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“You’ll need to fly back by Tuesday to shoot new teasers,” Billy says.
“Not a problem.” David answers for me.
I lose the smile as fast as I found it. That leaves four days. Four days to say goodbye to my girl. Four days to make her understand it’s only going to look like I’m leaving her for Kim.
“You won’t have to reshoot the finale,” Billy says. “They’ll edit what they have. The marketing department wants to go old-school who-shot-JR with Jax likeDallasdid in the eighties. That leaves us with your public reconciliation with Kimberly Kane—which they’ve agreed to let you work out with her.”
I slide damp palms over my khaki’s. “Did you at least try to negotiate that out of the contract?” My one request when Billy called last night.
“Sorry, son. Your explosive off-screen relationship is a major player in the drive for ratings.”
David swivels in his chair. “You’re not in position to negotiate. They’ve threatened to file a lawsuit for breach of your former contract if you don’t accept their new offer as written.”
“True,” Billy says. “But there’s still that other opportunity I mentioned last night.”
“What opportunity?” David makes no secret of how much he hates to be looped out.
“EdgeLine sent over a script.” Billy rustles some paper. “They bought the rights to thatElvenbook series that’s so popular. Casting starts next week. If you’re not into high fantasy, I have other scripts.”
“You know I don’t do movies.” A quick glance at the city below throws me into vertigo. I ditch David’s expensive view for the cheap seats in the back by the solid bookcase.
“That’s you holding yourself back,” Billy says. “The lead inElvenhas enough punch to launch your big-screen career.”
“That’s me being real.” Launching is harder than Billy makes it seem. I don’t need the possibility of IMAX when I have the certainty of the small screen.
“Just because your mom couldn’t transition to film doesn’t mean you can’t. You got to get over that roadblock. But it is smart to consider the risks,” he cautions. “One, you’re up against major talent. Two, you’re taking your chances onThe Packbluffing about the lawsuit if you don’t sign their new offer. They have the money and lawyers to go after you. On the upside, if you get the movie andThe Packsues, you could afford to pay them off.”
Billy doesn’t know what I’d be really risking—Mom’s spot at The Oasis.
“Let me know. I’ll back you either way. You’re a good kid, Gabe. You just need some focus.” Billy slides into wrap-it-up mode. “The network thinks the contract is a done deal. If you go that route, all that’s left is your name on a few lines.”
David arranges my contract on the edge of the desk, then steeples his fingers. “Gabe’s already holding the pen.”
I look at my empty hands.
“Call me when you get settled back in North Carolina.” Billy leaves the call.
I stand and notice a face down picture in front of the ten pristine volumes ofThe Ethics of Modern Lawlining the bookshelf at shoulder level.
Using the pointy end of a pen, David directs me to the chair, his eyes never leaving mine, except for that nanosecond slip when they shift toward the picture.
Which pushes me to do what he clearly doesn’t want—pick it up and flip it over.
Mom and Coley and I stare back from the photo that used to be in the center of our great room mantel, solving the mystery of what David drove back to Highland Park to get.
He stabs the pen at the stack of papers. “You can’t cut your only lifeline over a fifteen-minute girl you met in a hotel or a movie deal that isn’t going to happen.”
My feelings for Jess are something he doesn’t get the privilege to understand. But he’s right about the movie. That doesn’t stop me from streaming sarcasm. “Kudos on your unwavering faith in me. At least you’re consistent.”
“I’m trying to help you.” His mouth tightens.
“Why did you take the picture?” I prop it under the wordethics. Something David forgot when it comes to Mom.
He doesn’t answer, but the truth about his feelings are in the regret mucking up his eyes. “Sign the contract.” He grabs the pen from the desk. “Your only other option is to list the house and hope it sells fast.”
“No.” Coley’s voice startles me from the doorway. Her light hair is pulled back, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and the dark smudges under her eyes. She looks like a starving supermodel who hasn’t slept in a year.
Five quick strides take me to her. “What’s wrong?”
