I was excited until the last five minutes when the man decided to change the ending of my story.
Heinrich cleared his throat and reached out to tap his fingers on the table in an agitated way. We’d gathered for brunch, but all he’d had was his fair share of bottomless mimosas. He didn’t really seem drunk, but it was bold to tell the person who wrote the script, who was finding the funding for all parts of the movie, and who was the star, that the ending sucked. From one creative to another, it was a harsh critique.
“The reason I want to direct this movie is because it runs the gamut of emotions. Everything is there: pain, hope, desperation, love, longing. Joy and sorrow go hand in hand. I think it’s missing a bit of heartbreak. Our main character hits rock bottom, pulls himself out of it, and falls in love. The happy ending doesn’t sit right. It doesn’t feel authentic. Guys like that, they shouldn’t get to live a ‘happy ever after.’ They need to suffer for their sins. I want an ending that audiences can feel all the way to their soul. I want them upset when they leave the theater. I want an ending that will go viral and keep people talking long after the credits roll. If we go with the ending, we have no hook; all the audience will be left with is butterflies in their bellies and stupid smiles on their faces. Those happy feelings will fade, but if we crush some hearts, no one will forget.”
He looked so satisfied with himself, I wondered if he had any clue that the character was essentially me. He was essentially telling me that because I’d screwed up so bad and hurt so many people, that I didn’t deserve to fall in love and live a happy life. He was pretty much insinuating I should suffer for those perceived sins.
“And the woman. She forgives so easily. She is so kind. She’s old enough to know better, yet she lets this guy back into her life and heart and sees zero consequences for making such a stupid choice.” Heinrich’s fingers tapped even more furiously on the table. Maren turned her hand over underneath mine and laced our fingers together. I knew she was just trying to keep me from losing my temper, but I appreciated the gesture.
After the night and early morning we spent together, she’d done her best to draw a very clear and defined line between us. No matter how I persisted or teased her in the weeks following our hook up, she was hell-bent on defining our night as a one-night stand. She reiterated that it was never going to happen again. But every so often, I’d catch her looking at me with something that read a lot like longing and hunger. She repeated that we were friends and colleagues when anyone asked, but the rumor that we were more was still circulating. It was hard to ignore the chemistry and innate intimacy that was visible between us whenever we ended up in a sneaky paparazzi photo together. On my end, I refused to comment on the situation either way, which only added to the speculation. It would be really easy to parrot that we were just friends, but I hadn’t given up hope we could be more. It felt like I spent more time fielding questions about my personal life than I did about the resurrection of my career and the new movie these days.
At least they’d stopped focusing on my troubled past.
However, it was absolutely my pleasure to remind Maren that I knew what she looked like when she came, and I knew what my name on her lips sounded like when I was buried deep inside of her. That made us something more than friends.
I knew she would freak out and get really upset with me if I scared the temperamental, genius director off, so I bit my tongue and dipped my chin to acknowledge I was listening to him. The bacon and eggs I ate earlier were sitting like lead in my stomach, and I really wished I could chug back a too-sweet mimosa or two.
Maren squeezed my fingers and shifted next to me. She hadn’t reached for the flute of champagne in front of her, either out of sympathy for me or because she wanted to keep a clear head while having such a serious discussion. I wanted to tell her it was fine for her to drink, that she didn’t have to baby me, but I didn’t get the chance. The director dropped the bomb about changing the script almost as soon as we sat down.
“What kind of changes do you want to make, exactly? The character arcs are so dramatic and heavy as it is. I don’t know that we can justify throwing more at the audience.” Her hazel eyes flicked in my direction. I knew she was worried about how I was taking the feedback since every word of that script hit so close to home. “And I don’t think the female lead is stupid. I think she’s hopeful. She’s seen the worst of the male lead, yet still believes he can change and be a better man. A lot of women will relate to her, letting him back into her life. They’re more than a back-and-forth romance. There is something about them that feels destined.”
