After the Climb (River Rain #1) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,60
sip of coffee, because that was something to consider.
“I read the script, Gen, and would I honestly come to you with this if I didn’t think you’d like it?” Steph asked. “It’s funnier than his normal stuff, but just as deep. There isn’t a character, male or female, under the age of forty-eight who is not ancillary. It’s a female-driven show. It’s sexy. It’s smart. These characters are vital and real. And he told me, outside the networks he’s pushing it to, he hasn’t shown it to anyone, because he wants you.”
That felt incredibly nice.
And it was a huge compliment, coming from Teddy.
However.
“Okay, Steph, I hear your excitement, honey. But we talked about this and that part of my life is over. Small gigs. A few days on the set. I live in Phoenix and—”
“Right now, it’s set in northern Cali. But Teddy says he’d set it in Phoenix, do a lot of location shots there, and film it there. For you.”
Oh my goodness.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Yes. And the money they’re talking is big budget. Even just for the pilot. Anti-ageism is a thing, it’s heating up, and those that hold the purse strings have cottoned onto the fact that the people who have the most money are not the ones spending it on craft beer, in speakeasies and at nightclubs, and since they’re out doing that, they’re not at home, watching TV.”
I took another sip of coffee, reflecting on this too.
“Which means the money we could negotiate for you is big budget too,” she went on.
Although I didn’t need it, money was money. It wasn’t something you turned down, and when in negotiations, you went for as much as you could get.
And it would be a big win, at my age, in that industry, to demand what I was worth.
“Read the script, Gen,” she urged.
“This could tank,” I shared.
“Yes, it could. But then any of them could. But listen to me, Outlander is hugely popular, and the two leads go at each other all the time, and neither of them are twenty-three.”
“Neither of them are fifty-three either.”
“But they’re closer to fifty-three than twenty-three.”
“Just.”
“It’s still true.”
She had me there.
“The last meaty role I was offered was playing the mother to an actor who’s seven years younger than me,” I reminded her.
“I was with you through that ridiculousness, Gen, I remember. And it was the highlight of my career when I got to tell them to go fuck themselves. But…this is Teddy.”
One could say I did not need this, considering it was very clear I was resuming a relationship with a man I had loved deeply, and there were no indications that feeling would not come back.
In spades.
And honestly, I wanted to focus on that.
And only that.
But I was drifting.
Chloe had her shop.
Matt had his school.
Sasha was dug in deep being a student of life.
Tom was two years into a five-year contract that had him in the booth, commentating on every grand slam tournament, not to mention the Davis Cup, year-end Finals, and when the Olympics rolled around. And when it was not those times, he was busy with a small, but demanding medical practice.
I was adrift.
And I knew it.
There was only so much reading to consume, phone app games to play, carefully selected charity functions to attend and Met Balls to prepare for a woman could do.
And I’d love my job. My work.
It had been my dream.
I was not unaware that I had a shelf life. I was not Meryl Streep. I was not Helen Mirren.
But playing a mother of a man who was seven years younger than me?
Really?
“Send me the script,” I said.
I could hear her excitement when she replied, “Teddy will be thrilled! But he’s going old school on this. He’s being so secretive about it, he couriered it to me. Hard copy. He says the digital is on his PC at home, not even in a cloud. And he’s made me promise to do the same with you. So I’ll have to FedEx it. But no one can read it. No one can touch the printed pages. Not even Mary.”
“I’ll let you know when I receive it, and we’ll chat after I read it.”
“Fantastic, Gen.”
“Okay, Steph.”
“I’ll let you go. I need to get this out and call Teddy.”
“Don’t make any promises.”
“Girl, who are you talking to?” she asked. But I didn’t get the chance to answer. “We’ll chat soon. For now, ciao.”
“Ciao.”
We hung up and I stared at my phone, uncertain what to feel.