Page 11 of Broken Rules

“You take a breath.I’ll cast this movie.”

He turned slowly away from the cabinet above the deep sink.“Oh.That.I wanted to talk with you about that tonight.”

“Here I am.Let’s talk.”I popped a briny olive into my mouth and quickly went for another.It had been a busy day, and I hadn’t taken much time to eat.

He set a glass down in front of me, meeting my gaze.There’d have to come a point where I would get over the fluttering in my stomach whenever that happened.I could only pretend to ignore it for so long, and the cold wine didn’t do much to cool the heat in my chest, either.

“We’ve already been in talks with a cast for the film.Rather, we arranged it prior to our first meeting.”He waved a hand between us, sipping from his glass.

I had to be hearing things.Was I dreaming?“You’re already casting?”I asked, waiting for him to laugh and say it was all a joke.Except he didn’t.It wasn’t.

“The folder I brought in contains the headshots of our cast, along with everything we need to know about them… their requests, any precautions we need to take, like with Danica Cole and her bee allergy.We need the medic on hand during her outdoor shoots, just in case.”

Danica Cole.A big-breasted blonde without much obvious talent who the industry had been cramming down the world’s collective throat for the past year.I couldn’t remember a single name of one of her projects, she was that forgettable.

I opened the folder with a trembling hand, my entire body filling with dread and a sense of defeat.This was all a joke from the beginning.I was never in control, was I?

“We need a sure thing here, Summer.”He put together a small plate for himself, talking as he did.“We need big names, box office track records.”

I chewed a slice of grilled squash but didn’t taste a thing as I flipped through the images of familiar actors.“You cast my movie without me.We have a cast, and I’m only finding out about it now?”

“Don’t take it personally.”

That was the cherry on top of my shit sundae.The way he said that and sounded like he meant it.Rather than open my mouth and let every ounce of my rage come pouring out, I slowly drank my wine until the glass was empty, searching for something to say that wouldn’t get me fired or result in me breaking down in tears.“I knew it.”I finally sighed, even laughing softly.“In the end, it doesn’t matter if we make the best movie possible.Those were pretty words you fed me.Only one thing makes a difference to people like you.”

The fucker had the nerve to roll his eyes and was lucky I didn’t throw something at him for it.“Please, can we be adults about this?You’re about a heartbeat away from taking it too far.”

The sanctimonious prick.I was almost blind with rage, and he wanted to talk about being adults?“Another cowardly move,” I whispered, watching his tan complexion go darker.Did I hurt the baby’s feelings?Poor thing.“Whatever it takes, so long as you help the Hollywood machine pump out the same old bullshit.Have you ever respected your audience for a minute, or do you figure they’ll pay either way?”

He threw his hands into the air, barking out a laugh that echoed throughout the room.“Give it up, already!”

“Not when we both know it’s true!”

“Let’s get something straight.Just because I didn’t go to film school or spend years scraping and fighting in the trenches for my ‘art’…” he made air quotes around the word art, which only made me grind my teeth, “… that doesn’t mean I don’t care about the process.I’m not looking to make some formulaic, brainless blockbuster, Summer.”

“What are you looking to make?Because all of your so-called casting suggestions have been predictable and uninspired.What else am I supposed to think?”I shoved the folder across the counter when I would’ve liked to cram it down his throat.

Slamming a palm against the counter, he growled out, “You’re supposed to think I want this movie to make money, goddammit.”

“Of course!”I barked out a laugh.“Because that’s all that matters.Money.”

“It sort of helps.It’s helping you stay in a gorgeous apartment for the next six months, isn’t it?”

“Don’t hold that over my head,” I warned.

He lifted a shoulder.“I was only calling you out on your hypocrisy.”

“My hypocrisy?”I asked, laughing again.“Oh, get over yourself.If I’m going to be beholden to you all because you’ve signed a short-term lease for me, you can spare us both.I’d rather live in a motel for the next six months than have to kiss your ass just because of an apartment.”

“You are more than welcome to.”His stony face and steely-eyed stare sent apprehension skittering down my spine.He was serious.He wasn’t going to back down.

Neither was I.It wasn’t what I did.“Fine.I will.I wouldn’t want to owe you anything if it meant sacrificing my vision.”

“There you go with your vision,” he muttered, waving a hand.“Has anyone ever taught you the meaning of the word compromise?”

“Oh, sure,” I retorted.“I compromised by doing ninety percent of the work onRoad to Gloryand got zero percent of the credit.Yeah, that worked out really well.”

“You’re going to have to let go of that.”

---