Marnie
The risk was obvious. Odetta Olson could never know that I was on that yacht. Carmen could never find out. She wouldn’t just fire me; she’d never stop hunting me down for so blatantly abusing her trust. Again.
I didn’t care.
When I saw Ben was on the list, I knew I had to do it. I had to add our names before printing the document. All three of them. I couldn’t do this alone.
Ben saw me first, before I was ready to face him. He squirmed through the crowd between us while never losing sight of me, his eyes wide open. He seemed terrified.
“What are you doing here?” he asked when he was close enough.
His voice was full of angst.
“What are you doing here?”
I shook my head at the server who had just approached with a tray of drinks.
Ben looked rough. Dark circles lined his eyes, and he’d missed a few spots during his morning shave. His pants were too baggy and his blazer didn’t quite fit. They were new clothes, purchased in a hurry for tonight’s festivities. This was the guy I’d always worried was too good for me.
He didn’t answer.
“I’m here to speak to Dorian Fisher,” I said casually.
The concern written all over his face only boosted my confidence.
“I’m here to tell him that ‘your’ screenplay, the one he and Odetta Olson are dying to make into a film, is not yours at all.
I’m here to expose your sorry ass. I’m here to make sure the world knows what a horrible person you are. ”
Man, it felt good to say it. At least I had that: a few fleeting seconds when I actually believed I was on top. That good would prevail over evil. That I could win.
“It’s too late, Marnie.”
There was no defiance in his tone. No sense of superiority. Just growing panic.
“It’s my work, I can prove it.”
I made a move to walk ahead, but I had no idea where I might find Dorian Fisher. Besides, part of me was enjoying this. Ben had betrayed me so deeply. The time for revenge had come at last.
“Wait,” he said, holding his hands up. “You’re going to fuck everything up.”
He took a deep breath and looked around us, but no one was paying any attention. We were the nobodies, still. Not for much longer though.
“Listen to me, okay? Dorian Fisher loves the screenplay. He’s buying it. That’s why I was invited to this. He spoke with my agent this afternoon and made an offer.” Ben paused, slightly out of breath. “It’s $500,000.”
“You’re a fucking liar.”
“He’s ready to sign the deal right here.”
He was bluffing. He had to be. This was life-changing money. This was fuck-you money.
“Fine,” I said, like I was completely unfazed by the sum. “Then I still have time to tell him that it’s not your screenplay to sell.”
Ben gripped my arm so tight I winced in pain.
“Did you not hear me? Five hundred thousand dollars! If you go tell him your little story now, he’ll get spooked. He’s going to walk away.”
“It’s not a little story. You stole my work.”
Ben glanced around again, clearly way more terrified of other people hearing us than anything I could say to him.
“I didn’t know it was your work. And all I did was get inspired by it. That’s not a crime. I rewrote so much of it that it’s barely recognizable.”
“That’s not what Carmen’s producer friend had to say.”
Kavi had been clear. Aside from the title and the author’s name, both versions were pretty much identical. At this point I was willing to believe a woman I’d never met over the man I’d shared my life with for the past three years.
“What are you talking about?” But then realization hit him. “Carmen did give you those contacts.”
His jaw hung slack.
“She did, because she trusted me. And I didn’t give them to you because I knew they’d reject your work, like everybody else has done before them.
And that’s because you’re bad, Ben. I’m sorry your parents are too nice and that they made you believe that you could do anything you put your mind to.
Your screenplays suck. I can’t tell you how much I regret all the hours I wasted reading them and then pretending you had any talent whatsoever. ”
He exhaled, like I’d punched him.
“And I’m sorry your family is so broken you think the best you can do with your life is be Carmen’s little bitch. You’re going to be stuck at that job forever and I’m walking away from Cannes with half a million dollars. Because I made this happen. You’re too scared to even dream.”
There was a commotion behind Ben, enough to distract us and for me to see Dorian Fisher in deep conversation with Constance.
“Then why don’t we go tell Dorian Fisher everything? He’s talking to my dear friend Constance over there. Let’s go say hello and see what he has to say about this. I’m sure he’d love to know all about your professional integrity, stealing files from your girlfriend’s computer.”
