The Right Time

“It’s excellent. He’s going to be very pleased.” She had almost no work to do.

“Why don’t you come to the first reading?” he invited her. It was in a large meeting hall with many chairs set up in groups, where the actors would do their first informal run-through of the script and make comments. The readings were very good, and the actors real pros, and much less difficult than their American counterparts. Miles had Alex sit next to him, and gave her little explanations and running comments about the actors sotto voce. He was doing all he could to make her feel part of their team, and Rachel Wooster, the screenwriter, came over afterward to ask Alex to sit at her table for lunch, and the director joined them. He was Irish and very funny and had everyone laughing all through lunch. The atmosphere and collegial relationship they all had were terrific, and Alex felt totally at ease in their midst, and even though she was allegedly only Mr. Green’s assistant, they treated her very well. She had status in the group.

At the end of the day, she walked out to her car and driver. Miles was leaving at the same time on a fierce-looking motorcycle, and stopped to chat with her for a minute.

“I hope you feel it went well today,” he said. He had been attentive all day, and so had the entire crew.

“It couldn’t be better. And I don’t think Mr. Green will have any problems with the script.” She had two small changes to send later, which were negligible, but she couldn’t tell him that now until “Mr. Green” had officially seen it.

“I do wish he’d drop by so we can make him feel welcome,” Miles said pleasantly, “but I know he doesn’t do that. If he changes his mind, though, we’d love to have him.”

“He’ll be very grateful. But he sends me out as his emissary to the world.” She smiled at him and he noticed her tan, which made her eyes look strikingly green.

“He certainly has an excellent ambassador to represent him.” Miles smiled at her and she laughed.

“Thank you. I’m not sure everyone would agree with you, but I feel very fortunate to have the job. He’s very easy to work for.”

“So are you. You had the whole team falling in love with you today, and I’m top of that list. I’m a great fan of his, and now of yours. I read all his books. They’re extraordinary.”

“He’ll be pleased that you think so.” It was like talking about herself in the third person, which felt strange, even though she had done it in L.A. for six months and never gave herself away. And she hoped she didn’t here. They seemed to pay much closer attention than the movie crew had, and the actors were less lavishly treated. Miles had been exceptionally helpful and welcoming, and was a pleasure to work with.

“I can give you a lift home on my bike, by the way, if you’d prefer it.”

“I’m too big a coward,” she said honestly.

“That’s probably sensible,” he said, waved at her, and then took off, and she went home sedately in the car they had provided her, and let herself into the house.

She sent Miles an email shortly after, with the two minor changes from “Mr. Green,” and went to relax in the small, cozy den next to her bedroom. She had had a really enjoyable time on the set, and liked them all. She hadn’t met anyone that she found difficult, and she was really looking forward to working with them. Even the actors were well behaved and fun to talk to, and not prima donnas despite their big names and reputations. The leaders, both director and producer, set a tone and example that put everyone in a good mood, and anxious to do their best for the team. It was a first-rate production company in every way. Even the food had been great.

She was surprised when the phone rang in the kitchen when she was opening a takeaway salad for dinner that she had picked up on the way home. Since no one had that number, she couldn’t imagine who it was. It was Miles McCarthy, checking in with her that all was to Mr. Green’s liking.

“He’s resting right now, but I told him when I got in how well everything went today, and he was very pleased.”

“Excellent,” he said, and hung up a moment later, as Alex sat down to eat her salad at the kitchen table and thought about him. It had been a very, very good first day.



It took the actors a week to hit their stride with the script, and start to play well off each other and even improvise occasionally, which Alex didn’t object to, and neither did “Mr. Green” when she reported his reaction and comments back to them. It took about the same amount of time for the whole team to adjust to working together, and by two weeks in, they all felt like old friends. It was a very experienced, professional cast and crew.

Alex was sitting on the soundstage, reading some changes in the script, when Miles came in and sat down in the chair next to her. She looked up and they exchanged a smile. He treated her like someone he knew well whenever they met. She knew how important and successful he was, and he was not what she had expected at all. He was much more casual and warmer than anyone she’d met on the set so far. He was a very modest person, unlike people in Hollywood, where posturing was a way of life. Malcolm had been a prime example.

“What do you think of the latest changes?” he asked her.

“I like them. They make the dialogue smoother.”

“Good. I don’t like playing with the master’s words.” He smiled at her, and he had an intelligent face.

“That’s nice of you, but this works,” she said, satisfied.

“I hope he agrees with you,” he said cautiously, but there had been no problems so far. “I know you meet with him at night, so it’s a long day for you. But would you ever want to have dinner? We can do it late, if that’s better for you. I’m a bit of a night owl myself.”

“I’m usually free by eight o’clock,” she said easily. “He doesn’t take up that much of my time. He’s very considerate about it.”

“That’s good to know. Somehow, I could imagine that someone so intensely reclusive could be a bit of a tyrant.”

“He’s not a tyrant. He’s just very shy.” She covered for the employer who didn’t exist, but everyone believed in.

“We would love to welcome him here,” he said again and then turned his attention to Alex. “What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything, and casual is fine.” He suggested Mon Plaisir, which she knew from when she lived there, and liked a lot.

“That would be great.”

“How would tonight be? Or would tomorrow be better?”

“Tonight’s fine,” she said, smiling broadly. She felt pampered and spoiled.

“You’re a very important person here,” he said seriously.

“You certainly make me feel that way.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight then, in a car, not on my motorcycle.” He grinned at her.