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He sits down in the chair next to me and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. Times like these, he reminds me of his father. “Think about the target audience here, Henry. Sure, you’ll have teens and young people seeing this movie who will have no idea who you are. But the majority of the viewers are people who are so invested in Mr. Darcy’s story that they will be critical of not only the movie itself but the entire production. Those viewers may know your name, and if they don’t already, they will once production starts. Advertising has changed. Every step of this movie’s production will be broadcast on social media.”
This shouldn’t be a matter of public opinion based on my personal life. Sure, I’ve done nothing to hide it, but my work should be the only thing considered when deciding who will direct this. “So it’s settled then? They have another director?” I ask.
“No. From what I’ve been told, they are having trouble finding someone with a clean personal life who does work as well as you.”
“You think there is time to change their minds?”
“Possibly…sleep on it. I’m not sure how we can erase how you’ve been spending the last couple of years, though.” I don’t imagine I’ll be able to get much sleep with this over my head.
Nine
LUCY
The entiretyof my Sunday is spent trying to distract myself from the infuriating interaction I had with Henry this morning. It’s none of my business if he decided to spend the night with one of those women and do a very proud walk of shame the following morning. But did he really have to do it in front of my apartment? I would have rather assumed that’s how he spent his evening rather than have proof first thing in the morning.
Now, I’m left wondering which of the women did he leave with, or it could have been multiple women. I know who he is, and he has never denied it. In fact, he has bragged about it. It shouldn’t bother me at all who he spent his night with, after all, I did encourage it. There’s just some small part of me that enjoyed him speaking into my ear with my hand on his leg last night.
This is why I stick to fictional men!
What was he insinuating by saying I would have had a great night?
Who knows how things could have ended?
Was he suggesting I could have found someone to go home with? Surely, he didn’t mean I may have gone home with him.
I could call Ellie for her opinion, but she would run wild with that exchange and even more if I shared our close conversation from last night with her.
Instead, I end up on the phone with my mom and little does she know, the call is greatly appreciated. I think she begins to be suspicious when I am far more interested in the Thanksgiving Day preparations than I have ever been before. I ask and debate each and every option of pie and sweets from our favorite local bakery, contemplate the shopping list for our dinners, and review the flight schedule multiple times.
When I finally end our call, my head feels a little clearer, that is, until I see a text message from Finn and notice a new number has been added to our group chat.
A photo and link to an article fill the text box. The photo is of Henry leaving the bar last night hand-in-hand with one of the blondes from the bar. Well, at least I don’t have to wonder which one it was anymore. Under the photo comes another text.
Finn
Is this our new mom?
A couple minutes of silence pass then a message comes in from Oliver. It’s a photo of Henry on his walk of shame this morning.
Oliver
I’m going to guess no. I bet she tossed him out when she learned she’d have to deal with the two of us as sons!
That text received multiple laughing emojis from Mia and Hannah. Still no response from the unknown number, but I am starting to suspect it could be Henry. Then, the conversation turns to me.
Finn
Makes me wonder if Lucy truly had a headache last night. Could it be that she also snuck off on a secret rendezvous with a mystery lover?
Mia
*big eyes emoji*
Lucy
I shouldn’t admit this since there isn’t any photographic evidence, but yes. You figured it out. I spent the entire evening thinking of one man, and I rushed home to get in bed with him!
I quickly snap a photo of my well-read copy ofPersuasionon my pillow and send it to the group. Everyone, including the unknown number, adds a laughing emoji reaction to my photo.
