Uncle Graham didn’t speak, so Jason jumped into the silence. “Look, Cass is gone. I’ll get a new director in, right away, just like I did the actor. Someone with some heft, right? We’ve already started filming. If you pull out now, I won’t have enough to cover the last few episodes. I need you to believe in me, Uncle Graham. For once in my life, I need you to believe in me.”

  Uncle Graham made a sound of surprised. “Jason…I have always believed in you. Always. You are so talented and so creative. This is not a reflection on you. I’m proud of what you’ve done. My brother would be bursting with pride if he could see you now. This is just business.”

  Jason stopped at the top of the stairs. “It’s not just business to me, Uncle Graham. It’s my life.”

  Uncle Graham was silent for what seemed an eternity. Jason said nothing. He’d said all there was to say.

  “All right,” Uncle Graham said. “Just…just get this taken care of.”

  Jason closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer of thanks. “Thanks, Uncle Graham. I won’t let you down, I promise.”

  He clicked off the call. He looked back—Cass and the reporter had left. He turned around and made his way to Mallory’s door.

  She answered after one knock. Her eyes were wide, her face ashen. “What happened?”

  “Can I come in?” Jason asked, and hobbled into her room, easing himself down on her bed and onto his back. He filled her in on what had transpired downstairs. Her face turned whiter as he talked. When he’d finished telling her most of it, she sank onto the bed beside him.

  “Is he…is he coming back to work?”

  Jason snorted. “No. He quit.”

  “Oh.” She looked up. “Oh.” A sheepish smile flickered across her face. “I can’t say I’m sorry, Jason. He didn’t want this gig. I don’t know why he didn’t quit before.”

  “Money,” Jason said. His back was killing him. Was it possible it was stress related? He’d been feeling better today, until Cass showed up. “I talked to my uncle. He’s not pulling funding yet.”

  “That’s good.”

  He began to clench and unclench his fist against the pain in his back. “I need you to get some directors in for me to interview,” he said. His mind was racing ahead, searching for ideas to put a finger in the crack of this dam. “At least three, but they need to be directors who have some notable experience behind them. I need someone who is respected in the industry, who Emmy voters won’t write off as being too…” He tried to think of the word and happened to look up and see Mallory’s face.

  She looked like she’d been hit by a truck. Her expression was crumpled, her eyes bewildered, and Jesus, he could be an idiot at times. He struggled to sit up. “Mallory, listen—”

  She was already off the bed. “Why not me?” she demanded of him. “I’m not going to pretend to be okay with this, Jason. I have to know—why not me?”

  “You’re too green,” he said honestly. “I need someone with clout.”

  “Why? Everyone on set has clout. You’ve got the best in the business, and you can’t let someone new in?”

  He could feel her distress. She wished she could feel his. There was so much riding on this series. He couldn’t hand this to her because he loved her.

  The thought caught him off guard. He did love her. But he had worked hard to get here, to this point of his career. “Not this time,” he said softly.

  Mallory’s gaze dropped to the floor. She was taking in deep gulps of air to calm herself.

  “Will you hear me out?” he begged her.

  “No. I don’t need to.”

  “This isn’t just about you, Mallory. You cannot understand the pressure I’m under. How much I have riding on this. My investors are my family, and they are threatening to pull out if I can’t produce a quality project. I have worked just as hard as you to get where I am, and I can’t afford to lose the confidence of the studio by installing someone brand-new into the director’s chair. You have to be reasonable about this.”

  “You don’t think I can make quality,” she said quietly.

  “Of course I do,” he said gruffly. “It’s not that. It’s a matter of moving quickly with the best people—”

  “You don’t think I’m the best people,” she said.

  “I think you are the best people, Mallory. But I don’t know if you are the best director. You’ve done a couple of short films and directed three exterior scenes at a hospital. That’s not a lot to go on. Please try and understand.”

  She looked up and pinned him with a look. “Actually, I think I understand really well.” Her eyes were shining with tears. “I think I’ve always understood, but I was so stupid that I…I…” She dropped her head again.

  “You what?”

  “Fell in love with you.” Her shoulders slumped. “I am such an idiot.”

  “No. No you’re not. Jesus Christ woman, can’t you see that I love you, too?” he asked, struggling to his feet. “I can’t do anything without you.”

  “Right. You need someone to find your phone and help you out of bed when you throw your back out, and oh, fly to Maine at the drop of a hat and do what Cass was supposed to do for a fraction of the cost, and what else, Jason? What else can you not do without me?”

  Her words were daggers. He felt slightly nauseous with the hint of truth in it, but it was more than that. He loved her. They were cut from the same cloth. “That’s not fair.”

  Mallory shrugged. She walked to the door and opened it. “I think you should go to your room.”

  “Mallory, let’s talk about this.”

  She wouldn’t look at him. “Please,” she said.

  Jason walked to the door. He paused there and looked down at her. She was clearly fighting to maintain her composure. But when she lifted her head, she looked him square in the eye and said, “Consider this my two week notice.”

  Jason was gutted. It was the death knell to him, to his show, to his life. “Don’t do this.”

  “I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago. I am never going to be anything but coffee girl if I don’t stand up for myself and take the opportunities where I can get them. I’ll finish the hospital scenes tomorrow and get you some directors, but then I’m leaving, Jason.” She pulled the door open wider.

  Everything was falling down around his head and screaming into the pain in his back. Jason could not remember feeling so incredibly frustrated as he did now, and did something he’d never done in his life—he took a swing at the wall. It served nothing other than to make the pain in his back almost send him to his knees. He gasped, put his hand on the doorjamb to keep from sliding to the floor.

  Mallory didn’t ask him if he was all right. She said, “You ought to be more careful,” and folded her arms over her middle.

  Through gritted teeth, Jason said, “I can’t fight you right now, Mallory. As much as I want to duke this out with you, I can’t. But we’re not done.” He hobbled out. The sound of her door closing behind him reverberated through his entire body.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  MALLORY EMAILED Kelly at Morning Moonlight Films from the last private plane trip she would ever take. She couldn’t believe how many she’d taken—she was singlehandedly destroying the environment.

  She received an almost-instant email response: FANTASTIC. Please come in Monday to discuss.

  When Mallory dragged her bag in through the door of her apartment, Inez was lounging on the couch, in the middle of a Real Housewives of New York marathon. She sat up, surprised to see Mallory. “I thought you were going to be gone a few more days. What’s up? Wait, I know—you came to get evening wear.” She laughed.

  Mallory dropped her backpack and covered her face with her hands.

  “Hey!” Inez leaped from the couch, put her arms around Mallory and dragged her to the couch to sit. “What’s the matter? What happened? Wait. Let me get a couple of beers.”

  Mallory hardly drank her beer at all while Inez drank two, listening with rapt attention to everything that had happened in Maine, up until the moment she’d stepped foot on the private plane. “You were right, Inez. You were so right. Again.”

  “Oh Mallory. You didn’t do his laundry did you?” she asked.

  “Sort of.”

  Inez nodded thoughtfully.

  “You hate him right?” Mallory asked weakly.

  “With the strength of a thousand burning suns,” she said adamantly. “But…” She winced a little.

  “But? But what?”

  “But don’t hate me…but he kind of has a point, doesn’t he?” she asked.

  Mallory stared at her best friend.

  “Hear me out,” Inez said.

  “I don’t want to hear you out,” Mallory said.

  “You’ve never done anything like that,” Inez said. “And, you know, a few scenes is great, and you can put it on your resume. But the story arc is over thirteen chapters and who knows how many scenes, and all that goes into it. That’s a lot Mallory.”

  “I just said I don’t want to hear you out,” she said peevishly.

  “And Jason might think you’re the greatest thing since Scorsese, but he’s right about this. He’s got to have someone with experience who can film this in an emergency and make it look great.”

  Mallory sank lower onto the couch. She knew what Inez was saying was right. The thought had certainly crossed her mind several times. But she was still hurt. “Why is everyone against me?”

  “No one is against you. Look, it’s all paying off. You have directed a few scenes, which, you know, was your goal. You have an interview on Monday. It’s all going to work out. Trust me. I always tell you straight.”

  But it wasn’t all going to work out. She didn’t disagree with Inez, really. But there was one thing Inez was leaving out—Mallory was in love with Jason. But she had to leave.

  The new director with “heft,” Jeff Craig, wanted to throw out all the production design and start over. He had a completely different idea of how the second season ought to look. Neil, the director of photography, and Maleeka, the production designer, and Jason met in L.A. to go over the new plan. Jason managed to slip into a neurosurgeon he knew and get a steroid shot in his back. He felt 1000 percent better. But the doctor warned he’d have to have surgery at some point.

  He’d get right on that—just as soon as the second season was in the can and the Emmy nominations were announced.

  His head was much clearer about things, and although Jeff’s ideas constituted a production delay, Jason and Neil and Maleeka were in agreement—it was the way to go. Jason didn’t know what he did with the meticulous notes he made, but he could remember most of it. Jeff didn’t have a signed contract yet, but wanted to hit the ground running. “Just let my agent know the terms,” Jeff said.

  There was one term Jason wasn’t sure about. He needed to talk to someone who wasn’t involved with Blackthorne Entertainment. He picked up the phone and called his cousin Ross. He was not quite a year older than Ross, and they’d been buddies growing up.

  “Hey,” Ross said when he answered the phone. “Long time, bro. What’s up?”

  “How are you, Ross?” Jason asked. Ross was a race-car driver, and recently, he’d been involved in an awful crash. The miraculous thing was, he’d walked away without a scratch. Ross had always seemed fearless to Jason, a true risk-taker. Jason needed to be fearless right now, so Ross seemed the perfect person to talk to.

  “I’m good,” Ross said. “Dad’s been on my case, but what else is new.” He chuckled.

  “Have you heard from your mom?”

  “Not really. I texted her, and she sent one back that said not to worry about her. That’s it.” They chatted about the family, and the rift between Uncle Graham and Aunt Claire. Ross had heard of the scandal with Jason’s show from Brock, so Jason filled in the blanks for him, updating him on his new hire.

  “Sounds like you’ve got it under control,” Ross said. “So what’s this call about?”

  Jason fidgeted with a pen on his desk. “I may be about to blow it up all over again,” he said, and told Ross what he was thinking of doing.

  When he’d finished laying it out, Ross just laughed. “Dude, you don’t need advice. You need a pep talk. Go get the girl, man!”

  “She might be done with me,” Jason said morosely.

  “If she is, well, at least you know you went down with a fight. Is there really any alternative? You sound like you’re in love with her.”

  Ross could always read Jason pretty well.

  Mallory’s two weeks was not up yet, but since Jason had come back to L.A., she’d been pretty scarce around the office. He had to dig into the office files to find her address. On his way to her house, he called Jeff Craig. This was the first part that could blow up in his face, and at first, Jason thought it had. Jeff was not happy with what he had to say, and argued with Jason. But after fifteen minutes of Jason patiently explaining himself, Jeff finally hemmed and hawed his way into a tentative agreement. But with conditions.

  Next up was Mallory. She would have conditions, too. If she would even listen to him.

  He had pulled onto her street when he got a call from Uncle Graham. Jason braced himself, ready to defend his latest decisions. The cost overruns were beginning to mount.

  “Good morning, Jason,” Uncle Graham said pleasantly. “How’s the weather in sunny California?”

  “Sunny,” Jason said. “How is it up your way?”

  “Good sailing weather. Have you seen the most recent entertainment news?”

  Jason braced himself. “No, I’ve been on the phone. What now?”

  “Well,” Uncle Graham said with a giddiness that startled Jason, “a video has surfaced of one Miss Candice Herrera and Mr. Cass Farenthold having a little conspiracy meeting at a Starbuck’s in New York.”

  “What?”

  “A customer sitting next to them recognized them both and videoed their conversation. They planned the whole thing to get him out of his contract without penalty, and get her a little money. He wanted to make it look like he had to leave because of your poor judgment in hiring.”

  Jason was stunned. Nothing should surprise him anymore, and yet, everything did.

  “The good news is, I’ve instructed our attorney to speak with your attorney, Jason. You’ve got a very good defamation lawsuit you can file. Just wait until you see the video.”

  “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll get this production rolling and reduce the overruns,” Uncle Graham said jovially.

  “I will, Uncle Graham,” Jason assured him as he pulled up outside an apartment building in Studio City. “There is just one last thing I have to do to get it all nailed down.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Jason sat a moment in his car, going over what he would say. For the thousandth time in his life, he wished he could organize his thoughts a little better. He wasn’t quite sure where to start with Mallory. He needed Mallory to organize his speech to Mallory.

  He found the apartment and knocked on the door. A very pretty woman with long black hair opened the door. She also had lovely expressive brown eyes, because they were radiating surprise and disgust at him. “Umm…I’m Jason—”

  “I know who you are.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Mallory is busy right now.”

  “No, she’s not,” Jason said calmly. “I don’t know what she’s told you, but I’ve come here to make it right.”

  “Really?” She folded her arms. “Because—”

  “Inez?”

  Mallory appeared in the hallway behind the woman whose name, apparently, was Inez. “What are you doing? Jason?”

  “He’s going to give you some song and dance, Mallory,” Inez said.

  Mallory was staring at Jason. She looked confused. She looked beautiful. She looked like she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her, but that might have been a whole lot of wishful thinking on his part. She stepped up, nudging her friend out of the way. “Don’t you have to get to set?” she asked as she studied Jason.

  “Not for an hour.”

  Mallory turned her gaze away from Jason and stared at her friend.

  “Fine,” Inez said. She disappeared into the apartment, and Jason could hear things banging around.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Okay,” she said, a little uncertainly. “You?”

  “Good.”

  “Your back?”

  “I got a steroid shot.”

  Inez reappeared with a bag slung over her shoulder. She glared at Jason as she went out. “Don’t let him sweet talk you,” she said darkly to Mallory.

  “I won’t,” Mallory said, her gaze on Jason. “Come in.” She turned and walked down the hall.

  Jason followed her into a living area painted powder blue. He could see a community pool sparkling through the sliding glass doors. The room was neatly kept, of course. There were some books stacked on a coffee table. Very colorfully embroidered pillows on the couch.

  Mallory did not sit. Neither did Jason. “Sooo,” she said.

  “I hired a new director. Jeff Craig.”

  She frowned. She released the breath she was apparently holding. “He’s the best.”

  “Yeah,” Jason said, nodding. “He wants a complete production redesign, though.”

  “I don’t blame him.”

  “We’re officially behind schedule now.”

  She frowned. “Let me guess. You need me to rework on the schedules before I go.”

  “I need you, Mallory,” he said, his words heartfelt. “But not for that. I didn’t come here for that, obviously.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  “To talk. To explain.”

  “You don’t need to explain,” she said, and looked to the window and the pool beyond.

  “I do. I couldn’t offer you the position of director. I stand by that decision. You need more experience before you can tackle a project like this.”

  “I know,” she said softly.

  “But I can’t ignore your goals, either. When you love someone, you can’t ignore that.”