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* * *
Come to his office? As if. So much happened this morning. My shower didn’t help me process any of that. Reece wants me. The same way I want him. But . . . his ex-wife. She wasn’t acting like an ex. Not that I have much experience with relationships, but she looked
at me like some dirty side-piece.
I walk out back and hop in my golf cart to head toward the offices. I let my eyes scan the beach as I drive. I can’t imagine ever taking this view or these sounds for granted. The waves are lapping at the beach gently this morning. The gulls call to each other as they frolic above the surf. It’s cool here this morning, but the breeze feels amazing as I zip along the path.
I pass the main house where Reece lives and see that all the lights are on and his golf cart is still there. I wonder if she’s there, too?
I can’t really afford to let myself get distracted or involved in their drama. I feel a pull toward Reece. We’ve become friends and now I know that we’re also both fighting an attraction. He’s become one of my favorite people. He’s smart, he’s compassionate, he’s funny and he’s got a great laugh. You know how the say there are some people you just have chemistry with? I thought that was just a saying. But now, I know it’s real. We feel good together. Not just romantically. But in every way.
I know I was holding back—I didn’t think he was interested. But I’m not sure what his reason could be. It could be my status, but he hasn’t seemed fazed by that. Maybe it’s my age. Or, because I’m a nobody in Hollywood and he only dates A-Listers. Maybe it’s because I work for him. Or maybe it’s because he’s still not over Fabienne. I want to know, but I don’t want to push it. Maybe it’s for the best that nothing happened between us. We’re at a crucial point in the screenwriting process. Next week, we are headed to LA to share our script progress with some of the other studio executives. I’m nervous and excited. I think we’ve done good work and I hope I’ve proven myself a little. But this meeting is important, if it goes really well, we could get the green light right away. That would mean we’d be moving on to casting and then production. It’s totally surreal to think that my book, my little book that was written as fiction, but is inspired by my life, is going to be a fucking movie.
I squeal as I drive. It’s been hard work. But then again, I’ve worked hard my whole life and always will. But all of this is so much more than even my wildest dreams could have conjured.
I’m on cloud nine as I park my golf cart, thinking about the book and screenplay has totally lifted my spirits. I almost skip into the office and head straight for the elevator. Just as I hit the call button, I hear familiar voices coming from around the corner. It’s Reece and Fabienne. My pulse spikes and like a bird struck by an arrow in mid-flight, my good mood comes crashing down. I brace myself for impact as they come around the corner, toward the elevator. They look so . . . right. I didn’t let myself really look at her this morning. She’s even more beautiful in person than in print or on screen. Her hair is incredible; her skin is flawless. She looks like she belongs next to Reece. I don’t feel bad about the way I look, but I know I don’t look like that. When he finally sees me, Reece stops short.
“Hey, did you get my note?” he asks. He’s looking at me intently, and I can see the worry in his eyes. It verges on desperation.
“Yes. I did.” I nod and start to move toward him. But Fabienne reaches him before I do. Her emerald green eyes livid as she watches me, daring me to step closer. Reece doesn’t seem to notice her as he searches my face. But I do. And suddenly, I’m Ana Maria again. I’m back on that playground and the thing I want most is being taken from me.
I feel hot tears prick the back of my eyes. Shame wells in my chest and forces me to look away. “Luc,” Reece starts to say. Two men join us in front of the elevator and he stops. They both greet him and Fabienne. I stand there, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
And then the elevator dings and the doors open. We all step on, I press the button for my floor and quickly move to stand across from them. I keep my eyes on the door as the elevator begins its short climb to my floor. You could cut the awkward tension in the air with a knife. I can feel Reece’s eyes on me, but I can’t look at him. Not with her there.
The elevator stops on my floor and the doors pop open right away. I step off without another glance in their direction. My heart is racing and my palms are sweating. Those thirty seconds in the elevator with them felt like torture. I take a big gulp of air as my constricted lungs ease open.
“Lucía, I’ll be in my office,” Reece calls after me. I don’t turn around. I can’t. I don’t need to see them standing together again. That image is burned into my brain.
I head to my office and turn my computer on. Dan and Todd are late, as usual, so I pull out my notes from yesterday and start responding to emails from Sol, and various blogs and news outlets asking me for interviews.
I’m about to close my inbox, when I see a new email pop up. It’s from Reece. My mouse hovers over the message as I decide whether or not to open it. I don’t want to have this conversation now. I have a lot of work to get ready for our meeting in LA.
“Hey, early bird,” Dan calls as he and Todd come bounding in, coffees in hand. That decides it for me. I’ll read it later.
Three hours later and we’ve gotten through the toughest scene in the book—the sequence of Julio’s arrest, death and their father’s deportation. I’ve been dreading today. Writing those scenes in the book had been cathartic. But today, it was like reliving a nightmare. Todd and Dan were also moved by it, but they have no clue that this is my life story. And after spending hours having to be clinical in my approach to how we constructed this part of the screenplay, I’m emotionally spent. I tell them that we should take an extra hour for lunch.
I grab my phone and walk outside. My fingers tremble as I finally let myself open the email I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. Every time I let my mind relax while we were writing, Reece’s name would pop into my head.
To:[email protected]
From [email protected]
Subject: Today
Fifty-five,
I need to talk to you . . . but something’s come up. I’m headed back to LA right now. I’ll email or call when I have the chance.
R.
* * *
My heart sinks. He’s gone back to LA. With Fabienne probably. My heart twists in my chest at the thought. I don’t know what this means. Did I misunderstand what happened in the pool? Should I call him and just ask?
I walk back to my desk and sit down. Dan is nowhere to be seen and Todd is busy typing away at his computer. He gives me a very fleeting, but assessing glance before his eyes go back to his screen. “What’s wrong, sweets? You look like you lost your puppy.”
I’m in over my head here, and I’m tempted to ask them for advice but I don’t want to gossip or talk about Reece. I bite my lip and look up at him. “Well, can I give you a scenario and see what you think?”
