Falling into Forever (Falling into You)

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Copyright © by Lauren Abrams

The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the expressed written permission of the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.
 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locals is purely coincidental.

HALLIE

I rush down the sidewalk, clutching my bag and tucking away a few loose strands of hair that won’t stay in place. I’m late, mostly because I spent the last hour deciding whether I would even be able to leave the hotel room. Somehow, I managed to convince myself that this meeting wouldn’t be as bad as I knew it was going to be, so I put on my shoes and walked out the door. I’m definitely reconsidering that particular life decision right now.

I check the address again on my phone, and sighing,
I glance up at the cool gray façade and the unmistakable gold-plated sign that reads FFG Studios. I need to fortify myself, so I look down to see the flash of a diamond catch the light. This is for him. It’s what he wanted. I have to keep reminding myself of that fact over and over again, because what I really want to do is jump in a cab, hop a plane home, and leave New York in my rearview mirror forever.

After t
aking a deep breath, I open the door and find myself in the midst of a movie set version of an office. People bustle back and forth, carrying large envelopes and shiny mobile devices. I hurry over to the desk, where an impossibly beautiful girl with black hair greets me with a slightly imperious look.

“Can I help you?”

“I have a meeting at noon with Mr. Rivers.”

“Name, please.”

“It’s probably under Hallie Caldwell.”

She
checks her computer before giving me a friendly smile. “Right away, Miss Caldwell. I’ll tell him that you’re here, and he should be down shortly. Is there anything that I can get for you while you’re waiting? A latte, perhaps?”

“
No, I’m fine. Thank you very much.”

I take a seat on one of the black leather sofas in the corner of the lobby.
The sick feeling of dread that has weighed on me ever since I got off the plane is heavy now, weaving my stomach into a thousand little butterfly knots. I twist the ring around my finger in endless circles until my skin starts to feel raw.

“The elusive Miss Caldwell,” a booming voice announces.

I look up to see a bear of a man hulking into the lobby, clearly making a beeline for me. I stand up, too quickly, so much so that I stumble over my own feet. Stupid heels.

“
Mr. Rivers, I presume. Hello. I’m Hallie Caldwell.”

I’m trying to sound
professional, but my voice and hands and body are all trembling uncontrollably. He doesn’t seem to notice and instead takes both of my hands into one of his enormous ones.

“
Please. It’s Jeff. I’m head of production for FFG Studios. It’s nice to meet you in the flesh.” He chuckles to himself, his tongue running over his lips as he eyes me with appreciation. “And what a piece of flesh it is, if I may say so.”

So. Gross.

I think I manage to give him my best attempt at a cordial smile.

As we make our way across the lobby, his
other hand curls into the small of my back. Our bodies are so close together that the warmth of his skin is radiating heat against mine. I consider using some of my best self-defense moves, but I ultimately decide against it. That would only prolong the meeting. Besides, filing a police report would be a huge hassle.

“Come this way, Hallie. I can call you Hallie, right?”

That doesn’t even elicit a response from me. Shaking his head, h
e ushers me into an elevator and presses 4. His hand stays firmly placed on my back, even though I try to twist away.

“How’s
your trip to New York? The hotel treating you all right? If there’s anything you need, just let me know and I’ll put someone on it. How long are you here for?”

His questions all run together, like he’s used to doing the talking a
nd not so much used to asking. He continues, undaunted by my lack of response, whispering conspiratorially into my ear, “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but we love the script. We’re willing to sell our souls to get it.”

My lips curl involuntarily into a smile. “You were definitely not supposed to tell me that.”

“She speaks! You should keep doing that, honey. It looks good on you.”

I try to smile
, but I’m pretty sure my face betrays my total disgust. He shakes his head and clucks his tongue as the elevator doors open.

Thank god.
Ben’s agent (my agent—I correct myself) is sitting in a chair outside of a glossy conference room that’s decked out in rich mahogany. I manage to extract myself from Jeff’s grip and I rush towards her. Her face lights up when she sees me; she knew my trepidations about this silly meeting and probably figured I wouldn’t show up.

Jeff
gives her a long, lecherous look up and down before turning his attention back to me. “You two probably need a minute to talk. But don’t take too long. I’m not used to being kept waiting.” The flash of his smile reveals even rows of too-white teeth.

Again. So gross.

