‘Like mine, you mean,’ I say, sitting back. Funny thing about hope – even the tiniest pinprick can obliterate it.
‘No,’ she hurriedly replies. ‘I mean, like the fresh-out-of-college nepo baby whose uncle promises to make their movie. Or the director who’s been sidelined for being an asshole and he’s clawing his way back from oblivion. All studios have these projects – and they foist them on those of us who’ve yet to pay our dues. Like the movie by a female writer–director, who’s far more talented than most of her male counterparts but can’t get a break, so some junior producer’ – she points to herself – ‘lays her whole career on the line to get it made and then it becomes a huge hit.’
‘Which film was that?’
‘Baby Love.’
‘You madeBaby Love?’
She nods, an enormous smile spreading across her face.
‘I loved that film – there’s this sort of quiet elegance to it.’
‘Why, thank you,’ she replies with obvious pride. ‘That’s why I want to make your movie – apart from it being a great script. I want to make a name for myself in the character-driven space, carve out my own little niche.’
I regard her closely, struck by a multitude of her facets at once, but it’s her vision as an artist that stands above the rest.
‘You’re remarkable, do you know that?’
She snorts out a laugh. ‘That sounds like something Finn would say.’
‘Fair, I suppose,’ I say, a little stung that she lobbed the compliment back across the net. ‘He and I share a handful of traits, so that makes sense.’
‘What traitsdon’tyou share?’ she asks, leading us into more serious waters.
I mull it over, though deep down I already know the answer. ‘He’s less concerned about what others think of him than I am.’
‘And whose opinion matters to you most?’ she asks, propping her chin on her hand.
‘Aren’t we supposed to be discussing directors?’ I ask, hoping like hell she lets me off the hook. This isn’t something I want to go into right now.
The waiter comes to clear our plates and I down the rest of my wine. When he leaves, Delaney regards me thoughtfully.
‘Whoseis it?’ she asks, not letting up.
Is there any harm in telling her? There’s every possibility we’ll work together someday – would revealing that I’m the black sheep of the family, that I’m a gross disappointment to my parents, be crossing a line?
More than the line you’ve already crossed?
‘Well,’ I say, throwing what’s left of my caution to the wind. ‘It’s definitely not my two older brothers – both surgeons, both obsessed with luxury cars and the big house and fancy watches – total snobs when it comes to my profession.’
‘Dan isn’t like that, is he?’
‘God no. He’s a “lowly” GP, which suits him and Becks perfectly – frees up time for travel.’
‘Okay, so by process of elimination, we’re talking about your parents?’ she asks.
‘Brilliant deduction,’ I say with a wink. ‘They’reboth surgeons as well – retired now – but there was the expectation that I’d follow in their footsteps and go into the family profession…’
‘Whydo parents do that? It’s so old school. Did they have a family practice or something? Because that would be a little easier to understand.’
‘No, nothing like that – just the presumption that I’d want the same life as them. And to top that off, they pressured me to propose to Pip?—’
Oh, fuck – I didnotsay that.But from the look on Delaney’s face, I absolutely did.
‘Geez,’ she says breathily.
I can’t tell if it’s perfect or disastrous timing that the waiter returns with two small glasses and a bottle ofPassito di Pantelleria, a dessert wine from Sicily. We watch him pour, both feigning fascination, but when he tells us to enjoy and leaves, the silence becomes unbearable.