‘This is Meredith,’ Vaughn says. ‘She’s over from our California office.’
Meredith gives me a beaming smile. She’s shorter than me, with a round face and strawberry blonde curls. ‘Nice to meet you, Meredith,’ I say.
‘Please, have a seat,’ Vaughn says when the introductions are over.
There’s a sense of unease in my stomach. This meeting has been scheduled for some time, a formality before I’m due to get on a plane to commence filming for my next project.
‘You’re probably wondering exactly what’s going on here,’ Vaughn says on the other side of the glass-topped table, as Meredith pours glasses of water for everyone.
I give a slow nod. ‘You’re not exactly who I thought I would be meeting.’
‘Of course not,’ he booms in a larger-than-life tone. ‘Because the news hasn’t been released yet. I should tell you, as of tomorrow, I’ll be the new Chief Content Officer for Silverpix.’
‘Oh,’ I blurt, because my agent, Simone, hasn’t mentioned a thing regarding his new position. Chief Content Officer means no project receives the green light without his say-so. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you,’ he responds. ‘I’m sure there’ll be an announcement of sorts in the press very soon. The thing is, I’ve known about this job for a long time. Even before I met you back in March. Feels good to finally be in the driver’s seat.’
I wonder where this is going. ‘I’m… exceedingly thrilled for you.’
He’s wagging his finger at me. ‘You’ve got talent, Lexi. I knew you were gonna win that award. I would have bet my life on it. But then I see who your parents are and it doesn’t surprise me one bit. Patrick Hart is one of our all-time great directors. Your mother was a very talented actress.’
I blink, keeping my eyes forward, trying not to reveal any emotion. He wouldn’t know that I no longer speak to my father. ‘Thank you,’ I murmur, because it seems like the right thing to say.
Vaughn leans forward in his chair. I can see a layer of perspiration glistening on his forehead. ‘Here’s the thing. As a company, I want Silverpix to think big.’
He raises his hand and brushes the air, as though about to perform a magic trick.Think big. That was his message in the moments after I’d won my award. The two words make me nervous.
‘Lately, I’ve been working on some deals, before anybody knew about my new role. You might have seen that a couple of months ago, Silverpix signed a deal with Rebel Heart for an all-access, behind-the-scenes documentary of their world tour.’
I’d read something about it. Not that it interested me. Rebel Heart aren’t exactly my cup of tea. ‘I saw that, yes.’
‘You see? That’s what I’m talking about! Rebel Heart! Biggest band in pop music right now! It’s gonna behuge. Viewing figures are expected to be off the charts! New account sign-ups trebled on the day of the press release alone.’
Around six years ago, I would have classed them as a boy band. Now they’re more of a ‘man band’, who’ve sold a bajillion albums yet still manage to boast hordes of screaming, obsessed fans. Personally, I prefer my music with a grungier vibe. Rebel Heart is the embodiment of an artificial, manufactured pop group.
‘The thing is,’ Vaughn continues, ‘two days ago, I personally fired the project’s director.’
A horrible feeling squelches in my stomach. ‘Oh? Why?’
Vaughn lounges back in his chair, which seems altogether too small for him. ‘Band weren’t keen on him. Two weeks into the tour and the footage he’d captured so far… let’s just say it didn’t meet the threshold. It was pedestrian. Zero creativity. So, he’s gone.’
Vaughn slices an invisible line across his throat. I swallow, glancing at Meredith, who appears to avoid eye contact with me. I hear my voice tremor when I speak. ‘And what does all this have to do with me?’
He looks serious. ‘We’ve sponsored your last two projects.’
Now seems like the time to start sucking up. ‘For which I am eternally grateful,’ I say.
Vaughn nods. ‘Passion projects. Brilliant work; and I applaud you for that. Migrant Channel crossings, people trafficking, your work is hard-hitting and incredibly impressive. The lengths you go to. You won us an Oscar, for god’s sake. Can’t ask for any more than that.’
‘Thank you,’ I repeat, only this time, my throat fully constricts.
‘Tell me about your latest project. The one you’re due to start shooting.’
I straighten my back. ‘I’m calling it “Plight of the Red T-Shirt”. It’s about the West’s obsession with fast fashion. It charts the life cycle of a simple red T-shirt, beginning with its manufacture in the sweatshops of Bangladesh, to its ending up on the vast discarded piles of clothing in the Atacama Desert, and all who come within touching distance of it. My cameraman – Duncan – and I are due to fly out to Bangladesh next week to begin filming.’
Vaughn sticks out his bottom lip. He circles one hand in the air, looking sacrosanct, before he shifts his gaze to Meredith, who is beaming. ‘It sounds… incredible.’
I look from Vaughn to Meredith, Meredith to Vaughn.