Master of Her Virtue - By Miranda Lee Page 0,42

a movie but with Violet. She’d been a wicked temptation to him right from the start. It was going to a battle royal to resist further temptation. Thank God she did live on the other side of the world. That should help, as well as the fact that shortly he would be starting on a new movie project, not just as producer but as director as well.

He’d dabbled with directing on other projects, once when the director had gotten ill and another time when the director he’d hired had stormed off for two days just before the shoot was finished. But this would be the first time his name would show on the credits as director and producer. He’d been looking forward to the challenge for weeks.

Frankly, he’d become a little bored with just producing, the same way he’d grown bored with being a lawyer. His low boredom-threshold was one of his character flaws, Leo accepted.

‘So what are the main ingredients of a hit?’ Violet asked.

‘Sorry. Trade secrets. I’d have to kill you if I told you that.’

‘Oh, don’t be silly. I won’t tell anyone.’

‘Why don’t you have a guess?’

‘All right. I will. Now, let me see... A movie’s not the same as a book, being a strictly visual medium. But some of the basic elements are the same. In the main, you need a cast of characters you care about. No, scratch that thought—you don’t need to care about all the characters, but you definitely have to care about the main protagonist, who’s a male, preferably.’

‘That’s a rather sexist statement.’

‘You said your research was applied with ruthless logic, not sentiment or political correctness. Most of the big hit movies I can think of have a male protagonist.’

‘Fair enough. What else?’

‘Action scenes. And I don’t mean car chases; I personally hate car chases. But the story should be told through action, not talk. People see better than they listen. What dialogue there is has to be part of the story telling without a word wasted.’

Leo was impressed. ‘Go on.’

‘Then there has to be a credible conflict. The audience has to believe that there’s something real at stake in the movie they’re watching. The characters can be larger than life but still have to feel real.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Mmm. Well, pace is very important. When you have only two hours or so to tell a story, you’d better get straight into it, then not let up till the last moment. Drop the pace for too long and you risk losing your audience. Oh, and the ending has to satisfy, with all the threads tied up. None of those up-in-the-air dangly finishes.’

‘I never have dangly finishes,’ Leo said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried not to laugh.

‘That’s good, then,’ Violet said, oblivious of any double meaning in her last statement. ‘Just a sec. My coffee and sandwich have just arrived. Thanks,’ she said, not to him. ‘Please excuse me if you hear slurping and swallowing whilst we’re talking. So what went wrong with your last movie?’

‘To quote an extremely intelligent critic I just met, it was too talky, too little pace and definitely not enough action.’

‘Heavens! What possessed you to make it in the first place? No, no, let me guess—it was a book and you loved it to pieces. It was also a very long book.’

‘Mmm, yes and yes. It was over a thousand pages.’

‘Long books rarely make good movies. In fact, most books don’t make good movies. Though there are exceptions, of course. I hope your next movie isn’t from a book.’

‘No. It’s an original screenplay. But after talking to you I do have a couple of concerns. I tell you what,’ he said, ignoring the warning bell ringing at the back of his brain. ‘How about I email the screenplay to you when I get home and you tell me what you think of it? That is, if you don’t mind.’

Mind? Dear God, did he have any idea how much she’d love that? She’d love anything which would keep them in contact. Already she was thinking that he was sure to come back to visit Henry again one day. And when he did...

Meanwhile, it was imperative that she did act cool. One hint that she was in love with him and he’d run a mile. Violet knew the score now. As a twice-married forty-year-old, Leo wasn’t interested in romantic entanglements. He did, however, like his sex. And intelligent conversations about movies. She could do both of those things.

‘I’d