The director snorted and stopped tapping long enough to reach for his glass. He was looking at Maren like she was naïve and foolish. Which was honestly how I used to see her. Now, her words touched me in a way I couldn’t put into words, and I realized how strong and admirable she was for still being able to see the good in people. It was hard to keep calling the way I felt about her a crush. That seemed so superficial.
Love, on the other hand… that took root and settled deep. It was much harder to shake loose and break free from love. Love made more sense. Love would explain why I couldn’t forget her and why I found any excuse to be with her as soon as I started to heal.
Love was terrifying and could send me spiraling into a dangerous pit of despair if I was the only one feeling it. It was so scary, I couldn’t say the word aloud or give the idea much room to grow inside my heart.
“I strongly feel that we should kill her.” There was no holding back the sounds of surprise that both Maren and I made. “That’s the kind of twist no one will see coming. Everyone will anticipate the addict relapsing and ruining the relationship or overdosing. If we tweak the ending so our main couple has a moment of reckoning, if we give them a glimpse of love and happiness, then rip it away... that is an ending with teeth. That balances the karmic scales.”
Maren gasped and put a hand to her chest as if his scenario would actually bring about the end of her life. It was my turn to give her fingers a reassuring squeeze as the director and I stared at each other, unblinking, for a long moment.
“I know it is a big change, but I really want you to consider it.” Heinrich reached for a glass of water on the table and lifted his eyebrows as he shifted his gaze between me and Maren. “I wondered if the rumors of the two of you being involved were true or not. I can tell by both of your reactions that there is at least a smidge of truth to them. Real-life couples can have great chemistry on set. Or they can fall totally flat. Seeing how horrified you both look at even the mere thought of one of you dying, I’m even more convinced this is the way to go for the most emotional impact. I don’t want to say it’s a deal-breaker, but it is a deal-breaker. I have to have full creative control in order to bring my vision to life.”
Maren tried to twist her hand free under the table, but I refused to let it go. Instead, I sighed and returned to slumping in my seat. “Can I think about it? I’m a good actor, but I can honestly say, I don’t know if I have the range to pull off the kind of devastation that would hit if something bad happened to the woman I loved. I have firsthand experience of everything else in the script. I know how it feels to lose control of your life and get swallowed up by addiction. I know the disappointment that comes with failed attempts to get clean. I know what unrequited infatuation feels like. I know how hard it can be to hold on to hope when the world has given up on you. But I’ve never loved someone the way this character has. And I’ve never lost anyone who meant the world to me. If I screw it up, that ruins the entire movie, and you’ll get your hashtags and viral moment for the wrong reasons.”
The eccentric director chuckled and waved his hand around in the air. “I like your honesty, young man. That’s one of the reasons I was interested in this script. I’m also a fan of Ms. Copeland.” He grinned at the woman sitting next to me. “I’ve always wondered what you could do with a script you could really sink your teeth into. I think you’re both interesting, separately and tog
ether. Maybe you’ll figure out how to make fake love look real, or you can make real love look so glorious and painful, no one is going to want to experience that in their lifetime.” He put down the glass and got to his feet. He did a weird little bow thing and excused himself, saying he had to get to a birthday party for his daughter.
He stumbled a little as he walked away, the mimosas obviously having kicked in. I told Maren I was going to make sure he didn’t drive in that condition, but she used our linked hands to tug me back into my seat. She told me that she’d already texted Arrow to arrange a car service for him, and once again, I was impressed by her efficiency and handling of a situation.
She finally wiggled her fingers free and reached for a strawberry on the plate in front of her. She cleared her throat lightly and cast a look my way out of the corner of her eye. “He’s not the only director in town, far from it. Heinrich wasn’t even someone we talked about when you gave me your list of dream directors. You don’t have to change your script if you aren’t comfortable with it, Salinger.” She stretched out a hand like she was going to touch my cheek but stopped right before she made contact. Her eyes widened, and she blushed a little, so I couldn’t resist the urge to snatch her fingers out of the air and bring her hand to my lips so I could kiss the back of it.
