He hasn’t heard? Gene must really be out of the loop like Betsy promised he’d be. ‘I’m at my gran’s in Santorini. Hank made me redundant two days after you left.’
He clucks his tongue. ‘Ach. I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s OK, I didn’t really love his … energy.’
Gene laughs. ‘Me either. But I—’ He’s distracted by someone talking in the background. His words are muffled but I can still make them out.No, it’s not work. It’s a work colleague.
Gene’s wife Betsy had high hopes he’d forget about the industry and all those long days that turned into nights. He admitted to me his marriage suffered over the years because he was always working and he regrets not putting Betsy first more often.
OK, OK, I’ll be ready in a minute.
‘Sorry to cut this short, Evie. We’ve got lunch plans at the club and God forbid we’re five minutes late.’
‘That’s OK. Just quickly, do you know of any book scout positions going?’
He lets out a sad sigh. ‘I’m out of the biz. Betsy – my commandant – makes sure of it. I’m sorry. I wish I could help.’ Betsy’s voice rings out, something about keeping the Goldbergs waiting.
‘No worries, Gene. Enjoy your lunch.’
We say our goodbyes and I feel a rush of sadness for Gene. Maybe it’s for the best – for health and relationship reasons – but he lived and breathed the movie biz. You can’t say the word Hollywood without conjuring Gene’s grandfatherly smiley face. It feels a bit unfair he can’t chat properly for five minutes, but perhaps Betsy has to make these boundaries for them both to enjoy their twilight years together.
My last hope is dashed. Gene is a no-go. It’s time to return to Hollywood. Pound the pavement. Scary but necessary if I want to achieve my dream.
I won’t let myself down by backing out of the one important promise I made myself: to find magical romances and get them onto the silver screen. If I start breaking my own promises, then where does it end? I shake it away for now. There’s work to be done here.
I check the bar and replace the library catalogue coasters with new ones that have a picture of Joe and a hook line about his upcoming book. I scatter Epeolatry bookmarks. Life moves slow and yet is whizzing by. I can’t help but feel a clock is ticking, reminding me that I’ve got other challenges to face. Great big fun Hollywood challenges.
I’m standing hands on hips, assessing the room, when Georgios wanders in from the bookshop, Sir Spud trotting just ahead as if leading his charge to me. I lift Sir Spud for a cuddle, nesting my face into his fur.
‘Floretta told me where to find you.’ For a moment my breath catches at the sight of Georgios, hair mussed by the sea breeze, skin tanned darker by all these long summer days.
I check my watch. ‘You’re early. Joe isn’t starting until seven.’
Lily wanders in and paws his leg, her subtle way of asking to be held. She won’t go near any man bar Georgios. She pines for him when he leaves, stands at the gate and howls as if she’s heartbroken he’s left her behind. There are times I wonder if Georgios should adopt her, she is so taken with him. He bends to her and croons, speaking gently as if she’s the most precious thing in the world – gah I can see why she’s fallen for him. He gently takes her in his arms and she gazes up adoringly. Even dogs are under his spell!
Once Lily is settled he lifts his gaze to me. ‘I’ll meet Joe later. I’m here to see you. Are we OK, Evie? I can’t help but feel you’ve been avoiding me.’
I lift a shoulder. ‘We’ve been texting.’
‘We went from catching up a few times a day to a few texts …’
‘Oh.’ I toy with a bookmark to look anywhere but directly at him.
Do I tell Georgios the truth now? Get it over and done with fast, like ripping off a plaster. There’s a forlorn air about him as if he’s expecting the worst. Is he similar to me and can spend days agonising over things?
I blurt out, ‘Do you see a future with me?’God, Evie!This is what happens when you don’t have a plan and Gran’s warnings about being eighty-three in the blink of an eye and still single bubble inside your brain. Now I can’t go back and we’ll have to have the talk.
His lips twitch. Why? Is it funny? Ridiculous. Too presumptuous? I resist the urge to run. I’m not going to run ever again. I’ll stand my ground and shout the loudest if I have to.
He folds his arms. ‘Neither of us know what the future holds, but if we can make it work, I’d love to.’
I deflate. The answer is so lacklustre, so vague, I don’t know what to make of it. ‘Is that – a yes? Can you explain to me where you stand when it comes to us?’ This is why deep and meaningfuls are best done over email. That way I can forensically pore over the nuance of every word.
He drops his hands to his sides. ‘It’s a hell yes.’
I exhale. There are times when Georgios is just as bad at peopling as I am. It makes me like him more. A flawed hero is the best hero. One who doesn’t have it all together. A work in progress. It’s my turn to speak up but my chest tightens, trapping the truth inside. ‘OK, umm then that’s one query answered.’
With a grin he says, ‘Do you have other queries, Evie?’