The look in Ben’s eyes was one of pure horror.
“You’re fucking crazy.” He quickly recovered. “Look, okay. We’ll split the money. I’ll give you 30 percent, okay? I found the agent, I’m the one who sent it out, who got the deal.”
“No.”
“What do you want?” He hissed. “Fifty-fifty?”
Never in my life did I think I would turn down $250,000, especially not for something I’d had fun doing in my spare time. But then again, there were lots of things I didn’t think would happen before today.
Ben couldn’t contain himself now.
“I’ll—tell people that you helped me write it. That you’re too shy to take any credit.”
He would have done anything to stop me; I could see it now. If I hadn’t been stuck in a confined space out at sea with all these fancy people, I might have actually been scared for my life.
“Too shy to take credit?” I let out a bitter laugh. “And I’m the crazy one?”
I wasn’t shy. The worst you could accuse me of was to have played my life on the safe side.
Of wanting health insurance and stashing money away for a rainy day.
I’d gone for the squeaky-clean guy with the good family, the stable relationship.
I’d taken the first job that fell into my lap because I was good at it.
And yes, it felt daunting to think about what I really wanted to do with my life.
Because if I did, I might have to accept that I couldn’t get it. So what if I’d tried to protect myself?
“Take the money, Marnie,” Ben said. “Stop being so fucking principled about everything. Where did that get you?”
“It got me here!”
But even as I said it, it didn’t feel true.
Ben had taken a risk. He’d brazenly gone after what he wanted.
He’d stolen and lied, yes, but that was because he’d wanted to succeed so badly that he was willing to do what it took to get it.
If I hadn’t watched him relentlessly pursue his dreams all these years, I might have never showed my work to anyone.
I might have kept it in a folder on my computer forever.
When all was said and done, Ben was still better than me.
Because his efforts had gotten him here, on the actual guest list. Unlike me.
And he was offering me a huge amount of money.
Carmen would definitely fire me as soon as she found out I’d crashed this party.
I’d be unemployed by the end of the night.
A quarter of a million dollars would last me a long while.
I could do what that producer had suggested and try to write another screenplay.
I could live a very different life. The kind of life I’d never thought might be possible.
The money would make up for everything I’d lost over the last few days: my boyfriend, my trust, everything I thought I’d been building all along. It would give me comfort, safety.
“No,” I said. “It’s my work. I’m not going to let you get away with this.”
Ben shook his head. “It’s done, Marnie. My agent’s negotiating the terms with Dorian Fisher’s people as we speak. So unless I drop dead in the next couple of hours, this is happening, whether you like it or not. And if you try to stop it, we’ll both lose everything.”
“Watch me,” I said.
I pushed through the crowd before Ben could respond.
I was going to tell Dorian Fisher everything.
I was determined, even if my attempt with Odetta Olson had failed.
That was different. She was only looking out for herself.
But Dorian Fisher was a true professional with an amazing track record and a thriving production company.
If I showed him proof that I’d written the screenplay, he’d buy it from me.
If he’d offered that much money to Ben, then surely he would offer the same to me.
A little voice inside started whispering all the ways this could crumble, but I tried to squash it.
This wasn’t the time for doubt.
But it crept in anyway.
What if Ben was right? What if I didn’t have what it takes?
And maybe he didn’t have the talent, but he had the drive.
The guts. He’d followed through. I kept walking, but my determination evaporated a little more with every step.
The women here were all beautiful and accomplished, their jewelry dazzling in the night.
I was the plain girl who wore tiny little silver hoops because they went with everything.
I made the safe choice, always, down to my earlobes.
Even Lou and Constance were a lot more successful than me. So maybe I hadn’t stolen anything, but if anyone on this yacht was a fraud, it was me.
In the end, I never reached Dorian Fisher. I never got to tell him anything. I never passed go, and I definitely didn’t collect the $500,000.
As to whether I’ll get to skip the jail part, I guess the jury’s still out on that one.