Scared Scriptless (18 page)

I take a deep breath.

“Yes, there is. I went to Craig’s tonight to go over the last-minute details. He’s been editing a completely different sizzle reel for tomorrow. In secret. It makes Wolf look like those trashy reality shows you hate. It’s exactly what I promised everyone
it wouldn’t be.” I don’t even wait for Hogan to interject. “But we don’t need that to sell the show. I don’t care what Craig says. The reel I made, and Janine helped me with, shows the heart of the town. There’s drama, everything we need, but without making false promises for the show. Even if Craig’s version is what it takes to sell the show, I wouldn’t be a part of it, and I don’t think you would want to be either. And I know everyone in Wolf would be horrified to see what Craig created by manipulating it with editing—”

“Absolutely not,” Hogan interrupts me. “You can’t let Craig show something that butchers Wolf. I’m sure he’s thinking that as long as he makes a deal tomorrow, I won’t care. But that’s bullshit. Pardon my French.” I hear him take a deep breath. “Are you with him right now?”

“No, I left to call you.” I can’t begin to describe how relieved I feel.

“I’m calling him now to straighten this out. He has always known how I feel about Wolf. I can’t believe he would try to get away with something like this.”

Wait. He’s always known?

“Sorry, Hogan, what do you mean he’s ‘always known’ about Wolf?”

“Well, I go there every winter, Maddy. Of course Craig knows where I am and how to reach me.” So Craig lied about that too. I know the next question I have to ask.

“Did he know about me?”

“What do you mean? Maddy, hon, I have to call Craig. Get this resolved.”

“No, wait. Hogan, please. Did you ever mention to Craig how you knew me?”

“Yes, of course. I mean, I know you don’t like to advertise to the crew, but Craig’s in management. No reason not to tell him.
But I told him not to say anything to anyone since you prefer to keep it under wraps. He didn’t say anything, did he?”

“No. He didn’t say anything.” I’m working so hard to breathe evenly that I’m probably going to hyperventilate. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Okay, hang in there, hon. Let me deal with Craig and I’ll call you back.”

What a manipulative, sleazy, opportunistic slimeball. I sit there at the curb outside Craig’s house stewing. I am so livid with myself for trusting him. For falling for… everything. He was using me all along. That much is clear.

Before I can consider my next move, gum-smacking Pam comes charging out of the house. Clutching a backpack and her coat, she hustles past without looking at me, hops in her Beetle, and zooms away.

I take it as a sign that Hogan’s made the call and taken care of the alternate sizzle reel. He has lawyers who can make sure that it’s destroyed, but I have to figure out what I’m going to do about tomorrow. But first, fueled by a fresh wave of anger, I realize I’ve got a few things to say. Ignoring the throbbing in my toe, I march back to the front door and knock. This time when Craig opens the door he swings it wide, inviting me in with no hint of irony. I stare at him, perhaps truly seeing him for the first time.

An old adage my mom used to quote rings in my mind:
When a man shows you who he really is, believe him.
I know now that Craig was a person I’d built up in my mind, who I’d assumed (it pains me to use that word) he was or wanted him to be, and now I am seeing who he really is. Fool me once.

“I’ve spoken to Hogan. He should be calling you any minute. If he hasn’t already.”

“He has.” Craig does, in fact, seem defeated. Seeing that I
have no intention of coming inside again, he lets go of the door and wanders through his open living room to the bar. “We deleted the ‘doctored’ ”—he exaggerates the word with finger quotes—“version of the reel. It doesn’t exist.” He pops open a beer and guzzles.

Given that the Wolf County business seems to be resolved—Hogan has protected the town, not to mention my reputation with everyone back home—there’s only one thing left to clear up.

“You knew all along. About me.” I watch him. His eyes meet mine, but otherwise he doesn’t flinch. “You acted so shocked about my family’s friendship with Hogan. In fact, you
acted
hurt that I hadn’t mentioned it to you. But that was all a lie. You’d known from the beginning.”

“Yes. I knew. And for the record, I was hurt that you never felt you could confide in me.”

