“You’ve not done it. Her father just left a message with me, and he’s anxious.”
Serena Carragher is the daughter of one of our biggest clients, and is about to direct her feature film debut. I was supposed to give her a list of our best female actresses to audition, and retain wonderful nepotistic relations all around. I didn’t. Mainly because I’ve spent the past week in a daze, and work doesn’t complete itself no matter how much you stare at a whiskey glass or out of a window.
“I…I’m sorry. I’ll do it now…right now…I promise,” I say, already shuffling papers as if every second counts – which at this point is almost true.
“Nate,” Robinson commands, the rigidity in his voice telling me he’s got more to say about it. “Is something wrong? I wouldn’t expect that sort of negligence from an intern – let alone my top performer.”
I look up at him and let my shoulders sink a little before looking aside out of the window and shaking my head slowly.
“It’s…it’s Tessa.”
“Mm-hmm,” Robinson nods, as if he knew it already.
“We’re…we broke up.”
Robinson’s face is steely, before suddenly breaking into a frustrated “Damnit!” If we weren’t talking about something so difficult for me I’d find it funny how he reacts as if he’s affected himself. “Can’t you fix things up? How bad is it?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t. I…it’ll just take some time, I suppose, to find out if there’s a chance for us to patch things up. For now I’m at a loss.” As I say the words, I know they’re true. And it surprises me how much I want to believe in them.
“Mm-hmm. Well, in the meantime I can give the Carragher list to—”
“No. I can handle that. I have half of it done already. It’ll be sent by lunchtime. I promise.”
“Okay,” Robinson nods, skeptical but trusting. “But I’d strongly advise you to take a few days off. Samuel has plenty of time to take on extra work, and he’s keen to prove himself. You need to focus on what’s important, right now. Tessa’s the kind of woman you find once in a lifetime. Believe me, I’d know.”
“I know,” I say, wondering how what was once a funny, goofy charade turned into something genuinely troubling. Surprised that I’m at a point now where Robinson’s advice is actually kind of welcome. “I’ll try to get it together.”
Will’s already at the bar when I get there, and as I step through the doors I suddenly remember it’s the same one Jessie met us in. Wearing those tight gym clothes, her skin shiny with sweat…even memories like that come with a stinging aftertaste where they once felt so sweet. I move toward Will, who somehow notices me despite the winks and smiles he’s shooting across the room to a brunette in a miniskirt.
“Nate!” he says, patting me on the back as I take the stool beside him. “I’ve already bought you a drink, and there is plenty more where that came from. For tonight, everything you partake of shall be bought by me.”
“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” I mumble as I down the glass and immediately gesture to the bartender for another.
“I am in a fantastic mood, Nate. And I owe all of it to you. In this past week I have not only begun shooting on a film which will relaunch my career, but I also received a rather lucrative advertising contract too. The narrative of the teen drama star reinvigorating his career as a serious actor has begun – and it’s all your fault.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Seriously, Nate, I cannot express how much I love you right now. It’s bordering on the homoerotic.”
I raise an eyebrow in his direction. He laughs and slaps another hand on my back.
“Don’t worry. I heard that your life is changing as dramatically as mine. A little birdie tells me that you’ve gone and got yourself a girlfriend – or should I say, a girl has gone and got you.”
Will raises a glass and a smile. Reluctantly I grab my whiskey and clink it against his.
“You heard wrong.”
“Hm?” Will says, his attention already taken again by the brunette. “Your boss told me you’d brought that Jessie girl to the retreat, and seemed rather close. I didn’t think for a second you’d actually go and have a relationship with the girl, but she was certainly something special. And considering you persistently refused my requests to play wingman on my bombing runs the past few weeks, I thought it was a done deal.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” I say, draining the second whiskey and exhaling up at the ceiling as it starts to numb the pain inside.
“How so?” Will says, giving up on the brunette entirely now to focus on me.
“I don’t even know the answer to that myself. It just got real messy. It’s over now, anyway.”
“I see,” Will says, before asking the barman for some beer chasers. “You were friends, you said? Childhood friends?”