I sighed and reached for the tablet when my email pinged. I wasn’t surprised to see it was another script, but I was surprised that Lennon sent it through without the usual rundown of who it was written by and a general overview of what it was about. We’d worked together for so long, I could often tell if I would be interested before reading the first page just because of Lennon’s brief. Sending me something blind wasn’t unheard of, but when I texted her to ask who wrote it, and she responded that she wouldn’t answer any questions until I read it, I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
However, her mission to pique my curiosity was successful. I told myself I would read the first few pages while I finished breakfast just to humor her. I had no idea what Lennon was trying to pull, but this wasn’t the first time she’d used some sneaky tactics to try and get me to be more open-minded about my options.
I settled in with my iPad and a cup of coffee, fully expecting to blow through the lines in a couple of minutes. The next thing I knew, it was past lunchtime, and I had to get up because my ass had fallen asleep. I’d been so riveted by the words on the page, I’d lost track of time and let my whole day slip away. I went inside to use the bathroom, planning to take a shower and return the plethora of calls I’d missed while I was fully engrossed in someone else’s words, but I couldn’t stop myself from picking the tablet back up and reading the rest of the script.
The sun was setting by the time I was done. My stomach was growling, and my face was damp from tears that wouldn’t stop falling. I was exhausted and excited at the same time. My chest felt tight, and my heart felt full. I swore there wasn’t an emotion I hadn’t felt by the time I was done reading through the words that went blurry at the end because I couldn’t stop crying. It wasn’t the best writing, but I could feel the stark, stripped emotion in every single word. It was a story that was achingly relatable and a harsh reality for so many. It was about love, loss, and addiction. It was about the rise and fall of the human soul, and every sentence bled bare honesty about how hard it was to be both human and humane.
I was moved.
I was emotionally invested.
I felt the story resonate through my bones, and I could clearly imagine how impactful it would be to see every scene play out in painful detail on the big screen. The script had an independent movie vibe, but packed big-budget emotions and drama. Even if I didn’t attach myself to the project, I wanted to make sure the story was brought to life. There was a lot of darkness on those pages that needed to see the light.
I finally dragged myself to the shower and took the time to make something to eat. I answered a few urgent texts and a couple of emails while I munched my way through a salad topped with a grilled chicken breast. I felt like I needed to catch my breath and calm down. It’d been so long since I could see bits and pieces of my real self in a character; I was a little bit shaken.
Once I cleaned up the kitchen, I called Lennon. She answered right away, almost as if she’d been anticipating the call.
“Where have you been all day? Your PR team is freaking out that they haven’t been able to reach you since yesterday. They’re trying to confirm a magazine cover and interview for next month that you still haven’t signed off on.” I could hear the sound of her nails clicking on a keyboard, indicating that she was still working even though it was well past regular business hours. Truthfully, there was no such thing as normal in Hollywood, including work hours.
“I just messaged them back. I was caught up today. I’m sure you knew that since you’re the only one who left me alone today.” On average, she called me at least four to five times if we didn’t have an in-person meeting lined up. Mostly it was work-related, but sometimes it wasn’t. She knew I was reading and had left me alone for that purpose.
Lennon laughed and the clicking went quiet. “So, what did you think of the script? It was damn impressive, wasn’t it?”
She’d been in the industry long enough to know when something had legs or if it would never get off the ground. The fact she sounded so excited about this project was telling.
I made my way back out to the balcony on the back of my house and looked out at the dark sea. “Why didn’t you send any information on who wrote it?” I was still super suspicious since she was so cagey with the details.
“Because it’s their first script, and I didn’t want you to be influenced by their lack of experience. I wanted you to go in blind and make a judgment based on the story alone. It’s going to be a brilliant movie if they find the right cast. I cried when I read it, and you know I’m dead inside.” She laughed on the line and pressed, “You loved it, didn’t you?”
I blew out a breath and nodded slowly even though she couldn’t see me. “I did. I loved it so much. But I want to know who wrote it and who’s attached to it.”
Lennon hummed lightly. “I can set up a meeting with the writer and the production team if you want.”
I snorted. “I just want a name. I didn’t say I was willing to meet with anyone.”
“Either you meet the person responsible for the best script I’ve read in the past five years and make your decision then, or you pass on the project altogether. This scenario is all or nothing for you, Maren. There is no way in hell you can tell me you don’t want the female lead with everything inside of you. I won’t believe you.”
I twirled a piece of long, dark hair around my finger and kept my eyes on the dark expanse of water in front of me. The sound of the waves crashing was usually so soothing, but I still had a tingle of unease under my skin because Lennon was holding back. “I want to be involved regardless of whether I take the role or not. I’d be willing to invest if I had more information.”
Lennon made another sound. “Go to the meeting, and you’ll know everything you need to know. I really think this is more of a ‘show’ than a ‘tell’ kind of situation. I wish you would just trust me.”
