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I know exactly what’s about to go down and I brace myself for impact as Kelly, a producer who worked with Lucas on another movie, walks up to greet me.
“Hey, Mila, how are you?”
“I’m good, Kelly, how are you? It’s been a while,” I acknowledge her in the same friendly tone, while never taking my eyes off Lucas. He’s dressed to the nines in a well-fitted suit reminiscent of the era. His dark hair is slicked back, jaw set in a firm line, and I know he’s spending the last few seconds mentally prepping before go time.
“It has been a while. They’re keeping your boy busy.”
“As are you,” I say, lifting my tone playfully finally glancing her way.
“Sorry about that,” she offers.
“No, you’re not,” I fire back, and we share a smile.
“Guilty, but with the way he’s nailing it, I don’t foresee going over in production time.”
“Good to hear.”
“Beneficial to both of us, but it’s always good saving money,” she retorts.
“Heard about last night,” I say, wincing.
She waves her hand. “Ugh, men. They say we could never rule the world due to PMS, but they forget so easily about their constant cock fights. It’s fine. We got through it.”
“Good, good to hear. Any talk of legal ramifications?”
“Wes is trying to work that out, but he uses that one often.” As if he knows he’s being talked about, the AD looks our way. “So, if he wants his steady paycheck, then he best bend a little.”
“Do you know what was said?”
“Not the details but I’m sure it went something like…” She puts her hands up to mock fighting puppets.
“My ego is bigger than yours.”
“My ego is shinier.”
“Mine has more horsepower.”
We both burst into laughter and get strange looks from a few on set.
Kelly nudges m
y shoulder with hers. “He’s killing it. I’m calling it now…if they do a good enough job in postproduction, your husband is going to be the most in-demand actor on the planet.”
It’s all he’s ever wanted, and I can’t deny the pride that momentarily trumps the concern. “He’s earned it.”
“Well, I’m heading out. I have a martini and a hot bath calling. Sure, you want to stay for this?”
“No.”
We share a smirk, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Me neither,” I say, knowing mere weeks ago I could have come up with a hundred reasons.
“Good to see you, Mila.”
“See you, Kelly.”
Just as she leaves me, the assistant barks through the megaphone. “Rolling.”