I shake it off and turn to Eva, who wraps me in a tight embrace. 

“Hallie
.”

“You clean up well,” I say, eyeing
the red suit and elegant chignon.

She means bus
iness, then. She looks nothing like the woman in blue jeans and a ratty sweatshirt who sat for long hours with us on our porch, talking about characterization and prose and the need for more action and less talking.

That was t
hree years ago, I realize suddenly. It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago at the same time.

“How are you holding up?” she whispers, putting a strong arm around my shoulders
.

“I’ll be fine.”
It’s true. I will be fine, just as soon as I can get out of this hellhole.

“Look, I’m going to play hardball a bit in there.
FFG wants this screenplay so badly that they’re practically salivating for it. This, my dear, is because they know it’s going to be the next blockbuster. They would be fools to let us walk out of the door without locking you down for the whole enchilada.”

She’s looking at me like she expects some kind of reaction, but I give her my best stony stare instead, which makes her laugh.

“Hallie. Do you even care about any of this?”

I don’t think she actually wants
to hear my answer to that question.

Undeterred, she continues
, punctuating her words with a little smirk. “Just to recap, in case you forgot the details or neglected to read any of the thousand memos that I sent you, FFG wants the rights to the first book and they want to take the screenplay as is, although they’ll probably add another writer. They’ll want to make it more commercial, to add the taglines that will be printed on the merchandise. That’s how these things are done.”

I nod
, but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of pretending to care, because Eva’s checking my face carefully, as if she wants to make sure I’m not going to crumble right in front of her. I stand up straighter and try to focus on her words.

“They want the rights to the rest of the trilogy, too, but they’ve been fuzzy on the details so far. Lightgate is offering a guarantee that they’ll make all three movies. We can meet with them tomorrow, if we’re
not getting what we want here. And you know that there are other offers on the table, too.”

My eyes glaze over. “This has to be over today. No more meetings.”

She gives me a wicked little grin. “Well, maybe if my favorite client even tried to look at any of the contracts I send over, she would have some idea of which deal she actually wanted. Maybe then, we wouldn’t have to schedule so many meetings.”

I frown
. She raises her eyebrows. This is an old dance between the two of us. And probably a good illustration of why you shouldn’t do business with friends.

“I do read the contracts,” I say, a little too defensively. Kind of.
I definitely took a good look at the cover of the last one. Right before I threw it into the trash can.

“
Sure.” She’s still skeptical, so I give her my best innocent face, which elicits a small grin. “We’re talking millions and millions of dollars, Hal. Maybe more than that, if we play our cards right. It’s wise to make sure that we’ve considered all of the options.”

“I know, Eva.
And I’m grateful for your help. I really am. I just hate New York and I’m being a giant baby about this whole thing.”

“
You won’t get any argument about that from me.” Still, her face softens slightly. “Did you at least manage to get a decent meal last night? We do have some of the best restaurants in the world, you know.”

I had ordered room
service and stayed in my room with only bad reality TV for company, but I don’t tell her that. “I had some pasta with organic vegetables made on an antibiotic-free farm-raised co-op. Yum.”

Eva laughs, for real this time. “Just remember, if anyone in there asks you about hormone-free, antibiotic
food, you just say you love it. It’s your favorite. Cage-free eggs, too.”

I make a face, and s
he sighs and loops her arm through mine as we join the stream of people piling into the room.

“Hang in there. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

As it turns out, Eva’s right. Almost an hour later, my head is spinning with the talk of international rights and back-end profits and three film guarantees. Rapid-fire speech is coming from all of the faces around the long table, and I can’t keep any of them straight. They’re talking about the dazzling dialogue and the potential for merchandising and action figures and all of that nonsense, but what they’re really talking about is money. I haven’t said a word.

“It’s thi
s generation’s epic tale,” one of the suits offers finally. “The timeless story of man fighting against evil, of one poor guy just trying to make it in a world torn apart. And we’re going to make sure that millions of eyes all around the planet can’t look away.”

Eva isn’t impressed by
his flattery. She holds firm. “We need three things from you to make this deal happen today. You know that we can walk out that door right now and go straight to the next meeting and get everything that we want—a three film guarantee, a piece of the back-end, and a check. A very, very large check. Lots of zeroes. We’re only here because you promised that you would make the best offer, one that involves creative control. If you can’t make that happen, this deal is over before it started.”