Page 84 of Heavy Shot

She wanted something more than the money her forebears had accumulated as her coda. She wanted to achieve something. She wanted to create something new. It was one of the reasons why she was writing. Every week, she got to contribute to a new piece of art, even if it was just a sitcom. But the sitcom was a stepping stone. She needed to prove her chops while she worked on more serious personal projects, so that when she was ready to launch a bid for her real work, she was trusted and established with a portfolio.

She wanted to get funding like any other producer, not just siphon funds out of her bank account for a vanity project. Distantly, she wondered where Rick got his funding, and then if she might want to put up capital for one of his projects. Before she could think too much on it, an alarm blipped on her laptop that she had ten minutes before she needed to be in the writers room.

As she'd predicted, Rhiannon did spend the whole of the afternoon in meetings. There was still much discussion about June sweeps and the potential guest stars, most of May was already in the can. Kline's name was mentioned again for June, with a few glances in her direction, but she simply said that he would be a good choice if they could get him. When she was finally free from the last meeting, she went to her office and gathered her things, including the latest batch of rewrites, and headed down the hall. She poked her head into Thad's dressing room and wished him luck with his dinner meeting. "Try not to talk yourself out of the part when you meet the guy, hm?"

"Right," he smiled. "I'll give it my best."

"You do that." She waved goodbye then headed out to her car. She'd just started the engine when her cell phone rang, and she dug it out and answered without looking. "Hello?"

"Hey, Rhiannon. It's Jill. Hi."

"Hi, Jill. How's it going?" she asked. They hadn't spoken since the voice mail apologies, and she wasn't sure whether this call was a continuation or another fight in the making.

"Pretty well, I guess. Uh, are we okay? I wanted to check.And warn you--there are going to be new pictures of Kline and me."

"I think we're okay," she said, with something of a sigh of relief as she pulled out of the parking space. "Thanks for the warning, but he's not my problem anymore."

"Oh. Well...I got a car," Jill offered as conversation.

"Yeah? What kind?"

"It's a Mercedes convertible. Silver. Really pretty," she said, "I feel so LA in it."

"Nice ride. Do you know how to drive?"

"Barely," she laughed. "I managed the freeway, though.I went and picked up Kline for lu— Well, August won't ride with me.He thinks it's ridiculous that I bought a car, but I'm really happy about it. He’s in Paris anyway.”

"As long as you're happy," Rhiannon said, seriously. "You don't need to censor yourself, Jill. I know you're spending time with him. Really, it doesn't bother me now that I know what the deal is, and I'm not part of the deal anymore, and that's fine. It was apparent that I wasn't good for him and I know that he wasn't very good for me."

"Okay," Jill said unsurely, but then added, "I was going to say I picked him up and drove him to lunch, but then he wouldn't let me drive back because I scared him so badly.Driving is so much more complicated than I thought. I never realized there was so much more than just stopping and going!"

"All those years of hired cars have spoiled you, my dear," Rhiannon said, laughing. "I'll reserve my full judgment until I've had a ride in the passenger's seat."

"You should wait. I don't want to risk killing you until I have a few more lessons under my belt, but I would love to see you. If…if we’re still friend-ish?"

Rhiannon was slower to respond than she meant to be. Were they? Had they ever been friends? Could they really be friends? What did friends even mean? A little voice in the back of her head said, “We believe women and we don’t fight over men.” She let out a breath. At worst, she’d have an unpleasant lunch. “Yeah,” she said finally. “Of course. Let's get together for lunch or something. When are you free?"

"Next Wednesday if that's good for you?"

"Sure. Do you want to come to the studio?"

"That's fine with me.Oh--right--you work! Is noon good?" Jill laughed

"More like two if that works for you. I'll have your name on the list."

"Great. See you then.Buh-bye."

Rhiannon laughed as she hung up the phone.

Jill Parker

Jill and August made it through a stilted dinner conversation in his massive dining room, the two of them seated together at the head and right hand of a table for ten. He’d been truculent and waspish since she’d picked him up at the airport, and only part of that could have been because of her driving. Finally, she leaned back in her chair with a sigh and asked, "What is wrong? What is really bothering you?"

Part of her was still stinging from the barbs he’d thrown about her convertible telegraphing her constant need for attention, and whether her reputation might suffer being seen with him instead of herone true love. He had barely pecked her on the cheek after the skycap put his luggage in the trunk and opened the passenger side door for him to enter, but he had looked her over disapprovingly and said, “I hope you’re wearing sunscreen.”

Once home, she’d given him time to decompress in the shower before joining him under the spray. Her playful attempts to seduce him with a handful of suds came up limp, and he’d just said something about not being in the mood before shutting off the water and leaving her standing in the walk-in alone.

Now, he frowned at her with a creased forehead. "Oh nothing’s wrong.Just the fact that I'm going to be in Paris for another four weeks and by the time I’m back home, the press is going to have you married off to Kline–if Roland doesn’t actually convince you to marry him for real.I won't be here to remind you of us.But he'll be here constantly to remind you of him."

---