Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
For now, though, I focus on Mason as he rattles off details about the meeting. When the town car he ordered arrives five minutes later, my head is reeling.
Still, I know better than to get excited about Hollywood.
Just like Mason taught me.
Only, it’s not just a meeting. It’s more like a full-court press in the sunlit, floor-to-ceiling glass conference room overlooking Beverly Hills.
CTM’s catering brings in Costa Rican coffee, blueberries, and an assortment of kale-based snacks. Jude will get such a kick out of this when I tell him about the spread later.
Even though Mason prepped me, I’m still a little surprised to see Robert Walsh from the theater the other night. I was sure nothing would come of bumping into him. But after hellos, he takes a seat next to Kristen. Mason’s zoomed in on Kristen’s iPad.
The producer from Webflix leans forward in the orange chair, shaking his head in disbelief. “I literally can’t stand how much I love this story.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” I’m still gobsmacked and sound like it.
Robert shoots me an intense stare. “Let me make it clear. I love it as much as my dog.”
“And his dog has a private chef,” Mason chimes in.
“Rocco, the Fiercest Chihuahua, has a personal trainer too,” Kristen supplies with a smile. “Tell us what your vision is for the show, Robert.”
“We’ll stay as true to the book as possible,” Robert says, then stretches his hands out like he’s framing a marquee. “After the prologue when they meet, I see the camera pans to an establishing shot, Greenwich Village. Close-up on our hero. He’s working on one of his cartoons when his best-friend-turned-business-manager saunters into their artsy office, tells him about the deal he just booked for our hero’s illustrations. Then, we cut to the guys celebrating that night with ping-pong and beer at their favorite bar. In walks the other hero—duh duh duuun—the best friend’s brother. Our hero has been crushing on him since that day in the prologue. AKA for-evah.”
It’s too good to be true. I know Mason’s mantra, he’s repeated it ever since my book took off, so I do my best to stay super chill.
But man, it’s really fucking hard when this guy tells me that Webflix loves my story and wants to make a deal.
Maybe I do finally understand musicals because it’s also really hard not to burst into, well, an epic rock song right the hell now.
Especially when Robert shakes my hand at the end of the meeting. “I know this seems like luck because we ran into each other at the play. But it’s not luck. Your book is gold, and we’re going to mine it and give it a good home. I promise you that.”
“I’m just glad you enjoyed the story,” I say. That’s about as much as I can process right now.
When he leaves, Kristen mimes her head exploding. “Some deals are the LA freeway system. Some are the autobahn. That deal is a Bugatti on the autobahn.”
I don’t even know what to say to her. It’s all too much. Too Hollywood. Too unbelievable.
I thank her then slip my cell phone out of my pocket to snap a shot of the catering spread before I leave. I slide into the town car a minute later, my bones buzzing. When we’re on the road, I call Mason back. “So, what did you think?”
“I think armadillos suit you, and so does LA. You look happy, so I’m guessing you needed sunshine. And . . . Robert just called to say he’s sending a term sheet over tonight.”
This feels so unreal. But as the car slogs through traffic, I’m struck by one more revelation. Even though I usually keep this shit to myself, I want to tell Jude.
I want to let him know about my crazy day. Find out what he thinks about it.
But I also don’t want him to get weird like Flynn did. Or, really, like Jude kinda did on Sunday at the café.
Except, it should be okay if Jude has his own feelings about this maybe-kinda-sorta deal. He’s an artist. I get that. But he’s shown me his wounds; he’s opened up about his sore spots. If I want to be a damn good boyfriend, I need to share things in a way that shows I give a shit about his sensitive heart too.
Share in a way that says, Hey babe, what do you think? and not, look at me, look at me!
If there’s one thing I know about Jude, it’s that he likes fun, sex, books, and food he can eat.
And, well, me. He likes me.
I send him a text.
TJ: Hey, want to go to the Silver Spinner Neon Bowling Lanes and see if you can beat me? Then, sushi? Just the fish for you, though, babe. I’ll happily eat all your rice.