“Never in a million years would I think that you’d end up being my best cheerleader.” It didn’t seem possible when I was chasing her around and begging for her forgiveness. “I like it. Having you on my side is much more enjoyable than having you as an enemy.” Though, I had heard a hate fuck was something one couldn’t forget, so I did have a twinge of regret that I hadn’t tried to seduce her when she still loathed me.
She pulled her hand free and looked away. It was cute when she got flustered and shy. I especially liked it because she hadn’t been like that in bed at all. She was demanding, vocal, and super responsive. She didn’t hesitate to tell me what she wanted or ask for more when I got something super right. She really had to be out of her mind if she thought once was going to cut it for me. I felt like I would never be satisfied or get enough of her, and I had a feeling she was the same, only deep in denial. She’d disliked me for so long; it seemed like she might be having a hard time coming to terms with the fact she wanted to sleep with the enemy.
“Heinrich is a mastermind, but I fell in love with your story the way it was. People can be touched by a good romance as much as they are moved by a tragedy. Romance gets a bad rap, in my opinion. Love stories are just as important as any other kind. As long as you tap into the heart of the emotion, you can get a reaction and bring people together. I can see either ending having an impact. But if we put the film in Heinrich’s hands, I worry that we’re moving too far away from the story you want to tell. The one that helped you get clean and focus on all the good things you have in your life.” She gave me a look of concern. “What if making a movie about all the ways things could’ve gone wrong, instead of the way they could go right, undoes all the progress you’ve made?”
I chuckled and leaned toward her. I expected her to move away, but she didn’t, and my lips ended up really close to her cheek. “Thank you for caring about what happens to me, but I can’t live the rest of my life worrying that every difficult situation is going to send me back down into the gutter. I do want to take some time to think about Heinrich’s suggestion, but I went into this knowing I wanted to make the best movie possible no matter what.” I pulled away before I gave in to the temptation to kiss her while we were in public. I was brave, but not that brave. She’d rip my balls off if I did something like that. “You’re just as invested in this project as I am. If you think it’s a terrible idea, I will take your input into consideration.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket with an alert that the new security measures I wanted had been installed. Jeno’s mom tried to come by the house again a couple days ago and was furious she wasn’t allowed past the first gate. Jeno got an earful and was immediately guilt-tripped into spending a few days at home to appease his mom. While he was away, I made sure my house had zero blind spots in case anyone else paid a visit when I wasn’t around. I did feel bad about keeping the new cameras and motion detectors from my brother, but I really didn’t want to put him in the middle of the war between his mother and me.
“I want what’s best for the movie and for you. Is that asking too much?” She frowned a little bit. This time I couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and rub away the furrow between her delicately arched brows.
“What’s best for me is if you quit playing hard to get. How long are you going to make me chase after you? Isn’t ten years long enough?” I was only teasing, but something flickered in her kaleidoscope eyes that gave me pause. It was almost as if she was considering what would happen if she let me catch her.
Maren huffed a little bit and rubbed her hands up and down her thighs. “You were running a race I was unaware of while I was climbing back up a mountain. Maybe we both just need a break.”
I cocked my head to one side and narrowed my eyes at her slightly. “That’s not fair. You reached the top, and I’m still running and climbing. Eventually, I’m going to hit a wall and end up too tired to do anything more than catch my breath.” She did have the ability to leave me breathless without much effort.
I jolted when her fingers suddenly threaded through my hair, pushing the spikey strands backward. I blinked at her in surprise and felt my heart start to race erratically when she smiled at me ever so slightly. She looked her very best when she let herself remember she was allowed to be happy.
“I don’t want anything serious, Salinger, but I do want you. I am dangerously attracted to you. I definitely struggle to keep things professional, and I vividly remember everything we did the other night. I’m not playing games with you or trying to lead you on. I’m not plotting some elaborate revenge for what happened in the past. I don’t want anything to screw up this project. And I don’t want to hurt you because we aren’t looking for the same thing. Neither one of us needs to navigate heartache or all the ups and downs of a relationship right now.”
