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“I haven’t. Not once. I’ve been asked so many times. TV companies still approach me now, but… I wasn’t ready.”
“And you are now?” The interest pitching Mitch’s voice makes my heart hammer as self-doubt creeps in.
“I don’t know. Maybe… I haven’t decided. I’m almost finished writing it. Doing it hasbeen a huge… relief.”
Mum squeezes my hand, and I smile at her gratefully.
“I know people who would snap that up, Ava. It’s an incredible story. We could make sure you retain all creative rights, be involved in the casting.”
“It’s a big decision,” Mum says softly as the server returns with our drinks and places them down. “Not one to be made in haste.”
“Of course,” Mitch agrees. “Think about it, Ava. This could be huge for you, make a lot of money, make you famous. I have the connections to make it all happen.”
I swallow down the unease that’s manifested itself into a tight knot in my throat. Everything I’ve kept to myself for ten years could be shared with the world.
Be seen.
I’m not sure I’m ready for it. What if I never am?
I force a smile. “I’ll think about it.”
Mitch and my mother move into talking about her upcoming audition and I allow myself to be swept up in her excitement again as I sip my grapefruit juice. It’s not my favorite brand, but the sharp tang makes me think of Jet.
I pull my phone out of my purse. A spark of energy shoots up my spine as I see his name on the screen.
Jet: What are you doing today?
I toy with the idea of making him wait before I reply. But I’ve missed knowing what the moody bastard is up to. We’ve spent so much time together recently that him not beinghere is… weird.
Me: Having lunch with Mum and her agent/boyfriend. You?
Jet: Callaghan is coming back to the US in a few days. We’re preparing contracts for him to sign.
Me: For all the engines? He’s agreed? That’s amazing!
Jet: Not yet. But he will.
Me: Sounds like everyone’s busy at your office.
Jet: Like Tasmanian devils on speed.
I smile. I bet he’s cracking the whip. Jet Grant in full suited control-mode.
Me: Yet you have time to text me? You’re getting distracted.
I add a smirking emoji before I click send. His response is instant.
Jet: I wish my face was being distracted between your thighs right now.
I inhale my water, spluttering and spilling some. Mum and Mitch look at me but carry on talking when I signal I’m fine and grab a napkin to pat my lips.
Me: What will HR say if they read the dirty things you send to your employees on your company phone, Mr. Grant?
Jet: Employees is plural.
Me: You mean I’m the only special one allowed to distract the boss?
Jet: Don’t be a brat, Ava.
