Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“I’m sure he’s mad, Juno,” Patrick says carefully. “But you and I both know you weren’t doing that to chase spectacle. You were doing your job, and I’m sure he’ll understand that, given time.”
“That doesn’t change how it felt,” I say. “To him.”
Patrick’s eyes soften a fraction. “You care about him.”
I swallow. “Enough to know I can’t do this halfway. The second reason I must step away from this film is that I will never include that scene or the conflict between Crosby and Cherry in the final film. I can’t do that to him, and because I can’t do that to him, that makes me a terrible documentarian. I should be able to remain objective and I can’t. I’m letting personal feelings dictate my work, and that goes against all my principles. You need someone here who can report the full story.”
“I see,” he murmurs.
I reach into my bag and slide a small notebook onto his desk. “Evan will stay on as lead field producer. I’ve already spoken to him and he’s willing to continue.” I pause. “I’ve also put together a short list of directors who could step in and take over creative. People I trust to do right by you.”
Patrick doesn’t touch the notebook. Instead, he leans forward, forearms resting on the desk. “Juno,” he says carefully, “do you know what I hear right now?”
I look at him, guarded. “What?”
“I hear someone who’s been abandoned before,” he says, “and is deciding to walk away first this time.”
My breath catches involuntarily, shocked he’d bring up the brutal reminder of my past. “That’s not—” I start, then stop.
Because it is.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Patrick continues. “And I’m not minimizing the situation. But I do think you’re reacting from a very old place.”
I stare down at my hands, the skin stretched tight over my knuckles that are now white because I’m clasping so hard. “That old place kept me alive.”
“I know,” he says. “But it’s not serving you now.”
I look up to meet his gaze. “I can’t lose my integrity.”
“And I don’t want you to,” he replies. “But walking away from something meaningful isn’t the same thing as protecting it.”
I don’t answer.
Patrick sits back again, thoughtful. “I’m not asking you to stay. Not permanently. Not blindly.” He pauses. “I am asking you to take one week.”
“One week,” I repeat flatly. “For what reason? I’m still not going to include this conflict between Crosby and Cherry, and that is true to this team.”
“Fuck the conflict,” he says, and I blink in shock. “I don’t care about that, and you can rest assured, I’m going to handle that with Miller. He’ll either get his wife under control, or he can head down to the minors. I don’t have time for that shit. So really, there’s going to be nothing for you to include in your documentary. It will be moot by the end of the day.”
My jaw drops, both amazed and slightly terrified at the decisive way this man cut through all the bullshit. I actually feel a little sorry for Miller, but Patrick is doing the right thing. Take this fiasco with me and Crosby out of the mix, and he’s got a problem he’s clearly getting ready to nip in the bud.
“Juno,” Patrick says, and my eyes lift to his. “Take a few days and let the emotional temperature drop. Then come back and talk to me again—before you make a final decision.”
I consider that. A week feels like both nothing and everything.
“And if I still want out?” I ask, because even if the documentary itself isn’t compromised, my relationship with Crosby is and I’m not sure I can stay here, day in and day out, seeing the man I lost.
“Then I’ll respect that,” Patrick says.
I nod slowly and rise from the chair. “Okay. I’ll take some time, but I’m going to be honest. I’m really not feeling this anymore. I think… things are ruined.”
“Maybe,” he says, standing from his chair. “But maybe not.” His gaze sharpens slightly. “Where will you go?”
I’ve given this some thought. “I have a personal matter I need to deal with,” I say, and that sounds sort of right. “Family. I might take the time and handle that.”
His expression changes—not surprise, but concern. “Do you need anything?”
“No,” I reply. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
Patrick comes around the desk, extending his hand, and we shake. “I’ll touch base with you next week,” he says. “Take care of what you need to take care of.”
“Thank you.”
I open his office door and step into the quiet hallway, the echo of my footsteps the only sound as I walk away.
One week. Plenty of time to go see my mother, although I’m not quite sure what that will accomplish. It’s been nagging at me, although she hasn’t called again since that first message. Do I need closure, or do I need to run farther away from the man who doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore?