“It’s okay. You wanna watch?”
The phone rings, Neil answers and with an eye roll, hands it to me. “It’s Tom,” he whispers.
I sigh heavily. “Hey again, what’s up?”
“Just wanted to get an ETA on when you’re coming. I may walk over to Starbucks.”
“I’ll just come after lunch,” I say.
“Well, why don’t we combine, we can eat and you can watch me jam.”
For some reason, Knit Cap calls editing “jamming.”
“I’ve actually got plans, so I’ll just come by after 2:00. Okay?”
“I guess you need more time with your boyfriend in there. Don’t blame me if Will doesn’t like the cut Monday. I’ve been waiting for you all day.”
“Tom, I just looked at your cut yesterday, what else do you have to show me?” I make a face to Neil, and he makes the same face in return.
“Well, now that’s a loaded question. If I answered it, my wife would say I was crossing a line.”
“Well then, don’t answer it.” Please don’t answer it.
“Oh, Abs, don’t be hatin’. If we were lovers, you’d come in here and we’d kiss and make up. Ha, okay I’ll stop playin’ with you now, see you after lunch.”
Blech. “He is repulsive,” I say as I hang up the phone.
“Yeah, you want me to talk to him?”
“No, no I can handle it. Thanks though.”
“He’s like that with all the pretty chicks in the office. I feel sorry for his wife,” Neil says, turning back to his keyboard. Neil’s cell phone rings. He looks at me guiltily and answers.
“All right, one call, I’ll give ya a freebie.” Jesus, he gets more calls than anyone I’ve ever met.
Neil chats for a minute and then hangs up. As we start to watch the cold open, the cell rings again.
“Don’t you dare answer that!”
“I swear it only rings when you’re in here.”
“Right. Okay, you’re staying fifteen minutes later tonight,” I joke.
“Come on now.” He answers his phone, tells the person that he’ll call back then puts the phone on vibrate and sticks it in his pocket.
“I saw that,” I say, smiling.
“Mussolini.”
“Big Baby.”
“Let’s watch. Mussolini,” he whispers.
I laugh and put my feet on his desk.
I spend the next twenty minutes working on the cold open with Big Baby and then head back to my desk. I leave Knit Cap a voice mail (thank God he didn’t answer) saying I’ll have to watch it Monday morning. I just can’t deal with him now after he skeeved me out so much.
I’m slightly hungry but it’s only noon and if I eat now the day will drag. So I check my email and find that Andrea, an old friend, has written me.
Abbies,
Hi! How the hell are you? It’s been too long.
So…have you seen any movies lately? Subtle, huh? Need full details. Matt is a total dick. We NEED to have drinks soon. When are you free? Call me call me call me!
Andies
Okay. Will reply to that one later. She’ll be sorry to learn that I won’t be contributing any money to Matt’s box office. I have no desire to see that movie.
I head into the break room to get my lunch from the fridge and say hello to one of the accountants as she grabs a diet soda from the vending machine. I hit four minutes on the microwave and lean against the counter.
“Are you doing anything fun this weekend, Abby?” she asks.
“Not really. Just hanging out. You?”
“Well tonight my boyfriend is taking me to see It’s Not Me, It’s You. It’s supposed to be really good.”
“Yeah, I uh, heard that. Well have a good weekend.”
“Thanks. You too.”
Now this is surprising. I feel nothing. It doesn’t even faze me. I am so over this. Let Matt have his little movie.
I sit down at my desk and push my food aside to let it cool down. Might as well call Stephanie and tell her I’m completely over the whole Matt movie thing.
“Hey, how are ya?” I say as I take a bite.
“Fine, I’m watching daytime TV. How’s it there?”
“Same. So, uh, what are you doing tomorrow? Wanna see a movie?”
So much for being over it.