Enraged, I yell, “I was RIGHT not to trust you with that! I shouldn’t have trusted you at all, as it turns out. Was the whole thing a setup from the beginning? Did you only ask me out to further your own agenda with Hogan?” Even as I voice the question, I can’t believe he would be that manipulative. But he doesn’t rush to defend himself; he doesn’t insist that what was between us was sincere. In fact, all he does is sigh and stick his hands in both pockets, resigned. “That’s not an answer, Craig.” In the silence, I’ve managed to regroup and state this at a normal volume. Maybe I’ll pat myself on the back later for that.

“Okay, I knew. I knew how close you were—you are—to Hogan. I’m not going to say it didn’t factor in.”

“Oh my God,” I mutter. I can’t believe I am just seeing this side of him now.

“But I didn’t keep dating you for that. I care about you, Maddy. I do. And I think we were really good together. But the show, my
career, you know how important that is to me. Hell, I thought you felt the same way about your own career. You need this. Your dying little town needs this as much as I do.”

“Not like this we don’t.” Somehow I don’t think he’s even aware of how condescending he is being.

“Look, you and I may disagree over how to do business. But I was never doing anything but trying to get Wolf County sold and help us all be successful. It would’ve made money for everyone involved. Potentially a lot of money. I don’t know how that makes me the bad guy here. And now you’ll never get this show made.” It’s his turn to spit out the last words.

I’m seething, but I respond with as much calm as I can muster. “If you don’t understand what you did wrong, then I doubt I’ll be able to explain it to you. It’s not worth the effort anyway. And you know what, Craig? I
am
going to get this show made. My way.”

I turn, and as calmly as possible walk right out the front door. As I hop in my car again, rev the engine, and shoot down to Sunset, I am determined to put Craig out of my mind. I have bigger things to focus on. Am I really going to let this debacle tank Wolf County’s chances of being sold? I can’t help but question my instincts here. Craig seemed so sure that the only way to sell Wolf was to manipulate the footage. Despite my confident exit, his words ring in my ears:
“Now you’ll never get this show made.”

But then I hear an even louder voice that says,
“Well, Maddy, I always like to think there’s a will and a way, but it’s pretty useless if you have one without the other.”

I can hear my dad’s voice as plain as if he’s in the car with me, and I know he’s right. There must be a way—and I do have the will.

Incredibly relieved to get this text from Hogan, I am sure that if we put our minds together, we can figure out how to salvage this situation. I make a U-turn and head back toward the famous club. I leave my Toyota with the valet and ride the fancy elevator up to the main lobby.
Okay, a plan,
I think. I need a plan. I could just go home and Google “How to pitch a TV show.” Maybe Wikipedia has some useful tips. I can’t help but overhear the two suits sharing the tiny elevator with me.

“We packaged the deal. Everything was signed tonight,” the dark suit with the red tie says. He’s got great hair, for an agent.

“Well, it’s a great concept,” says his friend. Trying not to listen, I pull out my phone and fake a text.

“I haven’t heard it pitched before. And everything right now is about the personalities attached. The networks want good characters. And we have that. I think we’re going to end up in a bidding war at the conference.” The Reality conference? I wonder if he’s talking about the same big event that Craig was supposed to pitch
Never Cry Wolf
at tomorrow.

“Who’s pitching the show tomorrow? The show runner?”

“No, that guy’s good at getting the job done, but he couldn’t sell lemonade in the Sahara. You have to be able to sell.” Hogan
must know people who can sell shows… maybe he’ll have a great idea for who to send to the event.

“Pitching is just acting. You either can or you can’t,” the guy says smugly as he holds the door open for me to exit the elevator.

What does that even mean?
I am starting to understand just how out of my depth I am as I check in with the hostess and notice how completely underdressed I am. When I tore off for Craig’s house two hours ago, the last thing on my mind was how I looked and the last place I thought I would end up tonight is Soho House. My life is full of surprises these days.

I’m not normally starstruck, but I can’t help but notice that Steven Spielberg is heading up the main stairs toward the dining area. The beautiful old-fashioned décor perfectly complements the startling good looks of all the movie stars and the ego and power of the industry moguls present. As I approach Hogan’s table, I see Derek Jordan sliding into a darkened booth. His companion is none other than Lola Stone, that actress Adam had bet me was making the moves on him. Seeing them canoodling at a table right there in front of everyone, I find my first smile tonight. Adam’s instinct was exactly right about Lola’s agenda. I guess I do owe him a whiskey. The thought helps quell my nerves as I approach Hogan’s corner table.

