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Page 113 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet

“Yes. As in noon. Was that not clear?” he deadpans.

“Back it up, man. You want me to go to the Beverly Hills offices?”

“Yes, sweetheart. They want to give you a foot rub and a hot-stone massage. Shall I send a car to Doctor Insomnia’s for you? I can arrange to have the Olympic men’s swim team waiting for you if that’ll sweeten the deal.”

I swing my gaze back and forth along this Venice street. “How do you know where I am?”

“I had your tracking device implanted last time you were here. Also, you’re a creature of habit, so I took a good guess. Was I right, totally right, or of course I was fucking right?”

“Yeah, you’re right. No, the swim team won’t be necessary, but thanks for the offer. Also, if you’re making your Christmas list, I like hand rubs, not foot rubs. And why the hell do your LA doppelgangers want to see me, stat?” He’s hitting me with surprises left and right.

“Because everyone lovesTop-Notch Boyfriend. Anyway, do you look decent? Wait. Who am I talking to? You always look good. Bet you’re wearing one of your animal-print shirts and fashionable jeans that you’ve never washed in anything but Method detergent?”

I glance down at the armadillo print on my chest and the aforementioned denim. “That tracking device worked out really well for you. Anyway, why am I going to CTM at the last minute? Just to meet with Kristen and company?”

“Not just with the LA Masons. A producer is coming too, but you know my mantra.”

“Don’t believe anything till the check cashes,” I fill in.

“And even then, who knows? But there’s some stuff in the works, and we can sell your books better if we can also sellyou. I figure I could have a little TJ showcase while you were in town for whatever secret tryst you’re having.”

Damn. Mason knows me too well. But hopefully, this secret tryst won’t be secret for long. Jude and I have hardly been clandestine since we’ve been out in public. I’d like to make some plans with him beyond this trip, plans to see Amsterdam with him. I’d like, too, to make this thing more than a thing. I want him to be my boyfriend.

For now, though, I focus on Mason as he rattles off details about the meeting. When the town car he ordered arrives five minutes later, my head is reeling.

Still, I know better than to get excited about Hollywood.

Just like Mason taught me.

Only, it’s not just a meeting. It’s more like a full-court press in the sunlit, floor-to-ceiling glass conference room overlooking Beverly Hills.

CTM’s catering brings in Costa Rican coffee, blueberries, and an assortment of kale-based snacks. Jude will get such a kick out of this when I tell him about the spread later.

Even though Mason prepped me, I’m still a little surprised to see Robert Walsh from the theater the other night. I was sure nothing would come of bumping into him. But after hellos, he takes a seat next to Kristen. Mason’s zoomed in on Kristen’s iPad.

The producer from Webflix leans forward in the orange chair, shaking his head in disbelief. “I literally can’t stand how much I love this story.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” I’m still gobsmacked and sound like it.

Robert shoots me an intense stare. “Let me make it clear. I love it as much as my dog.”

“And his dog has a private chef,” Mason chimes in.

“Rocco, the Fiercest Chihuahua, has a personal trainer too,” Kristen supplies with a smile. “Tell us what your vision is for the show, Robert.”

“We’ll stay as true to the book as possible,” Robert says, then stretches his hands out like he’s framing a marquee. “After the prologue when they meet, I see the camera pans to an establishing shot, Greenwich Village. Close-up on our hero. He’s working on one of his cartoons when his best-friend-turned-business-manager saunters into their artsy office, tells him about the deal he just booked for our hero’s illustrations. Then, we cut to the guys celebrating that night with ping-pong and beer at their favorite bar. In walks the other hero—duh duhduuun—the best friend’s brother. Our hero has been crushing on him since that day in the prologue. AKAfor-evah.”

It’s too good to be true. I know Mason’s mantra, he’s repeated it ever since my book took off, so I do my best to stay super chill.

But man, it’s really fucking hard when this guy tells me that Webflix loves my story and wants to make a deal.

Maybe I do finally understand musicals because it’s also really hard not to burst into, well, an epic rock song right the hell now.

Especially when Robert shakes my hand at the end of the meeting. “I know this seems like luck because we ran into each other at the play. But it’s not luck. Your book is gold, and we’re going to mine it and give it a good home. I promise you that.”

“I’m just glad you enjoyed the story,” I say. That’s about as much as I can process right now.

When he leaves, Kristen mimes her head exploding. “Some deals are the LA freeway system. Some are the autobahn. That deal is a Bugatti on the autobahn.”




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