I straightened my head and turned her words over in my mind for a minute. It seemed like those lines she laid down between us could be blurred after all.
I grinned at her and leaned close enough that my lips touched the curve of her ear. I felt her shudder when I whispered, “Let’s be friends with benefits, then. We’re going to be on top of each other anyway once we start filming, and then through all the press and hype leading up to the release. Might as well make it literal. We can take turns. You will be on top one day, and I’ll be on top the next.” I flicked the tip of my tongue against that delicate shell but immediately let out a grunt as the back of her hand smacked against my stomach.
I heard her exhale and waited for her to tell me to go to hell. I wasn’t at all prepared for her to meet my gaze and say in a quiet voice that only I could hear, “I like both parts of that. Being friends and the benefits. But I worry about how it would affect our work.”
I swore louder than I meant to, and once again had heads in the exclusive dining room turn to look at me with censure. I could care less about how sleeping together affected us working together. She said she wanted what was best for me and to make the best movie; if I had to pick between the two, I would tell her that being with her was going to help me heal the most.
“I already signed one crazy contract. Write up another one. Put your concerns in writing. I’ll sign it.” I didn’t care what it said.
She scoffed, but the sound died away when she saw just how serious I was. “Are you being real right now?”
I nodded. “I am.”
Love was frightening. I didn’t know anything about making the fake kind look believable, but I was willing to learn all I could to put on the performance of a lifetime. But only from Maren. I was clueless about real-life love, even though I was pretty sure the seed of it had been planted inside my teenage heart the first time Maren told me to stop sc
rewing up my life. Even if she did end up hurting me, it was a pain I would welcome with open arms.
Maren
I’D LEARNED A lot about Salinger since we started our unconventional friends-with-benefits relationship.
I had yet to hand over a contract like he insisted because every time I sat down to put into words what was and wasn’t acceptable, it made me feel shallow and cold. I could also hear my father somewhere in the back of my head admonishing me for turning something as simple as a fling with a Hollywood heartthrob into a business arrangement just because I was overly worried about getting hurt and humiliated again. To his credit, Salinger frequently chimed in and reminded me he was more than willing to play by my rules, which made me feel even worse. I felt like I was making him conform to my whims without being willing to give the same consideration in return. Slowly but surely, I’d loosened the tight rein I had over my every reaction and response to him, so now things were a little more informal and natural between the two of us when we got together and hooked up. I felt less like I needed him to leave before dawn, and less like I was doing something wrong every time I ended up in bed with him.
And now that he was at my place once or twice a week, I was seeing parts of him that I would never know unless we were entwined in each other’s lives as tightly as we were.
Like the fact that he didn’t sleep… like at all.
I had no clue how he managed to function and get through his very busy days on the one or two hours of shut-eye he caught each night. He explained that insomnia was a byproduct of getting clean and having a lot of regret from his previous actions. He was too scared to take sleeping pills since he was prone to addiction and nothing over the counter seemed to work. As a result, he worked… a lot. I always thought I was diligent and motivated, but I had nothing on Salinger. He always had something brewing, and it seemed like his mind never took a moment to rest. It was even in the middle of the night when he quietly told me he decided to let Henrich adjust the ending of the script. It was something he’d been struggling with for a while, and it was obvious he was torn over which direction to go. I was falling asleep because it was late, and because having sex with him normally left me wrung out and exhausted in all the right ways, but he sounded certain and wide awake. I asked what brought about the change, and he simply said he couldn’t really explain it, but he was okay with a sad ending when it was fictional as long as he didn’t have to face the same thing in reality. I was too sleepy to give his reasoning the attention it required, but I was getting used to the fact that his idea of business hours was nonexistent. He would be a good fit if he ever ended up working with Lennon. She broke the news that she was considering him as a client, and instead of feeling territorial over my agent and friend like I assumed I would, I was actually excited for him to get someone to help him manage his crazy workload.
A Righteous Man Page 15