Picture Perfect. Kate Forster

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      He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment. ‘Good for you. Most people shit themselves when they meet me,’ he said, almost proudly.

      ‘Should I be impressed or concerned for them?’ she asked. ‘I’m sure there’s an operation for that.’

      Jeff’s expression changed from steely to resigned, and he rewarded her with the flicker of a smile. What a shame he was such a bastard, thought Zoe, before his voice broke into her thoughts.

      ‘Greene, listen to me, I have to have this book. I can make the movie a huge hit.’

      ‘So can Harvey, Brian or David,’ she said, listing the other studio heads who had all offered her meetings since word had spread that she had Hugh Cavell in her managerial stable.

      ‘Yeah, but why would you work with those morons? My studio will make the best picture—you know it and I know it—so stop playing games. What does the guy want? Money? A shot at writing the script? Casting approval?’

      Zoe sat back in the leather seat and crossed her legs. ‘Yes, he wants all of those things, and the other studios have already offered them.’

      ‘So, what the fuck else does he want then?’ Jeff looked impatiently at his Breitling watch.

      Zoe paused for effect. She might not be an actor, but she knew how to play the role.

      ‘Actually, Hugh wants me as the lead EP on the film,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t trust anyone to produce it, unless I’m involved.’

      ‘What?’ Jeff recoiled as if she had just announced she was pregnant with his child.

      ‘You heard me,’ she said calmly.

      A passing waiter placed two flutes of champagne in front of them, but Jeff pushed his away.

      ‘Scotch, neat,’ he snarled at the waiter, who retreated as though stung.

      Zoe, glad for the distraction, picked up her glass and took a sip, trying to not let her hand shake. Show him nothing, she reminded herself, not how much you want it, and certainly not how much you care.

      Jeff looked Zoe up and down dismissively.

      ‘Come on, Greene, get real. You’re a fucking talent manager not an executive producer. ‘

      ‘Yes, I am.’ Zoe wasn’t insulted. She represented some of the biggest stars in town and could pull a deal together faster than any of her peers. She knew her own worth. ‘But that’s about to change.’

      ‘You’ve got no runs on the board,’ he said. ‘What else can you bring to this besides the author?’

      ‘My expertise, my people skills, my industry knowledge. I’m good at what I do.’

      Jeff rolled his eyes. ‘You and everyone else in this room,’ he scoffed.

      Zoe sipped more champagne and felt the amber liquid roll down her throat, hoping it would be an elixir of courage. ‘It’s simple, Jeff. The book comes with me attached as EP, that’s what Hugh and I have agreed, so don’t even think about going over my head. We have a contract even you couldn’t pull apart.’

      Jeff was silent. Zoe pushed her chair back and stood up.

      ‘Think about it and call my office tomorrow if you’re interested, my assistant Paul will patch you through to my cell,’ she said, and made to walk away from the table.

      ‘Sit down and don’t make a scene,’ he snapped and again, she did as he asked.

      Who needs who more? she wondered, as she felt the eyes of passing guests on them and saw waitstaff nervously pacing nearby, ready for the snap of Jeff’s temper.

      There was silence, each one holding their cards close to their chest.

      ‘So you want to make movies, huh?’ Jeff asked finally with a sigh, as though she had just asked for the right to vote. ‘Not many women make it in this business. Do you think you can handle it?’

      ‘Don’t patronize me because I’m a woman,’ she said politely. ‘I can do any job as well as a man.’

      ‘I’m not. I don’t care what’s between your legs,’ he laughed. ‘I want to know you can handle the bullshit and the drama when your leading stars hate each other and I’m screaming at you on the phone and the director’s losing the plot and you haven’t slept in a week.’

      Zoe smiled. ‘My film wouldn’t be like that,’ she stated.

      ‘Oh, really?’ Jeff smiled now, and he stared at her for a long time. ‘Why’s that?’

      ‘Because I would make sure everything was sorted before we got to set,’ she said, knowing she sounded naïve but she believed in thinking ahead, her whole life she had had to be one step ahead of everyone else.

      Jeff pulled at the cuffs on his shirt, a glimpse of silver cufflinks caught the light and Zoe’s eye.

      ‘You can’t always be prepared for what happens while making a movie,’ said Jeff. ‘Life throws curveballs at all of us, even me.’

      Zoe felt the room’s eyes on her, the sound of gossip and conjecture about why Zoe and Jeff were talking so intently. She heard laughter and some music, and somewhere a glass smashed but it was Jeff’s eyes boring into hers that steadied her.

      ‘Why do you want to make this movie, Greene?’ he asked.

      ‘Because it’s the most beautiful book I’ve ever read,’ she answered truthfully.

      Jeff squinted and frowned and then he rolled his eyes and Zoe laughed as she continued.

      ‘And because it’s box office gold: the man who learns about love only after his wife is declared terminally ill? I mean, what about that isn’t perfect chick-flick fodder?’

      ‘And the author, do you think he can write a decent script?’

      ‘Yes, I think he can write a great script,’ she replied, crossing her fingers under the table.

      Jeff swilled the Scotch in his glass, drained the last of it, and then cleared his throat.

      ‘This is the biggest hit in books since fuck knows what,’ he said. ‘I want it to be the best movie Palladium Pictures has ever produced, do you understand? This is the movie people will talk about when I die.’

      Zoe nodded, secretly marvelling at Jeff’s ego. Did he come to Hollywood with that intact or did he earn it?

      ‘I understand,’ she said and then she appealed to his ego. ‘And this is why I’m coming to you,’ she said. ‘I want to learn from you.’

      Jeff watched her as she sipped her drink, his eyes narrowed.

      ‘How old are you?’ he asked rudely, but Zoe didn’t flinch.

      ‘Thirty-six,’ she said.

      ‘You’re СКАЧАТЬ