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“Oh, Brilliant Pictures. My friends think that calling it brilliant makes me sound arrogant.” Drew laughed.
“No, it just sounds like you have high expectations for your projects.”
“And who is the real Ivy Green? Tell me about yourself.”
Ivy wondered what version of herself she should tell him and decided to use her tried and true story that she always told when she took a general meeting. “I’m from a little town in Upstate New York where it snows one hundred inches a year. When I got into USC, I bought a one-way ticket and just never went back. What about you?”
“My story isn’t as interesting. I grew up in Malibu.”
“So, you’re a surfer.”
“Why does everyone assume that?” Drew laughed.
“You just look like you belong on a surfboard. Be honest, where do you go surfing?” Ivy said and realized she was flirting with him.
“If I did surf, it would be the Wedge in Newport.”
“Oh, not Zuma?” Ivy said playfully. Zuma Beach was the quintessential Malibu beach and the first beach that Ivy visited when she first arrived at USC. Ivy grew up watching oldGidgetsurf movies with her mom.Point Breakwith her dad. Ivy loved the water—especially Seneca Lake, where she’d grown up. Ivy’s brain went fuzzy, and she remembered how Nick had wanted to buy a boat. Ivy quickly snapped out of it as Drew asked her if she’d seen anything good so far at the festival.
“No, but I saw something horrible,” Ivy said.
“What was that?”
“The movie about the dead cowboy. I mean, I get the metaphor about the dying old white man, but to have a dead cowboy as the protagonist? Sorry, I like to be entertained.”
“That was my movie. I produced that,” he divulged. Ivy smiled.Well, it was nice meeting you,she thought. “How would you have changed it?” Drew wondered.
“I would haveSixth Sense-ed it. We shouldn’t know the cowboy is dead until the end. And I would have had some gender balance. I think you had ten cowboys and the woman who did all their cooking.”
“I wish I’d met you when we were developing it.” Drew looked at her. Then a smile of recognition washed over him. Pleased with himself. “Wait, you’re Ivy Green, the screenwriter. Charlotte Adams told me about you. You wrote that biblical screenplay that got some buzz.When Joseph Met Mary,” Drew said.
I really have to change that title,Ivy thought. “No,” she insisted.
“You didn’t write it?”
“I did. But it’s not a religious movie. It’s likeBoyhoodorThe Notebook. It’s about a romance between two kids that begins when they are playing Joseph and Mary in a Christmas pageant. We follow their love story.”
“LikeTwo for the Road,” Drew added.
“Audrey Hepburn was great in that movie,” Ivy agreed.
“Audrey Hepburn was great in everything.”
They smiled at each other. Each sensing something was happening between them, but they didn’t know what.
“Have you read it? My script?” she asked.
“No,” he admitted. “The title threw me off. But it’s in my Dropbox.”
Ivy looked at him, wondering if he would ever read her script. She doubted it. “Well, it was nice to meet you.” Ivy smiled, reaching out to shake his hand.
“Yeah, I’ve got to make the rounds.” Drew nodded.
They shook hands, and that was it. Too bad because Ivy was hoping to spend more time with him. But she realized it just wasn’t meant to be. They exchanged emails. The next two days she looked for him on the streets in Park City and on the shuttle. But she never saw him again. Ivy returned home from Sundance and found her roommate had left her. The roommate had moved out, cleaned out the fridge, and abandoned Ivy with two months of back rent that was still owed. There was no way Ivy could pay the double rent, and she wasn’t going to ask her parents for money.
So Ivy moved to a studio apartment, got a second job at Trader Joe’s, and started doubting herself. She had loved hanging out in Park City. It was cold. There was snow. And she always felt she looked great in sweaters. Maybe the dream wasn’t going to come true for her in LA. Maybe it was time to head back home to Geneva. For the first time in years, she wondered how Nick’s life had turned out. She opened her computer and searched for him. But Nick was a ghost. He had never been one to be on any social media. She was feeling truly down in the dumps, when her phone miraculously rang. It was Drew. The producer from Brilliant Pictures. He had finally read the script. He hated the title, but he liked the story. A lot.
“Is thisJoseph Met Maryromance autobiographical?” he asked.
