“It sounds an awful lot like a really bigdate.”
“Think of it as a work date. A workation. We can polish up the script when we’re there and celebrate Manhattan-style when we’ve sent it off to theagents.”
Temporary writing partner. Not your girlfriend. It’s fine for me to say it but when you say it it’s mean…“Family,huh?”
“I’m not going to lie to you, a lot of them are rich assholes. I mean I know you think that’s what I am, but they’re ten times worse. My mom’s mostly sweet. My cousin who’s getting married is great. Natalie, she’s awesome, you’d like her. She’s marrying a British guy. It would mean a lot to me if you were there, so I could actually enjoy it, and I think it would be fun for you, to hang out in NYC. Take abreak.”
“I’ll think aboutit.”
“Good.”
“Okay I’ve thought about it. I’ll go. But only because it’s NewYork.”
This could be dangerous. I always feel like I’m in love when I’m in New York, because I get so caught up in the energy of it. What if I get confused and think it’s Braddock and not Manhattan that’s making me feel thatway?
Still, it’s a sweet offer. I put my hand on his thigh and lean in towardshim.
He looks down at my hand on his thigh, and then up at me. He shakes his head. “Work. No fooling around until we have an amazing seconddraft.”
“Well. We don’t have to start on the next drafttonight.”
“Yes we do. We need to sell this thing ASAP and make you some dough.” He seems very earnest. It’s cute. He removes my hand from his thigh. “Get to work, you little sex maniac. We can’t work our asses off and fuck each other’s brains out at the same time, we aren’t in collegeanymore.”
This makes me laugh. “Okay, Gramps. Should we have a bowl of oatmeal and some prunes with Metamucil for dinner instead ofItalian?”
He doesn’t even riff on my joke. He’s opened up his laptop. “How about I type up the nextdraft?”
“Seriously, we need to order something now I’mstarving.”
“Grab some trail mix from the kitchen, I’ve got an idea for the opening scene I want to run through with you before I forgetit.”
He’s notjoking.
“Hurry up—let’s work on the opening and then we’ll break fordinner.”
I have created a monster. “Fine. But the second draft will have an Attack of the Cornish Game Hens scene, and it will scare the pants off of you. And not in a sexyway.”
His eyes don’t even leave his laptop screen. “Open for discussion. Opening scene first. It needs to be killer. Let’s dothis.”
The next morning,I call my parents, to let them know I’ll be going to New York for a weekend. When I tell them that I will be going with Scott Braddock, and that I have written a script with him, I can hear my mother almostfainting.
My Mom will never forgive my first love for dumping me, but she adores Scott Braddock. Ever since my first month at Emerson. He’d seen me walking around campus, giving my parents the tour, and he came over to introduce himself and said (drum roll plus eye roll please): “Erin, you didn’t tell me you had a sister.” Plus, he kept calling my Dad “sir.” My mom said, as soon as he left, that that was the kind of young man I should be dating. I didn’t tell her about the Brianna situation years later. I definitely haven’t told her that he and I have recently been sexually intercoursing. But she is actually starting to get emotional in fantasy anticipation of my upcoming nuptials—which is why I have avoided calling her and telling her about my professional involvement with Scott untilnow.
“Oh sweetheart,” she’s making an effort to sound less than ecstatic. “You soundhappy.”
“What? No Idon’t.”
“You do. You sound happy and satisfied. I can picture yousmiling.”
“I’m not smiling rightnow.”
“You’re smiling on theinside.”
“He treats you right, this fella?” I had forgotten my dad was still on the phone. He’d gone quiet as soon as I mentioned I was going to New York with aboy.
“Yes,Dad.”
“Of course he does, he’s a gentleman, youremember.”
