this summer. You’ll need to hand over more of the writing to your staff, so you can balance both shows. Do you think you can do that?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
Saul chuckled.
Elle tipped her head to the side. “Sir?”
“Letting go of control is . . . well, it’s not your strong suit.”
“I promise to work on it.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Saul rose from his seat. “Can you have those ideas to me by Friday?”
That’s two days from now! Elle screamed inside her head. She inhaled deeply, knowing she’d figure out a way, and composed herself before rising to her feet to shake Saul’s hand.
“Sure, I can do that.” Elle reeled in her nerves, giving Saul her best confident smile. “Thank you for this opportunity, sir.”
Elle left Saul’s office and walked down to the parking lot, entering her car before whooping with glee and slapping her steering wheel with exuberance. She couldn’t believe it. In several months, she could be the writer and show runner of not one, but two shows in prime time. The feeling was exhilarating.
The only problem was her empty brain.
No ideas, not one. She needed Rob. As much as his sage-like behavior sometimes annoyed her, he had definite skill when it came to coaxing the creativity from Elle when her nerves were shot. Quickly, she sent him a text informing him of her discussion and requesting a brief meeting in her office.
She returned to the studio lot and made her way to her office. Rob was waiting for her when she arrived.
“How excited are you?” Rob asked.
“I’m freaking out, Rob!” Elle paced her office. Her hands trembled and her mind remained blank.
“C’mon, you’re a creative person. I’m sure you have plenty of ideas in that head of yours.”
It was true most of the time. Elle’s mind did wander at times, and she dreamed up new ideas. Fresh and exciting ideas that had nothing to do with her past. She needed to somehow tap into that now. The opportunity to create something completely from scratch was beyond exciting. It was the opportunity of her career.
“Thank goodness we’re done filming this week. I can focus without Gina flaunting her showmance in my face.”
“I really wish we could get rid of her.”
Elle jerked her head back in shock. She didn’t realize Rob shared her feelings of disgust when it came to their leading lady.
“Oh, c’mon,” he continued. “We both know she’s a shit.”
Elle sat up straight in her chair. “I have a newfound respect for you.”
“Listen, I have to go. Get those creative juices flowing. Get Whitney in here, she’ll help you.”
“Uh,” Elle fumbled. “We’re not in the best place.”
“Oh, good Lord. I could never be a woman. I swear, there’s always something.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rob stood and walked to the door, turning once his hand was on the knob. “And Elle?”
“Yeah.”
“Congratulations. I’m really proud of you.”
“Thanks, Rob. That means a lot to me, seriously.”
Rob gave her a quick wave before leaving her alone with her chaotic thoughts. She wanted to call Whitney . . . and Luke. But even though she reached for her phone, she placed it down on her desk, swarmed with conflicting thoughts. She and Luke hadn’t spoken in a personal manner since she threatened to call the police and tabloids. And Whitney was MIA ever since their uncomfortable evening at the French bistro. She knew they would both be excited for her, but her feelings of excitement were overshadowed by the awkward state of each relationship. So instead she focused on what she could: the work. She needed three ideas.
A new show.
A new show.
A new show.
She was drawing a blank.
Whenever Elle was stuck, she did one of two things. First, she called Whitney for a brainstorm session over candy and/or cocktails. And if, like today, that wasn’t an option, she retrieved her journal from the bottom drawer of her desk. Below her candy stash, a simple leather-bound book with a painted picture of an old-school typewriter and her initials sat for moments like this. She pulled the journal from her drawer, dusted off the cover, and scanned through her book ideas—ideas from long ago when she was starting her writing career.
When she opened the journal to the first page, her phone pinged with a text.
Elle glanced down at her phone. She couldn’t take her eyes off the brief message from Troy. A proper response eluded her, and yet she knew it was necessary to respond sooner rather than later.