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Her heartbeat had increased. “Help me how?”
“By providing the funding for your documentary.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not familiar with your name. Are you in the film industry?”
“Not exactly.” Ms. Walker had paused for a moment and then added, “Let’s just say that funding worthwhile projects is a particular hobby of mine.”
Intrigued, Aubrey had said yes. She knew nothing about Kate Walker and would definitely research her before she agreed to anything, but a small bloom of optimism had replaced her worry.
She would fly to North Carolina tomorrow morning where hopefully she would find another backer. This could be the answer to her prayers.
“Mind if an old man sits down with the prettiest girl in the room?”
Looking up at her uncle, Aubrey gave him a wry grin. “I’m not sure which of those is the bigger lie. Not by any stretch of the imagination are you old. And we both know that your daughter is most definitely the prettiest girl at the party.”
Stooping down, Syd Green planted a kiss on Aubrey’s cheek and then dropped heavily into a chair beside her. “I’ll have to disagree with you on both those counts. You look lovely tonight. And my bones are reminding me that it’s way past my bedtime.”
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I couldn’t miss my daughter’s big party, but I had a meeting that ran long.”
“You work too hard, Uncle Syd.”
“Now if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black, I don’t know what is.”
She couldn’t argue with him there. They were both workaholics. “You know we wouldn’t have it any other way.”
A sad, melancholy look darkened his face. “Perhaps.”
“Are you okay?” She touched his hand in concern. “Did something happen?”
She felt a certain responsibility to her uncle. Her aunt Jenny, Syd’s wife, had passed several years ago. The stroke had hit her at an early age, stunning everyone. Aubrey had still been in the hospital recovering when the news had come. Her mother’s youngest sister had been a vibrant and beautiful woman. Though she had survived, lingering for several years, she had been mentally incapacitated. She had died in her sleep only a couple of years ago.
Syd patted her hand. “Everything’s fine. Don’t you worry about me.”
“Then what’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?”
As quickly as the sad expression had appeared, it evaporated, but his eyes were still more solemn than she’d seen them in a while.
“I’m fine, my dear. It’s just been a long day.”
She could definitely agree that it had been a long day. She had spent hours on the phone, talking with her contacts about funding for her project. The halfhearted promises to consider the project had been almost as disheartening as the straightforward rejections. Money was tight, and some of those toes she might step on with this film were likely friends or at least acquaintances of these people. She understood that, but this story was too important not to tell.
The call from Lawrence Medford’s friend Kate Walker had been out of the blue. If a deal panned out, it would be in her opinion, a bona fide miracle.
But that was a worry for tomorrow. Refocusing, she gave her uncle a bright smile. “Do you have a new project? Can you talk about it?”
“You know me. I always have five or six simmering. Nothing that’ll knock anyone’s socks off, but still some solid works. Speaking of projects, I’m sorry yours has been put on hold. I know Lawrence Medford was going to be your biggest financier.”
“He was, but I’ll get it made.”
His brows furrowed in surprise. “You have the funding?”
Since she didn’t know if things would work out, she wasn’t ready to tell him about her conversation with Kate Walker. “I have several investors I’m talking to.”
“Why don’t you concentrate on scriptwriting for a while? Maybe sell one or two of them? Then, when the purse strings loosen up, you can go back to your project.”
“It’s an important and timely story that needs to be told now. Human trafficking is more rampant than ever. People need to know.”
