Page 102 of A Lucky Shot

If he didn’t fuck up Sirius Darker, maybe one day he would. No one would trust him with a big budget if he couldn’t handle a small one. Weeks left and he would be stuck with what they had done. No chance to make it better.

Who was he kidding? It was going to flop.

“I can feel you tensing up,” Cass said through a yawn. “Don’t worry. They make it out of the temple.”

“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s …”

It was everyone counting on him to pull this off. It was the thought that if he fucked this up, none of these people would ever work with him again. It was the fact that they had two weeks of filming left and he was running out of time.

He chewed the words, bitter in his mouth. “We’re behind schedule. We’re probably going over budget. I knew we shouldn’t have moved filming the end scenes to next week.”

He braced himself for Cass to tell him not to worry about it, to think positive, but instead she said, “Sure, we’re behind, but I think you made the right choice to delay filming the scenes.”

“You do?”

“Dawson and Brynne didn’t have the rapport yet to sell the moment, and you saw that. You made the decision.”

He’d made the decision because she’d pointed out the answer to him.

“Now they trust each other,” she continued. “It’ll be incredible. And we might go over budget, but Terry will keep it under control, and Stephen has a death grip on the schedule. You’ve got a good team.”

The credits were rolling up the screen, the triumphant music ushering the characters into the sunset. Josh forced a breath out his nose. “I’m used to doing all that myself.”

“This is different. You know that. No captain would be expected to steer a cruise ship by themself.” She sat up and stretched, the hem of her shirt lifting. His fingers twitched to run along the exposed seam of her belly, but he kept his hands to himself as promised, and listened.

“The projects you worked on in the past were tiny. You could do everything then, but even then, you said you weren’t happy with the result when you did it all. Your team trusts you. Everyone is doing amazing work. Both Dawson and Brynne are talented, but the performances you are getting from them are next level. People will notice, and it’s because you are focusing on what you’re brilliant at, not the other details.”

Cass was kind, but she wasn’t a bullshitter. Some of the turmoil in his stomach released. “Do you think so?”

“I know so. I see it every day.”

He clenched his hands. When he’d dropped out of his father’s law practice, his parents put on a show of support. Confusion, but support. His grandparents told him he was bringing shame on the family. And other people’s reactions ranged from disbelief to dismay to disgust. He’d been a good lawyer. Detailed. Consistent. He put in the hours. But he never would have been an excellent lawyer, not like his father, because every hour he had sat behind that desk had felt like one hour closer to death.

Every elective in high school and university he’d taken had been in performance and film. He’d figured out every argument. A background in the arts would make him look well-rounded, and law school would look favourably on his application. Drama classes would make him a better public speaker.

At least, that’s what he told his grandparents. Not like his father’s contract law practice would have him in front of a judge and jury.

He had tried to forget the rush he felt making short films between his law lectures on contracts and ethics. He’d even tried to specialize in entertainment law, to see if that would be enough to satisfy him. It hadn’t been.

Now he’d been in film and television full time for a handful of years, and here he was, already filming his dream project. He was an imposter.

But every time he felt like he was out of his depth, Cass helped him breathe again.

Getting used to that was out of the question.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Cass had leaned back on the opposite end of the couch, arms wrapped around her knees and the sleep retreating from her eyes.

“I’m wondering why you are sitting all the way over there. Do you want to watch another movie or go to bed?”

Cass looked like she was going to say something, then stopped with a closed smile. “Let’s watch another one. You pick.”

The chirp of his phone woke him, and he squinted into the darkness. The DVD logo bounced around the edges of the television. Josh peeled his head off the back of the couch and looked at Cass crashed on the other side, their legs tangled together in the middle.

He pulled his feet back, working out the stiffness from the awkward position, and reached for his phone.

Sure enough, through a slew of other texts that didn’t crack the Do Not Disturb filter, a message from his mother showed at the top of the screen.

Merry Christmas!

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