I arrive at the theater in Woodland Hills ten minutes early, which was really stupid since Stephanie is always ten minutes late. After buying both of our tickets along with a giant bag of peanut M&M’s, I decide to wait outside the theater. I know I could have brought Zoë with me, but she would have taken it as a sign that I’m still not over Matt. She then would have tied it into some theory as to why I’m not dating anyone. And then I would have to kill her. I also could have taken Nancy, but she would have put some sort of positive spin on it, and then I would have to kill her too. I think Stephanie was the perfect choice. I can vent all I want, and not only will she listen, she’ll probably agree and tell me he’s just a talentless hack.
“Hey,” Stephanie calls out to me from across the parking lot. “Could you have picked a more remote location?” She has an Egg McMuffin in one hand and a coffee the size of a Big Gulp in the other.
“Sorry it was such a hike,” I say as she gets closer. Her hair is in a bun, no makeup, and she’s wearing an old pair of sweat pants. The girl still looks gorgeous.
“I can’t believe I’m meeting you on a Saturday morning in the fucking valley. You owe me big time.”
“I know, I know.” I give her a hug, and narrowly avoid a glob of ketchup, which is dangerously close to getting in my hair. “What will the people at your gym think of your fast-food habit?” I ask, eyeing her as she takes an enormous bite.
“I’m quitting as soon as I open up my location,” she says with a mouth full of food.
“So is it official?”
“Yep, signed the papers last week.” She smiles.
“That’s so cool. Congratulations.” I give her another hug.
“No more late nights. No more crazy network execs. No more piece-of-shit shows. I can’t believe I’m done.”
Is it me, or is everyone moving on with their lives? Zoë is getting married. Stephanie has a new career. Matt’s a screenwriter. A rich successful screenwriter. Okay, I have to stop thinking this way. This movie is going to blow. It has to.
“You ready for this?” asks Stephanie.
“Yeah, it’s just a movie, right?”
“Just a movie.” Stephanie smirks at me and tosses her breakfast wrapper in the trash.
As we walk inside the theater, I’m relieved to see that we are the only ones there.
“Wow, it’s a good thing we got here early. Another five minutes and we’d have to sit in the front row.” Stephanie rolls her eyes emphatically as she picks a seat smack in the middle of the room.
“Shut it.” I tear open my bag of peanut M&M’s and immediately pop two into my mouth. “So how is Nancy doing?” I ask.
“When was the last time you spoke to her?”
“I don’t know, a few weeks ago. I’ve been really busy at work.”
Stephanie throws her long legs over the seat in front of us. “She broke up with her sweaty yoga JDate guy.”
“What? Are you serious? She didn’t even tell me.”
“You know Nancy. She’s got to stay positive about everything.”
I shake my head. “She thought they were soul mates.”
“Turns out, JDate was a JDick. He basically told her in a text message that it just wasn’t working out. And this was like a week after they slept together.”
“No!” Poor Nancy.
“Yep. What a fucking prick. She sure knows how to pick ’em.” At that exact moment the lights dim and Stephanie sits up a bit straighter.
“This better suck,” I say.
“Don’t worry, it will,” replies Stephanie as she puts her hand out for a few of my M&M’s.
One hour and forty-two minutes later, the credits for It’s
Not Me, It’s You, begin to roll. Neither one of us has spoken one word to each other throughout the entire film.
“Right, let’s get out of here,” says Stephanie.
I stand up from my chair, but can barely feel my legs.
We both squint as our eyes adjust to the sunlight outside. “Want to go next door to the Starbucks and get a drink?” she asks.
“Sure,” I say quietly. I let Stephanie lead the way since I can barely move. She sits me down at a table by the window while she orders us both lattes. I stare down at my hands and notice that my cuticles are all torn up after gnawing at them for the last two hours.
“All right, let’s not bullshit around here,” says Stephanie as she places both cups in front of me. “How much of that was based on your relationship?”
“Loosely, I’d say a lot.”
The short of the movie is this: Guy has girlfriend. A whiny, needy, rather frigid girlfriend. About one-third into the film he falls for someone else, a beautiful model with a sense of humor who speaks two languages. He cheats on the bad girlfriend, dumps her and in the end winds up blissfully happy with the perky robot. Zoë was right. I should not have seen this movie.
