“What?” I roar on the other end.
“He was about two hours late,” she says quietly, no doubt anticipating my reaction.
“Where the hell was he?” I’m furious. How can Will be such a jerk? I’m kicking myself inside. I never should have let her travel alone, leaving her in the hands of that self-absorbed prick.
“He claimed he was stuck in traffic, but I don’t think he bothered to confirm my arrival time. He seemed very preoccupied when he dropped me off at the hotel. Eric, the news he gave me isn’t the greatest,” she reveals, trying to stifle a yawn. I shouldn’t be keeping her up this late. She needs to rest. Even though there’s a three-hour time difference, she must be exhausted.
“Do you want to tell me now or wait until tomorrow?” I don’t want to push her if she’s tired.
“We might as well talk about it now while I’m all worked up. But don’t get mad if I fall asleep on you. I don’t know how long this spurt of energy is going to last,” she chuckles softly in my ear, making me want to kiss her so bad. I run my fingers over the glass of one of the photo frames, wishing she was here with me now, stretched out in front of the fire. It’s only been a few hours, but I miss her so much it hurts.
“I could never get mad at you,” I whisper, closing my eyes and imagining her next to me. “Tell me what he said.”
“To make a long story short, Lauren’s uncle, the one who’s a producer, found out that I made her the villain of the script and he’s threatening to sue or at the very least make sure the project doesn’t see the light of day. He knows who I am and how I’m living with you, and he’s out for blood. I guess he’s livid about the whole situation after seeing you make out with Lauren at the film festival. He read what I had written after Will started shopping the screenplay around, and he put two and two together when Will listed my name as the co-writer. Her uncle already thinks I upstaged Lauren once. There’s no way in hell he’s going to sit back and let me do it again.” Ivy sighs heavily as the full weight of what she’s telling me begins to sink in.
This is bad. Very bad. Now I know why Ivy didn’t let me read any of her drafts. She knew I wouldn’t approve of what she was doing. And boy, was she right.
“Ivy, what were you thinking, huh? How could you be so naïve?” I don’t mean to go off on her, but she quite possibly jeopardized our entire future doing what she did. If Lauren’s uncle goes on the attack, we certainly don’t have the means to fight him. We could lose everything—the house, the garden center, the little savings I have left. There’s no way we could mount a capable legal defense against some big, hotshot lawyer. We’d probably be run out of town on a rail if word got out that Ivy was writing about Lauren. People already feel sorry for Lauren after Ivy supposedly stole me away from her. Why give them any more ammunition?
“I honestly believed that no one would find out. I never in a million years thought that Will would submit the project to Lauren’s uncle after everything that went down. He’s just so desperate for someone to pick up the script. If he can’t get a producer to green-light it, he has nothing else to fall back on. He’s screwed. And the producers who were supposed to take it developed a case of cold feet when they heard about the trouble Lauren’s uncle’s threatening to stir up. No one is going to want to touch this project with a ten-foot pole if it’s only going to drag them into court.” I can hear her roll over in bed as she tries to get comfortable. After such a long day, all of this added stress isn’t good for her. I want to be there to massage the tension out of her shoulders and rub her aching feet, but I’m not. I’m three thousand miles away on the other side of the country. Why did I ever agree to let her do this?
“Ivy, you have to back out. Tell Will to take your name off the script and scrap it. There’s no way you can go forward now. It’s too risky.” I hope I’ll be able to talk some sense into her. I know Will is just going to be looking out for himself. Ivy can’t be blinded by the massive guilt trip he’s sure to unload on her. She has to worry about herself and not get caught up in his problems.
“That’s why Will wanted me out here. The producers who were interested in the script before all this controversy are giving us one more chance to turn it around. We have five days to come up with a brand new screenplay that has no mention of Lauren in it. There’s no way we can come up with something so fast off the top of our heads. It took us months to write the first one. So Will pitched them another idea, and they went for it. Problem is, I don’t think you’re going to like it.” I hear her toss and turn again, obviously distraught. I feel a knot forming in the pit of my stomach. Oh no, what did Will do now?
“Do I even want to hear this?” I groan, raking a hand through my newly trimmed hair.
“Probably not,” she responds, her trepidation apparent. “I’m not sure I want to do it…let alone tell you about it.”
“That bad, huh?” I ask jokingly, trying to ease the tension.
“Eric, they want me to write the story of you and Cassidy,” she blurts out, whether I’m ready to hear it or not.
I don’t say anything for a good three seconds.
“You’ve got to kidding me.” It’s like she just sucker-punched me to the balls.
“I wish I were. But they latched on to the idea and they won’t let go. Will didn’t even discuss it with me before he approached them. And now that he has me here, he’s going to keep me writing day and night until we’ve got something to show them. I don’t know what to do, Eric. Should I just come home?” She’s close to tears, realizing the horrible position Will’s placed her in.
“If you do, what happens?” I need to know all of the details before I can offer her any advice. Will’s too smart not to have covered his ass.
“Then Will’s going to move ahead with the Lauren version of the script in the hope that he can find someone willing to battle her uncle in court. I guess people in the industry are already buzzing about it, and Will’s looking to capitalize on the notoriety, even if it’s not necessarily positive. He’s giving me this last chance of working on the rewrite as a way out. I either do it and he calls off the dogs or I don’t and he throws me headfirst into a legal shitstorm. Either way, I’m going to end up hurting you.” This time she can’t hold back her tears as she begins to sob.
“Ivy, I don’t want to see all the pain I went through marketed and sold like I’m trying to profit off Cassidy’s death. I couldn’t live with myself if I agreed to something like this. It makes my skin crawl.” I shouldn’t be so tough on Ivy, but there’s no way I can bite my tongue. Not when it’s about Cassidy. “But if I don’t comply with Will’s demands, then how in the world am I going to provide for our baby? Lauren’s uncle has the power to take everything away from us, everything I’ve worked so hard for.”
“Eric…I’m…so…sorry.” She can barely get the words out through her tears.
“I’m sorry too, Ivy.” I can’t deny that I’m disappointed in her. I should’ve made her show me the script. Maybe I could’ve prevented all of this if I had known what she was up to. Now my personal tragedy is once again going to be heralded as the nation’s favorite sob story. The agony Cassidy endured will be memorialized as nothing more than a stupid chick flick. I never thought I’d have to betray her memory like this. That’s why I stayed out of the limelight. That’s why I retreated into seclusion. That’s why I don’t speak to the media. I hate to even think like this, but if I’d never agreed to that Gazette interview with Ivy last summer, I wouldn’t be going through this right now. I let her in. Little did I know that I’d be giving up my right to privacy…as well as surrendering my heart.
“I can’t go through with it, Eric. It’s not right. I messed up and you shouldn’t have to pay the price for my mistake.” She’s trying to rally my spirits, but it’s too late. The damage is done. I’m just going to have to suffer through this somehow.