‘Totally. You could shoot so many different scenes there and every single one would be next level. It’s where they stash the loot from a heist.’
‘Or a supervillain’s evil lair,’ he adds, yes-and-ing me.
‘Oh my god, for sure,’ I reply with a laugh – this issofun. It’s rare that I get to hang out with someone who’s as much of a movie geek as I am.
‘What about the end of a psychological thriller?’ I suggest. ‘There’s a massive twist and these two people are getting into it and their faces are lit from beneath with that incredibleblue. That would be frigging awesome.’
‘It would be,’ he agrees. ‘Or… it’s a romantic scene – maybe two people who met unexpectedly… It’d be the perfect location for a first kiss.’
I’m rendered completely speechless – a speechless tub of mashed potato.
First kiss?!
Oh man, I am inserioustrouble.
11
NICK
It’s obvious where Delaney’s mind goes – the flush of her cheeks and her mouth turning into an O. I wasn’t talking aboutus, of course – but in hindsight, I should have chosen my words more carefully.
‘Sorry, I didn’t to imply thatwe…’
‘No, no – course not,’ she says, breaking out of her stupor. But I can tell she’s unconvinced – I’ll have to tell her about the screenplay.
‘I’ve written something,’ I say. ‘A love story.’
She shifts from shocked to gobsmacked, tittering nervously before regaining her composure.
‘Okay, and that meanswhatexactly?’ she asks. ‘What have you written, a book?’
‘A screenplay.’
I study her closely, drawing from years of people-watching to translate the nuances of her expression. Her eyes lighting up, widening slightly, then narrowing again; the gentle upturn of her mouth; the breathy exhale; the double blink as she connects the dots – it all comes together as amazement, then excitement.
‘No fucking way – you dark horse, you,’ she says with unbridled admiration. ‘Well, I wanna read it.’
‘What?’ I burst out laughing – mostly from disbelief. ‘That wasn’t how I thought you’d respond.’
‘What did you think I’d say?’
‘Oh, I don’t know – you’d be polite, considering our…situation– probably ask me to email it to you with some vague promise of getting to it when you had time. Have your assistant’s assistant read it, then maybe – months from now – send me a polite rejection.’
‘Fuck that – and that’s not the prosecco talking.’
‘It can’t be – you spilt most of it down your front.’
‘Bahaha,’ she laughs. ‘You’re a funny guy, Nick.’
‘So I’ve been told – by you – yesterday.’
Apparently, that’s the funniest thing anyone has ever said, because Delaney starts laughing so hard, the only sound coming out of her is a wheezy squeak.
And it’s infectious, because it’s not long beforeI’mlaughing so hard, I can barely breathe and my abs are screaming at me. That’s how the skipper finds us when he comes back on deck.
He stops halfway up the companionway and watches us, his mouth widening into a smile.
‘You have a nice time?’ he asks, stepping onto the deck.