“I want to.” But she was the one who tried to push me toward Salinger Dolan. She should’ve known better. There were lines we didn’t cross, and he was one of the biggest ones. “I don’t like how secretive you’re being.”
“I have nothing but your best interest at heart. Let me set up the meeting. Where would either of us be right now if we weren’t willing to take risks and venture into the unknown? You just have to take the first step.”
“Why do I feel like you’re taunting me?” We weren’t kids on the playground, and she knew how I felt about being bullied into doing something I didn’t want to do. I’d lived with Erik doing it for years, and I wasn’t about to let anyone else boss me around now that I was free.
“I’m not taunting. I’m gently nudging you in a direction you don’t want to go. At the end of the day, you know I’m here to support whatever business decisions you make, but it’s also my job to help you make the right ones. Even when you’re reluctant.” She sighed slightly, and the clicking of her fingernails on the keyboard sounded up again. “Do you want to take the meeting or not?”
“You really won’t tell me who it’s with beforehand?”
“No. But I honestly can’t believe you can’t tell who wrote it after you read it. Even before I saw the name on the title page, I felt like I was reading through someone’s diary. It’s too personal to be anything other than someone’s real thoughts and feelings in script form. Think about it, Maren.”
As much as I loved what I read, I wasn’t sure about going into a blind meeting. But I didn’t want to let my own issues with trust get between all the progress and success Lennon had ushered into my life. She’d never steered me wrong, and I wanted to believe she never would, so I was going to have to take a leap of faith and trust she wouldn’t put me in a situation I couldn’t handle. She was so passionate about this project. I knew if I didn’t agree to the meeting, I would never hear the end of it. I also knew myself well enough to know that I would be engulfed with regret if the script landed in the wrong hands and was stripped of everything that made it special just to make
it more palatable for a wider audience.
I leaned against the railing of the balcony and sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll meet the writer with the caveat that if any part of the encounter feels off or weird, I’m out of there. I’m serious, Lennon. I expect one-hundred-percent professionalism, regardless of how much experience the other side has. I will not be pressured into anything.”
The clicking turned into the sound of her hand, smacking something hard. She was clearly elated by my change of heart. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist once you read it. Let me contact their side and set something up. As of now, they’re keeping this project pretty close to the vest, so our eyes were some of the first on the finished draft of the script. I have a really good feeling about this.”
“I really wish you’d give me a name. If only for peace of mind.” I muttered, “My best friend would.”
“But your agent knows you need to make a decision based on talent and possibilities, not on letters in the alphabet arranged a certain way. I’ve got to go. I have a couple of contracts to go over still, and I promised to meet another client for drinks later. I’ll get back to you with a day and time for the meeting. I’m proud of you for being so brave.”
I didn’t feel like I was being brave. I felt like I was being reckless.
The story that lived inside that script was too good to ignore though. I could still feel the aftershocks of all the emotions it pulled out of me. It’d been a long time since I allowed myself to feel so freely. I wanted that kind of healing and catharsis for others—especially those who really needed it.
This was the kind of movie I’d wanted to make when I decided to ignore all my father’s hopes for me and chase after my dream of being an actress. This was the kind of movie that gave me solace when I was lost in loneliness when I was young. I knew my father loved me more than anyone or anything, but it was apparent that his life was not an easy one. Movies were an escape we enjoyed together. It was always fun to imagine what life would be like if we were different people. They helped me feel less like an oddball. TV and movies often depicted sad stories and showed broken homes. There were girls like me on the screen, ones who struggled to make friends and were often outcast for one reason or another. They always seemed to find their happy ending, so I hoped I would, too. Plus, I liked that most cinematic single dads eventually found their own happiness and happy ever after, which was all I ever wanted for my own father.
Unfortunately, neither one of us had managed to land the kind of love that left warm and wonderful feelings in the heart.
We hardly spoke. Even when I’d been on his television every single week and sent him enough money so he would never have to work another day in his life, he’d never fully forgiven me for leaving home without warning and choosing a career that was so risky. He told me he’d worked himself close to death so I wouldn’t have to struggle the way he had, but then I’d purposefully picked a lane that was notoriously difficult to travel. And much like Lennon, he hated my ex-husband, hadn’t been happy about the marriage, and didn’t seem at all surprised by the reasons that led to my divorce. More than once, he’d begged me to come home, and when I told him I couldn’t, he’d refused my offer to come live with me now that he was retired.
It was a relationship that was in need of some repair, but all of the relationships in my life seemed to be that way at one point or another.
I gave one last look to the ocean before going inside.
Lennon told me I should know whose story it was that moved me to the point of throwing my innate caution to the wind, but I couldn’t think of anyone who was that compassionate and destructive at the same time. Who could write such a tragic, yet hopeful, romance? I didn’t know anyone that complicated and complex. I couldn’t think of anyone who’d had everything and lost it all so recklessly.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Someone did come to mind, but there was no way Lennon would put me alone in a room with him… would she? She had to know she would lose me as a client if she tried to pull something that sneaky and underhanded with me. I loved Lennon for her friendship and everything she’d done for me.
