she said, knowing she sounded naïve but she believed in thinking ahead, her whole life she had to be one step ahead of everyone else.
Jeff pulled at the cuffs on his shirt, a glimpse of silver cufflinks caught the light and Zoe’s eye.
‘You can’t always be prepared for what happens while making a movie,’ said Jeff, ‘Life throws curveballs at all of us, even me.’
Zoe felt the room’s eyes on her, the sound of gossip and conjecture about why Zoe and Jeff were talking so intently. She heard laughter and some music, and somewhere a glass smashed but it was Jeff’s eyes boring into hers that steadied her.
‘Why do you want to make this movie Greene?’ he asked.
‘Because it’s the most beautiful book I’ve ever read,’ she answered truthfully.
Jeff squinted and frowned and then he rolled his eyes and Zoe laughed as she continued.
‘
And
because its box office gold, the man who learns about love only after his wife is declared terminally ill? I mean, what about that isn’t perfect chick flick fodder?’
‘And the author, do you think he can write a decent script?’
‘Yes, I think he can write a great script,’ she replied, crossing her fingers under the table.
Jeff swilled the scotch in his glass, drained the last of it, then cleared his throat.
‘This is the biggest hit in books since fuck knows what,’ he said. ‘I want this to be the best movie Palladium Pictures has ever produced, do you understand? This is the movie people will talk about when I die.’
Zoe nodded, secretly marvelling at Jeff’s ego. Did he come to Hollywood with that intact or did he earn it?
‘I understand,’ she said and then she appealed to his ego. ‘And this is why I’m coming to you,’ she said. ‘I want to learn from you.’
Jeff watched her as she sipped her drink, his eyes narrowed.
‘How old are you?’ he asked rudely, but Zoe didn’t flinch.
‘Thirty-six,’ she said.
‘You’re too old for me.’
‘Zoe laughed, ‘I don’t want to date you, I want you to teach me. You’re the perfect age to be my wise old teacher,’ she said with a cheeky smile and she saw a flash of displeasure cross his face.
‘I thought you weren’t into men?’
He smirked, but she swallowed her temper.
‘Oh, I am into men, just not old ones,’ she said. ‘I prefer to leave them to the piranhas with silicone breasts and gold digging dreams.
Jeff laughed, ‘God knows there are plenty of those fish in the sea, I even married a few of them.’ Then he looked up at her, his face unreadable ‘But not many like you, it seems.’
She sensed Jeff’s respect that she could hold her own.
‘Every agent, manager and motherfucker in LA was after this Brit. How the hell did you get him to sign with you, Greene?’
Zoe thought about her trip to London. She remembered the taxi ride to Hugh’s little house and the desolate, drunken state in which she had found him. She had been shocked. The guy was so self-destructive he made Hemingway seem like a lightweight, but for some reason he had trusted Zoe. She had cleaned him up, brought him back to LA in secret, and rented him a secluded, light-filled house in Malibu where he could write, and dry out.
She hadn’t even told Maggie Hugh was in LA. All she knew was once she heard his story, she knew he had to get out of London.
‘He trusts me,’ was all she said with a shrug.
Jeff nodded and shook his head. ‘You know I’m gonna try to screw you on the backend deal,’ he said.
‘You can try, but I doubt you’ll succeed,’ she answered, and for a brief moment, she saw respect in his eyes.
‘Come and see me tomorrow. I’ll get my assistant to call yours,’ he said.
‘So we have a deal?’ Zoe asked.
‘No, we don’t have a fucking deal! I asked for a meeting, not to fucking marry you.’
Zoe resisted the urge to punch him in his handsome face.
‘Okay, then you won’t mind if I go and meet with Harvey before you?’ she asked, using one of her last
Jeff pulled at the cuffs on his shirt, a glimpse of silver cufflinks caught the light and Zoe’s eye.
‘You can’t always be prepared for what happens while making a movie,’ said Jeff, ‘Life throws curveballs at all of us, even me.’
Zoe felt the room’s eyes on her, the sound of gossip and conjecture about why Zoe and Jeff were talking so intently. She heard laughter and some music, and somewhere a glass smashed but it was Jeff’s eyes boring into hers that steadied her.
‘Why do you want to make this movie Greene?’ he asked.
‘Because it’s the most beautiful book I’ve ever read,’ she answered truthfully.
Jeff squinted and frowned and then he rolled his eyes and Zoe laughed as she continued.
‘
And
because its box office gold, the man who learns about love only after his wife is declared terminally ill? I mean, what about that isn’t perfect chick flick fodder?’
‘And the author, do you think he can write a decent script?’
‘Yes, I think he can write a great script,’ she replied, crossing her fingers under the table.
Jeff swilled the scotch in his glass, drained the last of it, then cleared his throat.
‘This is the biggest hit in books since fuck knows what,’ he said. ‘I want this to be the best movie Palladium Pictures has ever produced, do you understand? This is the movie people will talk about when I die.’
Zoe nodded, secretly marvelling at Jeff’s ego. Did he come to Hollywood with that intact or did he earn it?
‘I understand,’ she said and then she appealed to his ego. ‘And this is why I’m coming to you,’ she said. ‘I want to learn from you.’
Jeff watched her as she sipped her drink, his eyes narrowed.
‘How old are you?’ he asked rudely, but Zoe didn’t flinch.
‘Thirty-six,’ she said.
‘You’re too old for me.’
‘Zoe laughed, ‘I don’t want to date you, I want you to teach me. You’re the perfect age to be my wise old teacher,’ she said with a cheeky smile and she saw a flash of displeasure cross his face.
‘I thought you weren’t into men?’
He smirked, but she swallowed her temper.
‘Oh, I am into men, just not old ones,’ she said. ‘I prefer to leave them to the piranhas with silicone breasts and gold digging dreams.
Jeff laughed, ‘God knows there are plenty of those fish in the sea, I even married a few of them.’ Then he looked up at her, his face unreadable ‘But not many like you, it seems.’
She sensed Jeff’s respect that she could hold her own.
‘Every agent, manager and motherfucker in LA was after this Brit. How the hell did you get him to sign with you, Greene?’
Zoe thought about her trip to London. She remembered the taxi ride to Hugh’s little house and the desolate, drunken state in which she had found him. She had been shocked. The guy was so self-destructive he made Hemingway seem like a lightweight, but for some reason he had trusted Zoe. She had cleaned him up, brought him back to LA in secret, and rented him a secluded, light-filled house in Malibu where he could write, and dry out.
She hadn’t even told Maggie Hugh was in LA. All she knew was once she heard his story, she knew he had to get out of London.
‘He trusts me,’ was all she said with a shrug.
Jeff nodded and shook his head. ‘You know I’m gonna try to screw you on the backend deal,’ he said.
‘You can try, but I doubt you’ll succeed,’ she answered, and for a brief moment, she saw respect in his eyes.
‘Come and see me tomorrow. I’ll get my assistant to call yours,’ he said.
‘So we have a deal?’ Zoe asked.
‘No, we don’t have a fucking deal! I asked for a meeting, not to fucking marry you.’
Zoe resisted the urge to punch him in his handsome face.
‘Okay, then you won’t mind if I go and meet with Harvey before you?’ she asked, using one of her last
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