Hogan rises to greet me, kisses both my cheeks, and waits until I’ve been seated to return to his seat opposite me.

“How are you doing?” he asks, first a friend.

“I’m okay. Still so shocked. I just can’t believe he’s such a slimeball.” As the words are flying out of my mouth, I realize we’re talking about Hogan’s EIC. Despite Craig’s dubious actions, it’s pretty inappropriate for me to comment on it to him so blatantly. “Sorry, Hogan… I just mean—”

“No need to apologize. Craig is an asshole. Pardon my French.” Hogan dismisses him with a wave of his wineglass. “I fired him.”

I stare at Hogan. “You did?”

“Of course I did! I don’t tolerate behavior like that. He deserved to be fired for how he tried to manipulate you and the people of Wolf. There are tons of places he can go and make that kind of sensationalist, negative television. But I don’t want that kind of lowest-common-denominator thinking to represent me or my company.” Hogan sighs. “The bottom line is, I’ve felt for a while that Craig and I were at cross-purposes. It’s like we say the same words but mean two completely different things. So, I’m not just letting him go because of this. You don’t need that on your conscience. It’s a lot of things.”

I don’t know why that didn’t occur to me. I just thought Hogan would be mad; it never crossed my mind that Hogan would fire him. I wonder if Craig knew he was fired when we spoke. If that was why he was so resigned. Selfishly I am relieved to hear this news—it would have been very awkward for Craig and I to continue working together on
The Wrong Doctor
after everything that’s happened. Not that I would have wished for him to get fired, but it does make my life easier. Besides, I am sure Craig will land on his feet somewhere. That’s how the world works. So long as it’s far away from me and Wolf County, I’m fine with that.

“I’m sorry this happened. That you lost an employee you trusted over all this.” It’s tough because while I feel badly, like somehow I put this in motion, I don’t know that I could have done anything differently. “I guess I should have had my eyes open about Craig. I took him at face value, and I should’ve been more aware that he had his own agenda. I know why
Never Cry Wolf
was so important to me. I never got an honest answer about why it mattered so much to him.”

“
Never Cry Wolf
?”

“That’s the name we came up with.
I
came up with.” I’m done letting Craig take credit for my ideas.

“I love that. Great title. Maddy, I know this show is important to your parents. It can make a difference to the town.”

“We can still sell the show.” I can’t help but go for one last-ditch effort to salvage this. “Who do you know that could step in last minute for Craig? There must be someone who has reality TV experience, someone you trust to help pitch the show. I could brief them tonight.” I check my watch—8:42 p.m. “And be on the way to Manhattan Beach tomorrow morning.” I feel the desperation showing on my face. “We could offer someone executive producer credit if they’ll go to Reality Buzz and sell it.”

The idea of everything going down the toilet because of Craig seems so unjust to me. I can’t stand for that to be how this ends—like one of those art house movies where everyone loses in the end. I hate those movies. I glance around Soho House, starting to feel the edge of hysteria creep up on me. “God, there’s got to be someone here, tonight, who could do it.”

Hogan looks at me oddly.

“There is,” he says simply, taking the last bite of his entrée. “You.”

What?
“What?”

“You know perfectly well what, Maddy. You should sell the show. You can do it. Pitching isn’t that hard, especially when you’re as passionate about the subject as you are about Wolf. You’ll do great. I’m not going to find you someone else with this late notice, some random exec who has no investment in the project. I know how to sell TV, and I’m telling you, you can do this. Better than anyone else.”

I am still dumbfounded. “But… Hogan… I—”

“Not only that, but also when you sell the show, I’m putting you in charge of it. You’re going to be the EIC. I know you don’t think you’re ‘creative’ or whatever, but you’re wrong. You have a
feel for this. I watched the reel you put together. It’s excellent. It’s got heart. Like you. Like Wolf County.”

There’s a burning behind my eyes that I am determined to ignore.

“I just don’t want to let you down, Hogan. What if I choke?”

Hogan reaches across the table, pats my hand, and smiles at me kindly.

“Don’t choke.”