Devin dumped me over the phone.
I know how that feels.
“Quinn, you damn genius.”
I scratch the clump of uncombed hair on the side of my head. “What?”
Devin’s voice has no effect on me anymore, and so when he laughs uproariously, I pull the phone away from my ear and wince. Crying nonstop has the same effect as being hungover. My body aches, my head is killing me, and I kind of want to curl into the fetal position and sleep endlessly.
“I watched the first cut you sent in last night,” he says.
I edited through my heartache and submitted the film to the scoring department last night. I didn’t think Devin would watch it all the way through until it’s scored, so his call is surprising.
“You… It’s not scored yet.” I rub my eyes again and peer down at the phone screen. It’s nearing ten in the morning.
He laughs again. “You’re right. You know me, Quinn. I don’t usually watch the film before it’s scored. Music adds so much to the storylines, but I caught the first few frames, and wow,” he sighs. “You really made quite the film about Landry Vaughn. And the two of you,” he says, a smile in his voice that sets my spine on edge. “You two add so much. The viewers will love it. And when you dump him, his career will really skyrocket.”
“What?”
“Women love heartbroken hunks. They’ll eat him up, and maybe we can milk a part two out of this thing.” He thinks aloud, humming. “MaybeThe Comeback Rideris the first one, and the second one isThe Comeback Cowboy.”
I swing my legs out of the bed and get to my feet. “I’m not… No, there’s not going to be a second movie,” I breathe, getting to my feet, pacing the room.
He continues to tell me how great my work is, but now? Idon’t care. I know it’s a good film. I know that I didn’t let those calls from Jenna affect my work. I rose above. I made a wonderful film despite it all. Who cares what Devin thinks?
“Do you know when the premiere in Sable Sky is? I’ve been asking for weeks. I want to get ready for it.”
He clicks around, and I envision him in his chinos and blue collared shirt, behind his desk, the San Francisco skyline eating up his large windows. He doesn't deserve an office like that.
“I sent the email over. And I sent another one, too. I think you’ll be pretty happy.” He wants feedback, I can tell, because Devin is always someone that needs his head patted. “Open your email now, I wanna hear your reaction.”
My laptop has been on the charger since I finished editing the other night and I don’t feel like getting it out, so instead I pull my phone away from my face and tap the mail app.
Two new emails rest at the top, both from Devin.
My eyes scan every word of the first email. I glance back at my closed bedroom door, wondering why Mabel never said a word to me about this. “The premiere is at the Sable Sky Inn?”
Devin confirms. “Yep. I think the local barbeque is catering. The equipment is overnighted and should be there tomorrow.”
I swallow against the knot in my throat, and keep scrolling until I see— “It’s in three days? Will the scoring and titles be done? That feels so soon.”
Devin laughs. “I never did understand you, Quinn.”Uh, no shit.“You’ve been wanting to know when the local premiere is, and I’m telling you.”
“It just… feels rushed.” I tread toward the window and tug the gauzy curtain back. I hadn’t noticed because I’ve been in my own head but… the inn is cleaned up. Weeds are cleared, succulents are repotted, awnings are out. The place looks quaint but beautiful.
“We gotta get your local premiere done so we can get you to the Indie Film Festival.” He pauses, and I run his words back because I’m so distracted.
“I don’t know if I’m in yet.”
“You’re in. I shared the clips you’ve been sending the last few months and they loved it. After I finished watching last night, I sent a few more clips in.The Comeback Rideris officially a selection to be entered into the Indie Film Awards.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Now, I have brunch plans but check out that second email.”
I exit the first and click the second, seeing a routing number and account number, along with a congratulatory email. “Your bonus,” he says, as my eyes land on the eight-thousand-dollar pay out.
“Thank you,” I reply as I stare at that number. Before all of this, I thought about buying something fancy for myself, as a gift, as a way of proving to myself that I make good films and don’t need a man to tell me that. But after falling for Landry, I told myself that if I got a bonus for this film, I’d help Landry’s ranch back to life.