But I hated Salinger Dolan more.
Salinger
IT WAS GOING to be a very bumpy flight.
After weeks of going round and round with Maren’s agent, we finally settled on a place to meet. It wasn’t in a bar or restaurant. Partly because I tried to avoid places that served booze and were obvious spots for the paparazzi to lurk. But mostly because everyone involved knew Maren was going to bolt the second she laid eyes on me. It didn’t matter if we picked a public or private spot for our meeting; she didn’t want to have anything to do with me, and when she found out I was the one behind the script and the production of the project she loved so much, she was going to be more than pissed off. Her agent told both me and Jeno multiple times that her job was literally on the line, and if we couldn’t convince Maren that we were sincere and that I’d majorly overhauled who I was, she was going to be fired. She promised she would make my life a living hell if I blew it. Lennon Carter was a force to be reckoned with, so I didn’t need to add her to my endless list of enemies.
After some time, Lennon came up with the idea to get me on the same private jet Maren was taking to fly home to New Mexico for a quick visit with her father. Literally, the only chance of getting the frosty brunette to hear me out would be if there was nowhere for her to go. I could admit it was a pretty shitty situation for Maren. But I was desperate. So, I was willing to overlook the fact that I was conspiring against her with her best friend. I hoped once I pleaded my case, she would be willing to overlook it as well.
It’d been years since our last dust-up, and she still detested me. There was no doubt about it, Maren Copeland could hold a grudge like no other.
It took some finesse and a whole lot of planning for me to stow away in the crowded cockpit until the private jet was at cruising altitude. The pilot and copilot often flew Maren and her team, so it was easy to tell they weren’t thrilled about playing a part in this ambush. It didn’t matter that I was just as, if not more, famous than the A-lister. Maren was still viewed as a sweetheart, as a good woman who had been through more than her fair share of hardships. I was just a punk kid who ruined something good and didn’t appreciate all the fortune that came my way. To anyone who knew Maren well, I was most definitely the villain in our story. Nevertheless, the crew must’ve feared Lennon as much as the rest of Hollywood did because they kept quiet until we were too high in the sky and too far away from the Van Nuys airport to make turning around convenient.
I left the chilly atmosphere in the cockpit, nodding slightly to a wide-eyed flight attendant as I stepped into the opulent main cabin of the plane. Other than a few crew members, Maren was alone in one of the luxurious leather seats. Her dark head was bent, and she was staring at something on her phone. She was dressed in a pair of black sweatpants that looked like they were two sizes too big for her and a tight tank top. She was wearing a pair of sneakers with neon designs on the sides rather than designer shoes that cost as much as a first-class ticket on a regular flight. She looked far from being one of the most in-demand actresses, and in no way did she look a day over twenty-one. She’d been through a lot lately, but time had been kind to her. That fresh-faced appeal that had stolen hearts the minute she appeared on screen was still there. It was no wonder she’d been discovered the instant she landed in California. That face of hers was priceless. I still liked it as much as I had back in the day.
Taking a deep breath, I made my way to the empty seat facing hers.
It took her a minute to lift her head. I saw her gaze catch on the scuffed toes of my black combat boots and slowly travel up the legs of my ripped jeans, skim over my Gucci belt, and skate over my tight black t-shirt. I was also dressed down, but it was more common for me to look like I threw my outfit together from whatever was on my bedroom floor. Those hazel eyes, more supercharged than that simple description implied, danced over t
he colorful ink that covered my arms and paused when they landed on the bright design that marked the front of my neck. She hadn’t changed much, but I looked a lot different than I had when I was sixteen. Time had taken its toll on me both physically and mentally.
Her eyes were an unusual mix of dark brown, grayish-blue, and light amber. The lighter parts of her gaze seemed to glow as her disbelief became a palpable thing between us. Then shock quickly switched to anger as our eyes locked. I’d seen that expression on her stunning face once before: when she walked in on me doing lines of cocaine with her makeup artist all those years ago. She had the same look on her face now. It said she couldn’t believe what she was seeing and felt rage when she realized the sight before her was indeed real.
Her elegant hands curled into fists, and her phone dropped to the floor of the plane unnoticed. Her shoulders tensed, and her mouth flattened into a hard, unforgiving line. A red flush crawled up her chest and flooded into her cheeks. I could tell she was practically vibrating in her seat as she stared at me.
I fought back a grin, because as cliché as it was, Maren really was one of those women who looked beautiful when she was angry. Maybe it was because she was always so composed and cool with everyone else. She’d always had an image of being docile and even-tempered, and she rarely let her emotions slip. I was one of the few people she’d ever lost her composure with, so watching her get heated was always kind of a secret thrill.
A Righteous Man Page 4