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Crazy Scripted Love

Page 108

by Elizabeth Drummond

“It is.” He nodded. “His family are super wealthy and he lived here while we were at NYU. Couple years ago, he got a job scoring movies in LA, so I agreed to look after the place.”

I smirked. “A real hardship.”

“The things I do for my friends,” he said with a sardonic grin.

“You’re a saint.”

His hand snaked possessively around my waist, kneaded my hip. “You hungry?”

My stomach rumbled in response. “Apparently.”

“I’ll make you something,” he said, dropping a kiss to my head. “Eggs?”

“Okay.”

After using the bathroom, I padded down the stairs to the kitchen, where Elliot made me scrambled eggs – shirtless – and it was possibly the hottest thing I’d ever seen, after his topless boxing, that is. As I sat at the kitchen island and sipped coffee, I saw the clock.

“Damn,” I said. “It’s almost three.”

Elliot snickered. “No wonder we’re hungry, we lost most of Saturday.”

“I’m not complaining,” I said.

“I need to tell you something.” He slid eggs onto a plate.

“Sounds ominous.”

“No, no,” he assured me. “Sherman quit yesterday.”

I remembered the argument I’d overheard at Silvercup. “The Janis Joplin scene?”

“Was the final straw,” he said with a nod. “And then … I got offered theWoodstockdirector role.”

“As you should be,” I said.

“You don’t seem totally surprised,” he remarked, pushing a plate of eggs on toast my way.

“Sadie may have mentioned that as a solution to the Sherman problem,” I admitted. “Congrats. I think it’s amazing.”

“It’s just for a couple weeks,” he said. “Mostly clean-ups and reshoots. But … it’s something.”

“It’s more than something!” I elbowed him. “It’s a huge show! Is RJ happy it’s resolved?”

Elliot’s face darkened. “Yeah? Maybe. I don’t know. We have a meeting Monday to talk through this new structure. The network is being amazing about it … but RJ’s gone quiet on me.”

I thought back to what Sadie had said, about the way RJ treated his staff. “He might just need to get used to it. I mean, you’re not so much his subordinate now as you are a peer. A director, like him.”

“Huh.” He sat on the stool next to me. “I never saw it like that.”

“You think his ego can handle it?” I asked.

He frowned. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, congratulations anyway.” I pushed a wayward lock of hair away from his face. “You deserve it.”

We ate in companiable silence for a few moments. The eggs were delicious, but I was so hungry I would have eaten anything.

“So,” Elliot said, wolfing back the last piece of toast. “Ralf quit, huh?”