Page 10 of A Holly Jilly Christmas

“Mm,” I say, as I hear Case groan softly. Not the good kind of groan like when something sounds delicious. Clearly, something is wrong with the man’s palate.

“Y’all are the two movie people who broke down?” she asks. “I’m Mari. Big Mo said he towed your car in.”

“That’s us,” I say, trying to shove away any worries about Tina. Particularly, any expenses fixing her might incur. “I’m Jilly and this is Case. Is Mo back yet? I’d like to thank him again.”

Especially now that I look like a normal human. As soon as Tank got us settled in the gorgeous modern loft a few buildings down from his own, I stripped out of my layers, only then realizing I’d still been wearing tights on my head while meeting Mo and Tank.

Humiliating.

And Mr. Sunshine across the table didn’t think to mention how dumb I looked. WHO ALLOWS SOMEONE TO WALK AROUND WITH TIGHTS ON THEIR HEAD? It’s like not telling a person they have spinach in their teeth, multiplied by a billion.

So, if I’m giving him a hard time about his food choices, that’s why. He totally deserves it.

“Mo just got back. I’ll send him out to say hi in a few. Do we know what we’re having tonight?” Mari asks.

“The waffle plate with bacon,” I answer. “How are your grits?”

Mari winks. “A must.”

“Then grits too. And a coffee.”

“You drink caffeine this late?” Case asks, looking judgy. Which I guess is just his resting face.

“I pretty much keep a steady drip going into my system. I can drink a pot of coffee and go right to sleep.” I snap my fingers for dramatic effect.

“That’s disturbing,” Case says.

“I like to think it’s impressive.” I hand my menu back to Mari.

She smiles. “I’ll make a fresh pot. Then you’ll have enough to take when you go.”

“That would be great.”

Even though caffeine doesn’t keep me awake, having something to eat or drink does help my focus, and I want to do some work when I get back to the hotel. I hope to present Sheet Cake not as an option for a single movie, but as more of a central shooting location. I need to do a bit more research tonight on locations, properties, and some of the local laws.

I was lucky to land this job right out of college with an English degree and no experience in film or related fields. So I made sure I was REALLY good at my job. After a few years of this under my belt, I know what to look for and what to look out for—not just visually, but down to the legal issues.

It’s shocking how many of these tiny towns still have weird, leftover laws that can inhibit filming. I’ve got a document where I collect my favorite ones. Things like: no serenading from a balcony after dusk (which actually made one location impossible due to singing from a balcony in the script); roadkill may not be cooked on an open grill (ew times a million, especially because it says nothing about closed grills); and no more than three unrelated persons may reside in a single dwelling for more than ten days (which put the kibosh on a whole town because it left only the gross hotel rather than home rentals and Airbnbs as an option for our crew).

If Sheet Cake does pan out (ha! punny) as a more permanent location and I’m the one who brings it to the studio, I can use this to lobby for a raise. It would also effectively put me out of a scouting job if we make this our sole location. I love scouting, but the pay isn’t so hot. I’ve been hoping to move into working with the writers on adaptations or even with the directors and am hoping this could be my big break.

Unless Case is trying to step in and take credit or step on my toes somehow. I honestly can’t think of another reason our boss would have sent him. That would be SO like David. I can’t be the only one who’s noticed the massive turnover, especially of women in many of our entry- or lower-level positions. I love our company, icky boss aside, and I don’t want to go anywhere. But to stay … I need to see a chance for advancement.

The thought that David or Case might get in the way of that sends a chill through me and unleashes fresh, new worries.

I study Case as he asks Mari a lot of questions before settling on toast and a grilled chicken breast. I don’t know him well, but he has a well-deserved reputation around the office for being prickly and inflexible. Which could just be a personality trait—not everyone is sunshine and rainbows.

But is he a true jerk, like the kind of garbage human who would step in on someone else’s project to take credit? Is he as bad as David, who likes to run the office like a good ol’ boys club? THIS is what I need to know.

I brought this location to David just this week, and as far as I know, it wasn’t anywhere near his radar. It only got on mine in a roundabout way. One of my very favorite beers is a coffee stout from Dark Horse Brewery, owned and operated by Tank’s son, James—in my opinion, not just a great brewer but also the hottest of the brothers. I followed the news about Dark Horse’s move to Sheet Cake, which is how I found out about the Graham family essentially taking on the feat of revitalizing the small town.

I found it. I’m scouting it. And when I present the idea of using Sheet Cake as Brightmark’s main hub for filming, I want it to come from me and ONLY me.

When Mari has taken the menus and disappeared into the kitchen, I fold my arms on the table and eye Case. “So, David asked you to come along and babysit me?”

Is it just me or does he look distinctly uncomfortable? His squirming is very un-Case-like.

“I asked to come.”

---