and hard.
“What the fuck did you do to my movie?” he growls.
I swipe idly at the beads of condensation forming on the goblet beside me before answering. A tall glass of lemonade really does add something to the sunset.
“It sucks to be the last to know something, doesn’t it?”
Rocky’s face turns an even darker shade of eggplant and damn if I don’t revel in the satisfaction it elicits. For once, he knows what it feels like to be on the other end of this.
“Damn it, Marissa!”
He slams his palm against the porch’s white pillar, and I nearly flinch. But then I remember that any damage he inflicts will soon be someone else’s problem.
I gesture to the empty chair next to me. “You’re more than welcome to sit down and have a conversation with me like an adult,” I say. “But if you’re going to just stand there and scream, I’ll have to ask you to leave. This is my house, and when you are a guest here, you will treat me with respect.”
Rocky’s eyes go wide, and I register disbelief behind them. I have never spoken to him like this before. I watch as frustration gives way to reluctant resignation, and he slides into the vacant seat.
“Marissa,” he tries again slowly. His voice is a low growl, and I can hear the effort to keep from yelling behind it. “Would you please explain why you got me kicked off the project?”
“Well, it wasn’t my decision,” I say. “Once the author, Alix Levy, sold the rights, the new production team agreed that Lina Romano was the better choice.” I can’t help but grin as I say the name of the director Pooja wanted from the very beginning.
“They weren’t her rights to sell!” he spits. “A deal was already locked in at Netflix. And Netflix wanted me.”
“Turns out that the contracts hadn’t been signed,” I say.
“Alix was nervous about an adaptation, so her film agent negotiated short-term shopping rights instead of selling. It gave her more control, allowed her to ensure that her work got into the right hands. Someone who really understood her vision.”
I pause, giving him a meaningful look. “And once those rights expired, she decided to withdraw them from Netflix and hand them off to a different buyer. Specifically, Not-So-Little LLC Films. Pooja’s new production company.”
Some of the tension melts from his shoulders and his face relaxes into a patronizing smirk. “Pooja started a production company on her own? With what seed money?”
“Oh, I didn’t say she started it alone. She has a partner.”
“And who might that be?”
I tilt my head and smile, watching with satisfaction as the smirk melts off his face.
“You?” he sputters. “But you … you don’t have the liquid assets! How are you paying for it?” He narrows his eyes. “So help me, if I find out you’re using my alimony payments to finance this, I will sue you so fast that your head will spin.”
I put a hand on his forearm. “Calm down, Rocky. I’d hate for you to work yourself into one of your stress rashes. I know how uncomfortable they are in sensitive areas.”
Rocky’s face turns to stone.
“I’m not playing around, Rissa,” he says through gritted teeth.
“It’s Marissa,” I reply calmly, settling back into my chair. “And neither am I. You’re right: I didn’t think I had the assets either. But then I realized how much of my money was tied up in real estate. So, I sold a rather valuable piece of property.”
Rocky’s serpentine grin returns. “Aha. You sold the lake house. Smart move. I’m so glad you finally came to your senses about leaving that trash town behind.”
I return his smile with one of my own. “You know, I thought about it. My grandmother would be happy if I used her gift to support myself in whatever way I needed. But then it occurred to me that I didn’t need to sell the lake house.
I don’t need to give up anything else that matters to me.
Especially when there’s a more valuable, less beloved property that I’m all too happy to part ways with. ”
Rocky’s eyes go wide as he stares over my shoulder at the house behind me. Realization dawns on his handsome features.
“Absolutely not. I won’t allow it. Have you forgotten that both of our names are on the deed?”
“Well, they were,” I remind him. “It seems you’ve forgotten that I won sole ownership of the house as part of the property settlement. And since there are no written stipulations against selling it, I have the right to do whatever I want with it.”
I’ve been in this house for almost a decade now, and after the divorce, I hesitated to make additional changes to my children’s lives.
This house was their stability, something that wouldn’t change even when their father no longer lived there.
But now, I’ve realized that no matter how much I tried to keep things the same, we have all changed.
It’s time to let go of the past and start a new chapter together. To rebuild on my terms.
“The three of us don’t need a six-bedroom house,” I say.
“So, we’re going to downsize. I’ve already signed a lease on a smaller property not far from here, which means the kids can stay in their school district.
And I’m using the money from the sale to invest in myself.
Pooja and I are going to make projects that matter to us. Starting with this one.”
Rocky looks like someone just hitched a boot onto his precious BMW.
“You can’t do this,” he spits. “I’ll go to the press. Tell them how you stole this project out from under me.”
I purse my lips. “I suppose you could,” I say. “Although I have just hired a new publicity team that specializes in protecting women from smear campaigns. And given your well-documented history of infidelity, I don’t think I need to explain how little credibility you already have.”