Free (Chaos #6) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,161

it’ll take time to liquidate. You still need to convince the brothers about your plan, so you gotta write it. This means your crew needs to know the state of play. There’s a lot of shit to do and I’m thinkin’ breakfast sandwiches don’t factor into that.”

I stared at him, thinking about my cast and crew and the fact they were out of jobs until I could sort stuff out.

And some of them would be out of jobs until we got through post production, distributed the last film, and got cash flowing so we could start up again.

Further, I wanted to do the Chaos film first, and the way that was forming in my head, that would not take much crew, if any at all, and it definitely wouldn’t need a cast.

My eyes drifted to the window behind Rush as the realization this insanely cool boon was also a burden.

“Rebel,” he called softly.

I looked to him. “My Benito money.”

“Say again?”

“All that money I made for the last eight months. There’s a lot, Rush. I’d have to go over the figures, but I think, with that, I can keep production going with payroll for at least a week. I can call a meeting today with the cast and crew, share what’s going down, close production for this week. Start back up with my cash. The stuff gets signed over, we can begin the liquidation process, feed that money in to keep things rolling. We only have two, maybe three weeks left on production. I can bank any further monies. I do the cuts myself. Editing, laying over music, bringing the cast back for any reshoots needed, I’ll use that bank. Get the DVDs burned and distributed, the last film gets done, proceeds go into the coffers for my indie, and in the meantime, I can start on Chaos.”

“You got that all planned pretty quick,” he murmured.

“I need to call Meryl,” I told his scruffy jaw. “Get her to call a meeting this morning. So I need to get in the shower.”

I’d pulled free, rolled, but didn’t make it when an arm hooked at my belly, hauling me back in.

“You need cover, Rebel,” Rush said into my ear.

Oh shit.

I twisted my neck. “Anniversary present?”

When he looked harassed I went on swiftly.

“The only time I’ll ask. Promise. And I’ll try to make it fast. Though there’s a lot to go over. Me being Rebel, not Tallulah. Why I was Tallulah. The fact they’ll have to take a week off without pay.”

He sighed.

“Outside of, you know, having to ask when I get back to work, if this situation hasn’t settled yet,” I finished carefully.

He stared at me before he sighed again.

Then said, “You’re lucky you’re a great fuck.”

I grinned.

“And got great hair,” he went on.

I grinned bigger.

“And fantastic legs.”

My grin got seriously toothy.

“And beautiful cheekbones.”

That surprised me. “Beautiful cheekbones?”

Another sigh.

“Baby, you pretty much got beautiful everything, which means I’m fucked.”

I did not grin at that.

I turned in his arms and laid a wet, sloppy kiss on him.

He rolled to his back, pulling me over him, and let me.

We went at it for a while before Rush broke it and reminded me, “Production meeting?”

“Shit!” I cried, then in a flurry of pillows and limbs flying, I jumped out of bed.

Nine forty-five that morning . . .

I stood in front of my cast and crew in the cavernous space that was the studio for Luxe Films, the area behind them dressed as a romantic dinner set, all of their eyes on me.

“So there are no guarantees,” I continued laying it out. “We feel good the handover will go smoothly, but further funding is dependent on the liquidation of Bang. If the handover happens, however, I’ll be personally funding production until assets can be sold. My hope is, we’ll finish this film. But I have to be honest with you, after that, things are up in the air. So I’d ask for you to stick with me, even though I understand it will be a hardship. But I do it with forewarning that you’d be advised to get your resumes out there because once we wrap, I don’t know what the future holds.”

“Mr. Valenzuela is out?” Sharon called.

“It’s my understanding he will be by the end of the week,” I told her.

“Fuckin’ brilliant. That guy gave me the willies,” Darinda, one of my camerawomen muttered.

“You’re gonna fund it yourself?” Janna asked.

I’d gone over the figures. Benito had not been stingy with my salary. If necessary, I had

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