“Okay,” Stephanie says gravely as she pours a packet of Splenda into her cup. “I recognized a few things. But they’re just fragments. He changed it all around to suit his story. Like the scene in the beginning, when it was raining and they got locked out of the house. In the movie, it ended in a big fight. That’s not how it really happened, right?”
I take a breath. “Right, it was at his apartment in Los Feliz. We stood outside for a half an hour until his drunk landlord finally let us in.” And we made out the entire time on the front doorstep. It was like something out of a movie. Just not this movie. I stare down at my coffee. “Oh, and I also got the vanilla wafer treatment,” I add. “I wonder how many girlfriends he’s done that for.”
In the movie, when the guy finally leaves the bad girlfriend, he spells out “I love you” in vanilla wafers on the model’s bed. When I was wafered, it was the first time he ever told me he loved me. In cookies. I totally fell for it. Idiot.
“Oh God, mortifying.” I cover my face with my hands. “Everyone who knew us is going to think that this is about me.” I take a gulp of my latte and the heat of it burns a path down my throat.
“What are you talking about? You’re nothing like that character.”
“I know,” I say distractedly. Sure, she was an over-the-top caricature of a needy girl, so outrageous that I should be able to hide in anonymity behind the cartoon version of me. For one, I never buried his car keys in the backyard or caressed his face while he faked being asleep. But there were a few scenes that were spot on, embarrassing moments I would never confess to anyone, shining on the big screen for the world to see. Things you do when your relationship is slipping away. Like 2:00 a.m. cell-phone stalking after a fight, drive-bys and the crazy crying/yelling/begging parade as he walks out the door.
“It’s a movie, and a shit one at that. All he did was take a bunch of pieces from his life and throw them into a script. It means nothing.” Stephanie gingerly places her coffee cup on the table.
“That, uh, sex thing didn’t really happen, did it?”
My face flushes red. There was a montage in the movie where the needy, whiny girlfriend wouldn’t have sex for three months because she’d gained four pounds. “No. That was complete bullshit.” It was ten pounds, two weeks and I was pissed at him for flirting with a waitress.
“Do you think he was cheating on you?”
“I don’t know. He just said he wanted to see other people,” I say, my voice quavering.
“Bullshit, he was fucking someone else the whole time.”
I rub my forehead. Hmm, maybe I should have brought Nancy. Not too sure I need the tough-love act right now. I take the lid off my latte and blow on it. “Well, regardless. It was a long time ago.”
“How can you be so calm? He butchered you. He made it look like the fault was entirely yours.”
“Hey, I thought you said it wasn’t based on me?”
“Well, Christ. You have to admit, there were some similarities. The Nutella, for one.”
“I would never eat a jar of Nutella with my finger. That’s disgusting.” A spoon, yes, but finger-dipped, saliva-flavored Nutella loses its appeal.
“I can’t believe how well you’re taking this. If my ex did this to me, I’d hunt him down, cut off his dick and beat him to death with it.”
With that, an older woman eating a muffin at the table next to us scowls and turns her chair in disgust. Stephanie and I cover our mouths and giggle like teenagers.
I don’t even know how I feel. He twisted everything. He most likely cheated on me. Our entire relationship was a lie. And the one and only person I ever loved just rubbed my face into a big pile of dirt and made a lot of money out of it.
“Look, he’s a fucking asshole. He’ll get his one day, what comes around goes around.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe he will. Maybe he won’t. Fuck it. I’m hungry. Can we go get some lunch and an adult beverage?”
Stephanie’s face lights up. “You know I never say no to food and alcohol. So are you okay? Do you regret seeing it?”
The real question is, what’s more upsetting, the fact he skewered me for fodder or that he’s a successful screenwriter now? It’s a toss-up.
“No, I don’t regret it,” I say as I follow Stephanie outside. “But I’m ready to stuff those pesky emotions down with some emotional eating right about now.”
