Chapter 8 #3
I motioned to my biceps, flexing them. (It was extremely unimpressive, even to me.) “I’d probably just take him out with these.”
He shook his head, growing impatient. “I’m serious, Rawlins. What’s your plan? You have a gun you know how to shoot but don’t carry with you. So what’s your plan?”
“I know self-defense.”
The second the words flew out of my mouth, I knew I would pay for them. Tate looked way too interested in my statement.
“Really?”
“Yup.” Apparently I would have to keep digging this grave if it killed me.
“What kind? Jiu-jitsu? Martial arts? Taekwondo?” His eyes were shining now. “Ninja?”
I sucked in a breath through my nose. “I took a self-defense class.”
“Where? What kind?”
I sighed, picked up a fry, and drowned it in ketchup. “It was an online class I found, okay? It was pretty good.”
“You’re joking.” He looked both incredulous and delighted at this news, which only made my chin lift higher. “Why would you voluntarily give me information like that?”
“It was a very informative class.”
“Who taught it?”
“Sensei Smith.”
His hand slowly covered his mouth while I kept on talking.
“It covered the basics. Told me right where to kick. How to get out of a tight grip. Apparently, my elbows are very powerful tools. Stop looking at me like that! It was helpful! I haven’t exactly been leaving my house much these days.”
To my relief, he sobered quickly.
He stopped pressing me. I declined his offer of a milkshake. He paid our bill, waved away my offer to pay, and got us back to the truck without incident.
When we were back on the interstate, he said, “Alright, back to your screenplay. What about a past murder? Nothing on the page, but they’re trying to solve the case?” He looked at me with such hope in his eyes that I paused and pretended to consider it.
“On-the-page grief is fine, to give some weight and relatability to the characters. Just not murder. It brings a whole different vibe.”
“Can you have blood?”
My eyes flicked up to his. “Nothing more than a nosebleed.”
A pause.
“Car chase?”
I huffed out a laugh. “They film these movies in two weeks. The production crew definitely wouldn’t have the time or the money to film a car chase. And I can’t figure out why I would need one.”
He touched his forehead, shaking his head before focusing his attention back on the road. “Well, if you don’t know the answer to that, then I can’t help you.”
I channeled my boss, remembering her speech when my company switched genres. “We’re not producing epic cinema. The world has Hollywood for that. We’re producing goodness and hope and something you can watch with your family.”
“Unless it’s lame, and then nobody will want to watch it.”
At my frustrated glower, he wiped the smile off his face and raised his hand in surrender.
“All I’m saying is, take a look at what you already have and see if adding some things you love into your plot might help you write it.
You’re not making any progress on what you’ve got so far, so maybe your plot isn’t interesting enough to you. That’s all. Don’t eat me.”
A laugh bubbled out of my throat at that.
Me: HELP. I am currently stuck in a truck with Tate Walker, who is giving me ideas for my ROMANCE screenplay.
Reese: I think that’s enough to go on right there.
Me: Trust me, it’s NOT.
Ari: She’s right. Lean into that!
Me: GUYS. FOCUS!
Reese: I thought you were in a tractor?
ME: We’re running errands today.
Reese: Romantic tractor ideas have been exploding in my head, but I’ll try to make the switch to a truck.
Reese: Shouldn’t be a problem.
Ari: This is important. Is Tate’s hat on backward?
Despite myself, my eyes flicked over to Tate, who was talking with Tom on the phone about something. His angle gave me a decent shot of his chiseled jawline and, indeed, a backward cap slung across his head.
Me: Irrelevant.
Reese: I’m sensing an enemies-to-lovers vibe… Am I close?
Me: NO. And STOP. I have ZERO inspiration at the moment. He wants me to add murder and mayhem to my plot, and Elaine would kill me.
Ari: They’re not enemies. They don’t know each other well enough for that. I’m sensing older-brother’s-best-friend vibes with a side of annoyance.
Reese: And a healthy dose of attraction.
Ari: Obviously. Hence the annoyance. She’s just a job to him, right? Until the attraction and those long hours alone together get in the way for both of them.
Reese: I JUST GOT CHILLS.
Me: STOP RIGHT NOW.
Reese: How are his forearms? Are you going to have a sexy farmer in your plot? I think that’s wise. But if you do, their forearm game has to be strong. Make it VERY clear in your script so the director knows to get a hot farmer with good arms.
Ari: Does Tate have flannel? He needs flannel!!
Me: I’m not going to have a farmer in this movie!
At least…I didn’t think so. I casually glanced back over to Tate, who was not wearing flannel, thank goodness, just a regular old t-shirt. However, Tate’s forearms seemed solid. I cleared my throat and refocused my attention on my idiot friends.
Me: Also, Ari, that movie last night was CRAP.
Ari: How could you say that? Remember the cute kittens at the end?
Me: That’s how they ended it?!
Reese: THE KITTENS! YESSS!! It brought everyone together!
Ari: Wait. You didn’t finish?!
Me: There is NO WAY you sent me that on purpose.
Ari: It was called Purrfect Lane. That’s on YOU for believing me enough to watch it.
Me: I hate you all.
Reese: I don’t hate the idea of adding something a little more intense to the plot!
Ari: Same. Maybe you could throw in a brooding police officer too.
Me: He’s pushing for that, but it would go right to his head.
Reese: YESSSSSS. DO IT!
Ari: Agreed! Let the man have his say!
The New Outline (As it currently stands, per the afternoon debating with Tate Walker over the merits of adding an element of suspense to my fluffy and delightful romantic screenplay that will still be full of hope and swoon and all things sweet.) Still needs Elaine's approval.
Plot: A twenty-something female is fleeing from an abusive ex-boyfriend.
She hides out as a children’s librarian in a little New England town with no ties to her.
She changes her name and rents a small apartment above a garage.
Her landlord is a cop in town. Early thirties, never married, haunted by something in his past. He slowly learns her story and watches out for her.
He doubles up on the locks in her place, sets up cameras, and teaches her self-defense, which she gets progressively better at as the movie goes on (shown in an ultra-cool and sexy montage scene).
Through her work at the library, she is put in charge of helping gather donations for the fall festival in town.
For some reason, he helps her. They slowly fall in love.
Her ex eventually finds her. She beats him up and saves herself with her newfound self-defense moves.
*It must be noted that Tate morally opposes this part.
For selfish reasons, he wants the cop to beat up the bad guy, but it is staying in for the principle of the idea.
If we’re spending time on a montage scene where she learns self-defense, she has to use her skills for the best payoff.
The look of aversion on his face when I told him that was just a bonus.
They declare their undying love.
The end.
Plot Twist: *cough* I don’t hate it.