Page 116 of Stay for Me
“It is. Listen, I just want to say this . . . I’ve worked with a lot of actors, and them entering a new relationship isn’t something I haven’t handled. Noah and Kristin met a few years ago when he was in the middle of a huge scandal. There was a lot of drama, and we dealt with it. No one bothered Kristin. We made sure that she was protected. While I don’t make this a policy, I’m always going to do my best to protect the people you love, Jacob. Part of my job as your publicist is to keep your life out of the tabloids, but the other part is to make sure you’re happy because, if you’re happy, you work better. Brenna makes you happy, I could see that clear as day when I saw you with her.”
I appreciate her saying that. “She and the kids are my top priority. I can handle the media, but she didn’t choose this.”
Catherine is silent for a minute. “Maybe not, but she chose you.”
“She did, but I’ll still do whatever I can to keep her life normal. The way that Noah was able to do that for Kristin.”
“I understand. Speaking of Noah, he sent an email asking for an emergency call in about five minutes. Can you swing that?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really,” Catherine says.
I didn’t think so. We talk a bit more about the photo shoot and the article. Catherine decided it was best not to do an interview and to just have her and her team release a statement. I tend to say stupid things when I’m on the record. For the first foot out the gate, we’re going to avoid any chance of that.
“He’s beeping in now, I’ll conference it,” Catherine explains.
After a few seconds, they’re both on the call. “Jacob, glad you could make it on. Sorry about the short notice. I got a call just a little while ago, and it seems we have a problem.”
There’s an almost regretful tone to his voice. “What’s wrong?”
“We had an issue with one of our servers that housed a scene we need for the third version of the trailer forFlight Plan.”
“What kind of issue?” I ask.
“One that requires you on a plane tonight to reshoot a major scene.”
My stomach drops. “Tonight?”
“I’m sorry, but yes, tonight. I need you in the studio tomorrow.”
No, I can’t. I can’t go to California tonight. I have the play tomorrow. “Noah, I wish I could, but I have a commitment tomorrow that I can’t miss.”
“I swear, I’m not trying to be a dick, but there’s really not a choice here. We have to reshoot tomorrow all day. Believe me, I do not want to be here either. Aubrey has her birthday party this weekend, Kristin is on a deadline, and I had to get on a plane the minute I found out. You’re contractually obligated to be available for reshoots.”
I let out a long sigh that’s filled with disappointment. “It’s opening night for the school play.”
“The one you’re directing?” Noah asks.
“Yes.”
Noah goes quiet, and I can barely make out the sound of papers shuffling in the background. “Listen, I can’t make any promises, but we’ll do everything we possibly can to get done before lunch and get you on a plane so you’re back in time. It would cut it close, but maybe you won’t have to miss it. I’ll move the reshoots to first thing in the morning so that maybe neither one of us gets our balls cut off for this.”
I close my eyes, already knowing that this is going to go badly. I’m going to disappoint them and . . . Brenna.
Catherine cuts in. “I’ll make sure to have Jackson’s private plane on standby. We’ll move heaven and earth to get you home, Jacob.”
This is one of those moments where no matter what I do, I’m fucked. If I say no and refuse to go, I’ll lose my contract and will probably get sued. I could be blacklisted by every producer and director in Hollywood. If I do go, there is a chance I won’t make it back in time for the play and let down people I genuinely care about.
If it weren’t this movie. This director. This role . . . I would say fuck it, but I can’t. Noah, Catherine, and I know it. I answer the only way I can. “I’ll be on a plane in a few hours. I need you to make sure I get back in time.”
* * *
There is a giant rock sitting in my stomach, it moves and turns, making me nauseated. I’m standing at Brenna’s door, knowing I have to tell them and figure out a way to make them understand.
Which, at eleven years old, I sure as hell wouldn’t.
Time is running out, so I gather whatever courage I have and knock.
