Page 26 of Take 2
I lean over the aisle to seeWhen Stars Fallon his screen. “Don’t do that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to know you’re watching my movie right next to me. I’ll be trying to watch for your reactions.”
“I’ve seen it before.”
The information shouldn’t surprise me, but it’s kind of strange. I talk to strangers all the time who’ve seen my movies, and of course, everyone I know in real life has, but Preston is this strange category unto himself. Not a stranger, not a friend.
“Not with me present. That’s as bad as being at screenings and waiting to hear laughter and sniffles when you expect it.”
He leans on his armrest conspiratorially. “I pop in AirPods at those so I can’t listen to any of it.”
“That’s terrible!”
“I’ve already seen it at that point.”
“But you … God, are you so …”—play nice, Mira—“confidentthat you really don’t think you have to worry about what anyone thinks?”
“I care about what some people think. Those people aren’t at the screenings. Want to make it a fair trade? You can read the screenplay you’ll be watching the filming of while I watch your movie.”
I press my lips together. “Um, that seems weird. I’ve never read one of your screenplays.”
His eyebrows draw together. “Seriously?”
“Mhmm.”
“I’ve had three screenplays inFor Your Consideration.”Should I be grateful he failed to mention they all won best screenplay?
“I’m aware.”
“You’re a screenwriter.”
“Yep.” I drink half the glass of champagne as the flight attendant comes to clear them for takeoff.
“I didn’t think you werethatstubborn.”
“Don’t underestimate me.”
“Have you seen any of my movies?”
I tap my teeth together before answering. “I sawChoking in the Darkbecause James was in it.”
He scrunches his lips to the side. “You should watchMissed Opportunities.” That first movie propelled him into the limelight. I’ve never been able to bring myself to see it. He doesn’t wait for a response, just lets the topic drop.
In the air, we’re served dinner, and then Preston does indeed put on my movie. I want to watch him watching it, but that would be wildly creepy. The idea that he’s judging it or comparing how his own are better gnaws at me. It’s probably ridiculous since he’s seen it before. But the thought remains.
A jump into the writing rabbit hole distracts me. Not in a direction I was supposed to go. Mostly, I daydream about things that don’t fit into the script Ashleigh and I had planned for me to work on. Eventually, I go to sleep, then I adjust the throne back up from the bed position to be fed again. I’m basically a jelly person inWall-E.
By the time we get to our hotel, I’ve been with Preston for basically a whole day, and we are both somehow still alive.
Chapter Eleven
Thesunislowbehind the hotel. Yachts pepper the darkening Mediterranean. The stainless-steel edge of the glass balcony rail is cool under my hands.
How am I here?
“Is that Oscar-nominated screenwriter Mirabelle Sheridan?”