Chapter Ten
Yawning, I hit the power button on my MacBook Pro and wait for the gray apple to flutter to life. Last night I had an attack of the Sunday blues, so it took me hours to fall asleep. When I finally went under, the precious moments of unconsciousness were ruined by nightmares. I was trapped in Matt’s movie and everyone was laughing at me.
I sign on to IM, instantly getting a hit from Nancy:
NanceG: Hi, you ok? Steph told me about the movie.
Abbyed: Yeah, I’ve been better. What did she say?
NanceG: She’s just worried about you and so am I.
Abbyed: Thanks. I’ll be okay in like 20 years, once I come out of hiding. Heard you broke up with yoga guy. I’m really sorry.
NanceG: The universe is clearly telling me I need to focus on me right now. I really just need to cleanse myself of men for a while. That’s why I’m writing. You need to come with me to this amazing party tonight.
Abbyed: What kind of party?
NanceG: It’s called a Goddess Party.
Abbyed: Hell, no.
NanceG: Please? It’s not like it sounds. It’s all about honoring ourselves as beautiful, powerful beings.
Abbyed: Can’t. No way. Can’t do it.
NanceG: Please come. I really think it would do you some good. We both have to find our strength and these amazing women can definitely help.
Abbyed: You go find your strength and tell me about it.
NanceG: I never ask you to do this stuff. Please, for me?
Abbyed: Christ. Will there be food and booze?
NanceG: There will be dinner and wine, yes.
Abbyed: Fine. But if I’m miserable, I’m coming up with some excuse to leave early.
NanceG: Believe me, you’ll want to keep coming back after this. I promise. Drop by my place by 7:30, and we can go from there.
Abbyed: I’m bringing my own car, beyotch, but I’ll follow you there. I’m not walking in by myself.
NanceG: Yay!
Abbyed: Uh huh. Bye.
NanceG: See you soon. You won’t regret it.
I can’t believe I just said yes to Nancy’s goddess party, whatever the hell that even means. She probably needs a little “misery loves company.” Who knows, maybe I need to open my eyes to different experiences. Maybe this will be a good thing.
“Hey, how was your weekend?” asks Christine as she plops her computer down on her desk.
> “Hmm, well, it was okay. How about yours?”
“It was good. Wait! Did you see it?”
Oh crap. That’s what sucks about such close working quarters. You hear every detail of each other’s lives.
“Yeah, it pretty much sucked.”
“Really? It looks so cute. Why did it suck?”
I stifle a whimper. “Well, he basically took parts of our relationship and twisted them into a sick little knot. I don’t come off too well. Not that it’s based on me at all, but if it were, I don’t come off too well.”
“Are you serious? Holy shit. That’s insane.” Christine’s mouth is open so wide I can see her fillings. “But there’s a movie out there about you. I mean, isn’t the saying something like imitation is the best form of flattery?”
“Not in this case. He totally demonizes me.”
“Who demonizes you?” asks a deep voice coming from behind my desk. I turn to look, and see Will casually leaning against the wall, taking a sip of his coffee. Oh, God, this is bad. I don’t want a lot of people in the office knowing about this. Especially Will. Ugh. He’s smiling that cute crooked smile at me and now I’m feeling all nervous and sweaty. What the hell?
Before I can give Christine the evil eye, my own personal sign language for open your mouth and die, she’s already beginning to blab.
“You know that movie It’s Not Me, It’s You? Abby’s ex-boyfriend wrote it and it’s based on her.”
Oh, come on! I clear my throat. “He didn’t base it on me at all. He just used a couple of things that happened between us and then twisted them and made up some other stuff and then made the girl completely crazy and then there’s this other girl who he cheats with and then that’s the end.” Somebody put me out of my misery here.
“I saw it last weekend. Terrible movie.”
I crack my first smile of the day. “Frankly, I was bored,” I joke.
“So the second girlfriend, the model, she was based on you, right? Well, she didn’t do you justice.” He gives me a little wink and walks away.
I feel all of the blood in my body rush to my face.
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