“Yeah, that’s the thing. Netflix knows who they want.” There’s something off about her tone. Something that lets me know I won’t like what’s coming. “Not only is he their top pick, but their offer is dependent upon him accepting.”
Dread is starting to creep into my pores. I don’t like where this is headed.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Who is it?”
“I need you to know that I’m fighting it,” Pooja reassures me. “We have a meeting with the studio head this afternoon and I’m going to give them hell. But if they won’t bend—” She pauses. “I just don’t want to give up on this project, you know?”
“Pooja. Tell me who they want for director.”
But I already know. I’ve known since she uttered the word “him.”
“It’s Rocky.”
Unlike Pooja, my ex does not answer on the first ring. I’m just about to hang up when FaceTime connects us, and his bare torso fills my camera screen. He’s in an unfamiliar bed, and based on the rose-colored sheets, it’s undoubtedly a woman’s.
“Hey,” he says lazily. “What’s up, Rissa?”
“Do not call me Rissa,” I say, already losing patience. “And I think you know exactly what’s up.”
The corner of Rocky’s smirk droops and he straightens against the headboard. “Is everything okay?”
“Who is it?” a woman’s voice asks in the background.
“My ex-wife,” Rocky tells her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt while you’re with your fiancée,” I say.
Rocky’s gaze shifts guiltily to the side. I roll my eyes in exasperation, my suspicions confirmed.
“Seriously? You’re already in bed with another woman?”
“You’reengaged?” the voice in the background shrieks.
With a low growl of frustration, Rocky rises from the bed. There’s a rustle of muffled noise and then his face fills the screen again. This time, he’s leaning against a tiled bathroom wall.
“Are the kids okay?” he asks, and for a second, I almost appreciate his concern for their welfare. Maybe the vacation together was what everyone needed after all.
“The kids are fine,” I say quickly. “I’m calling about the movie.”
Rocky’s brow furrows, his expression uncomprehending. “Which movie is that?”
“Mymovie,” I say emphatically. “The one Pooja just pitched to Netflix? The one they’re insisting you direct?”
“Oh, yeah!” The confusion on Rocky’s face clears. “Peter’s Portfolio, right? And what do you meanyourmovie?”
“The Felix Files,” I correct him through gritted teeth. “Seriously, do you even read what people pitch to you before accepting?”
Rocky shrugs.
“Anyway,” I press on, “it’s mine because I was the first to sign on to it. I’m starring as the mom.”
Rocky’s face brightens. “Rissa, that’s great! Look at you, getting back in the game!”
My skin bristles at the condescending undertone of his statement. I am only “out of the game” because I’ve been taking care of his children for the past decade. Minor detail, of course.
“This is perfect,” he continues, totally oblivious to my annoyance. “We can work together again!”
“We arenotworking together,” I say emphatically. “This ismyproject and that meansyouneed to recuse yourself.”
