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"It’s true, the two of you haven’t been seen together since, but all it needs is one well-placed photo-op and—"
"She’d never agree to it."
"But you’d be open to it?"
I pick up the phone, then walk over to place it on the bench pushed up against one wall of the room. "It doesn’t matter." I begin my cooling down exercises. "I’ve hurt her enough. I’m not going to subject her to more of the media scrutiny that comes from our being seen together."
She frowns. "What happened between the two of you?"
Anger squeezes my guts. Anger at myself. That dull thud behind my breastbone, the one that hasn’t faded since the day I told her I have a fiancée, ratchets up in intensity. "That’s between her and me."
"I wish I could agree with that, but I’m afraid the flop of your last film at the box office says otherwise."
I pause, then drop down into a push up.
"And—" She hesitates.
"Go on, Giorgina, spit it out."
"The financiers of your existing project—not the Sovranos, but the rest—uh—they're thinking of pulling out."
I stay poised in plank position. "The fuck you talking about?"
"Sorry." I hear her swallow. "I know it’s not ideal news."
"Their contracts are air-tight; they can’t just pull out."
"And you and I both know, if they want to, they can find loopholes and do just that."
"I’ll sue every last one of them," I growl.
"It’s not going to make them invest the money."
I jump to my feet, grab the phone and squeeze my fingers around the device with such force the cover cracks.
"What’s that?" Giorgina's voice rises in pitch. "You okay? Did you break something?"
"Not yet, but I’m going to." I begin to pace. "I’m going to find a way to get them to honor their funding commitment. I’m—"
"And they will, on one condition."
I rotate my neck, and my joints pop. "Nope. Whatever it is, no."
"But—"
"It’s not happening, Giorgina."
"Will you, at least—"
I disconnect the phone and continue to pace. No way am I going to sit across from Solene and see the hurt and anger in her eyes, knowing I'm responsible for putting it there. I’m going to find another way to make this movie happen. I’m Declan-fucking-Beauchamp. I didn’t get this far to watch my dream go up in smoke. There are no guarantees in Hollywood. Only a fraction of movies get made here, and an even smaller fraction of them get released. And a very tiny percentage of them are hits. I bet everything I have on this movie, including her, and I’m going to find a way to get it made… Without having to go to her for help.
My phone rings again. It’s Cade. I accept the video call, and his face appears on screen. He’s unshaven, dark circles under his eyes. He’s wearing a faded sweatshirt, and by his surroundings, I gather he’s home in London.
"Any news on Knight?" I pause.
He shakes his head.
"Fuck, he’s been missing for three months." I wanted to help with the efforts to look for him, but Abby and Cade insisted I continue with the shooting. Between Sinclair, JJ and Michael, they mobilized both the law and those on the other side of the law to help with the search. They convinced me I wouldn’t be able to add anything more to the efforts. Which is the only reason I've stayed here and continued to shoot.
