We settle in. Thankfully the couch is large enough to seat about fifteen people, so I’m careful to leave a cushion of distance between Grayson and me. He smirks, as if he knows exactly what I’m trying to do, but doesn’t close the gap.
“Trey, get the schedules, will you?” Sloan smiles as he takes a seat, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table. He’s wearing loose-fitted yoga pants and sipping his disgusting looking green smoothie. He catches me eyeing it. “Kale, spinach, and unsweetened almond milk. It’s a power blend. Loads of electrolytes. You want one? I can have Annabelle whip one up for you.”
Even setting aside the odds that Annabelle would spit into my smoothie, there is literally nothing in the world that could entice me to drink that foul mixture. I don’t care how healthy it is. The only blender drink I’m interested in contains eighty percent Patrón and comes garnished with salt and lime.
“Thanks, I’m good.”
“Anything else?” he prompts. “Water? Kombucha? Black tea?”
Grayson asks for a bottle of water and I do the same, thinking it’s probably safest to consume something with a factory seal as I watch Annabelle stomping off to the mini-fridge on the far side of the studio, more than a little miffed that she’s been demoted to a glorified waitress. If she didn’t hate me before, she definitely hates me now.
Trey passes me a sheet of paper and I scan the list of dates. It’s a rigorous schedule — and a surprising one. Over the next month, we have several radio program sit-downs, in addition to multiple talk show appearances and advanced-screening film festival events, all leading up to the premiere just before Valentine’s Day. My eyes widen.
“Valentine’s Day?” I ask, startled.
“Yes!” Sloan is smiling. “A bit sooner than we’d planned, perhaps, but it’s an ideal launch date for a romantic drama — sure to draw big bucks from millions of couples in need of a post-dinner flick. The only better option would be a summer release, but frankly then we’d run the risk of our little love story getting lost in the shuffle between the big action-hero blockbusters.”
Annabelle returns with our bottles of water. She shoots me a dark look as she passes one my way,accidentallydropping it before I’ve got a firm grip. It rolls beneath the coffee table. I sigh at her pettiness, but her plan backfires — before I can hunt for it, Grayson bends and retrieves it for me.
He winks as he hands it over, warm fingers grazing mine.
“Thanks,” I murmur, jerking my hand away from his. I unscrew the cap and take a long swig.
He chuckles, then turns to Sloan. There’s a note of concern in his voice. “Valentine’s Day is only six weeks away. Will the film be ready to premiere, by then?”
“It’ll have to be.” Sloan is placid as ever. “Don’t worry, Wyatt has been working on this round the clock.Unchartedis his baby. His passion project. He’ll make sure it’s ready to fly before we send it into the wild.” He blinks, as if just realizing the man in question isn’t present, and glances at Annabelle. “Where is Hastings, anyway? He should be here.”
“His assistant emailed and said he has another commitment—”
Sloan waves away her words. “Call him. Get him over here, now.”
Annabelle huffs and disappears, already dialing.
“We’re letting AXC handle the distribution and they’ve given us the go-ahead for a wide release.” Sloan sounds thrilled by the news. “We’ll be in every theater in the country, come Valentine’s Day.”
“Christ,” Grayson says, echoing my thoughts. “I’m surprised the executives gave a green light so soon. Then again, when your producer’s father owns the company…” He snorts.
“Wyatt’s connections there certainly haven’t hurt us,” Sloan agrees. “But that’s not their only motivation. Their last three romances underperformed, so they’re desperate for a hit. Plus, they thinkUnchartedcould be a smash — there’s potential it’ll stick around in theaters all spring, until the summer blockbusters come out.”
“Assuming the critics don’t pan us,” Grayson murmurs.
“Positivity, Dunn! It’s the key to success.” Sloan peers at me from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “You’re being very quiet, Katharine.”
“Sorry…” I clear my throat. “I’m just…still processing the news.”
Truthfully, I’m stunned by the quick turnaround. I’d assumed the studio would favor a summer release… that there’d be time to figure my life out, before being thrust fully into the spotlight. Apparently, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Sloan’s smile widens. “Well, you’d better process quickly, because your first interview is tomorrow.”
Four
“Dear god, that’s hot.”
- Someone pulling a baked potato from the oven.
By the timeWyatt gets to Sloan’s house, we’ve moved upstairs to the kitchen and are clustered around the marble island munching on snacks put out by a begrudging Annabelle, before she vanished back downstairs to work. Ravenous after the sushi failure earlier this afternoon, I shove crackers into my mouth with gusto while Sloan doles out a game plan for the press tour. Grayson looks bored to tears — he’s done this before, too many times to count — but I soak up as many tips as possible. If anyone messes up an interview, it’s not going to be me.
“We’ll give all the hosts a list of pre-approved questions, but don’t be surprised if some of them attempt to ambush you with unexpected topics and throw you off your game. Nothing makes for better news than a celebrity putting their foot in their mouth.” Sloan sighs heavily. “I’d prefer it if we could get through this without either of you needing to issue a series of deeply apologetic tweets for saying something vaguely offensive that gets blown out of proportion by internet trolls.”