“No. It’s a promise. But I can promise you something else.”
A corner of Arthur’s mouth pulls in. “Can you now?”
“You’re going to love it. I’m a damn good filmmaker.” My heart beats against my throat as I speak. “And once you see my movie about you, you’ll wonder why you were ever afraid of me.”
I don’t know where this confidence is coming from. I haven’t made a documentary on my own, without Max, since high school—and there were no crown princes or copyright lawyers involved. Can I even do something like this without embarrassing myself in front of Arthur, and Max, and everyone else?
Evidently, Arthur must be confused by my change in attitude, too. He’s a little breathless, his eyes flicking between my glasses and my mouth and my eyes and then down to my neck. “I’m not afraid of you, Graywood,” he murmurs.
“Yes, you are.” Is he looking at my pulse? Can he see how fast it’sgoing from the vein in my neck? “But I’m going to figure out why. And then, when I film those secrets I know you’re hiding, and I put you out there—when I make you look so damn real and relatable and imperfectly human that every team wants you—you’re going to thank me.”
There isn’t anyone else in this bar. If someone were to walk in, I wouldn’t notice. The world has collapsed into a small thimble of air, and every breath rushing in and out of my lungs burns through the oxygen faster than the last. Because Arthur’s right; I do need to take out Max if I want to stop him from stealing the company and my last name. Max doesn’t let go of a plan once he’s decided on it. Making a better documentary than him, harder hitting, better researched, more exciting—alongside a real Formula 1 celebrity? That’s my kind of revenge.
And the idea of using this summer to make another film stops the panic rising from my toes to my ankles, up my legs, up my chest. There isn’t another safety net waiting to catch me, no luxury car manufacturers like Leone jumping to help. Nobody justbecomesa documentarian when you’re born in a dime-sized Appalachian town where “good jobs” are an hour away, minimum. You have to want it more. Than anyone. You have to be hungrier and stronger and maybe a little too mean. Plus, my parents had adopted me when I was sixteen, and already used money they didn’t have to send me to film school just two years later. I can’t go back to them for more help.
If Arthur says no, it’ll take me years to fully rebuild my life without Max, prove that I’m a filmmaker in my own right, and figure out a way to fund a project… if I could even afford to stay in the city and keep working in politics.
Arthur said this was a one-in-twenty shot for him. For me, this opportunity might be one in a million.
“Please,” I whisper to him. “You help me. I help you. We tolerate each other long enough to ruin a bad movie and make a good one. Then you get to race for Leone, and I get to go back to D.C. with a great new film.”
Somehow, Arthur might be as desperate to salvage his career as I am, because he only stares at me for a few more tense moments. Then he holds out his hand, his expression unreadable. “Italy.”
“What?”
“You’ll go back to D.C., and I’ll move to Italy. That’s where Leone is based.”
I take his hand before he can change his mind, the warmth from his long tan fingers shocking my anxiety-chilled skin. “Deal. Thank you. I mean—fuck you, and thank you, and it’s going to be good. Really good.”
Arthur’s eyes glow with what might be a suppressed windchime laugh. It’s hard to tell. “If I’m doing this with you, it’s going to be the best movie anyone’s ever seen.”
Chapter Four
Arthur and I exchange personal phone numbers. I try to not think about how strange it is, texting someone whose face is sold on $120 hoodies, while we trade messages about how to pull off our scheme.If Max has already told Ignition that I’m fired, then you’ll probably need to “hire me” as your own personal videographer, I text him once I’m home, sitting among my cardboard boxes.
Why is hire me in scare quotes?
Surprised you know what a scare quote is. Do you have a better idea?
Could say you’re my new bodyguard.
Haha.
You know, most people use “lol.”
Why is lol in scare quotes?
We don’t make a lot of progress.
I’m not shocked that we don’t figure out what to do as the day turns into night and then day again—it’s weird to attempt strategizing with someone so fundamentally different from me. When Maxand I had swapped names in Intro to Film class, it had felt like fate. Max Black and Lilah Graywood. Of course. Even better, we’d actually clicked outside the classroom. Max told me what to do, and I did it. It had been a relief; I just had to do whatever he wanted me to all the time. And getting to call my family and report that I’d met my artistic soulmate and new best friend in college had felt like proof that I was going to be okay, and everything they’d given me was worth it. Their time, way too much money, the doctor’s visits and meetings with teachers and social workers. I’d found family away from home.
Arthur is not family away from home.
He stops replying in the morning. Even after I send him not one, but five different texts asking what the plan is,hello, I’m about to call a cab to take me to the practice facility where Max and Sarah will be. I have no clue what I’m walking into today, or how Arthur and I are going to pull this off.
So I call my mom.
“Lilah,” Mom answers. “I’m just getting out of a hot yoga class.”
