Page 33 of The Uncomplicated Café
His mother handed him a glass of water. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’ll be our little secret.”
Jayce guzzled the cool liquid, then swallowed, finally able to breathe again. “Mom, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She offered a patient smile. “Sweetheart, I’ve known how you feel about CeCe for years. I can see it in the way you look at her. It’s the same way your—” She stopped short, her features strained as she glanced at the floor. Was she about to saythe same way your father used to look at me?
Straightening, she wiped her hands on her apron, her calm countenance restored. “I think it’s sweet you’re going to such great lengths to woo her, but honey, real life isn’t like one of your romantic comedies. Love doesn’t require some elaborate ruse. You could’ve just asked her to dinner and told her how you feel.”
“Mom, that’s not— I don’t—” He stumbled over his words, heat creeping up his neck. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” He noticed he hadn’t denied being in love with CeCe, only that she hadn’t been his motive for the fake engagement. “I’m just trying to help a friend.” He tried to sound confident in his claim, but was it true? He’d thought so. But now, faced with his mother’s wild theories, he wasn’t so sure.
Thankfully, before she could press further, his phone rang.
He checked the caller ID, and his pulse quickened.
“Sorry, Mom. Gotta take this.” He slipped off the stool and stepped into the next room.
“Mr. Delance, hi. Thanks for calling.” Jayce wiped a sweaty palm on his jeans.
“Call me Victor.” The man’s rich, deep voice carried above the cacophony of a fancy dinner party in the background. “I gotta admit, kid. I almost didn’t call. But Steve’s a good friend of mine.”
“I understand, sir. And I appreciate your time.” Jayce’s heart hammered in his throat.
“Steve’s the best director in the biz,” Victor Delance continued. “When he sends a project my way, I tend to trust his judgment.”
Jayce nodded, even though the producer couldn’t see him.
“He says you have a script I should take a look at. Why don’t you—” Muffled voices cut off his sentence, momentarily drawing Victor away from their conversation.
With the phone pressed tightly to his ear like a permanent appendage, Jayce paced the carpet in the sitting room—a paisley wool pattern he didn’t recognize. Another item his mother had replaced after the divorce.Good grief. Focus, man. Jayce forced himself to stand still, waiting in agonizing silence.
“Sorry about that,” Victor said after the longest pause in human history. “Listen, kid. I won’t make any promises, but bring the script and a synopsis to the award ceremony this Friday, buy me a drink at the after-party, and I’ll take a look.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”
“By the way,” Victor added. “What’s it called?”
“What’s it called?” Jayce asked dumbly.
“The script, son. I assume your movie has a title.”
“Right. Yeah. Of course.”Smooth. You’re a regular Aaron Sorkin.After gathering a breath, he slowly released it. “The Uncomplicated Café.”
A weighty lull followed, during which Jayce reevaluated all his life choices. Why hadn’t he titled his film something else? Something less obtuse. Less artsy. Who did he think he was? Woody Allen?
After a beat, Victor said, “Interesting. I like it. We’ll see how it holds up.”
And with that, the producer who cradled the fate of Jayce’s fledgling screenwriting career in his hands ended the call.
Jayce didn’t move.
This was the moment he’d fantasized about for most of his life.
The moment he’d been working toward ever since October 15 last year, when CeCe unknowingly pushed him to take the plunge—to finally face all the fears that had kept his dream on permanent pause.
Part of him couldn’t wait to tell her the news. The other more vulnerable part didn’t know how. Especially since she’d served as inspiration.
Plus, he needed to face one crucial but debilitating detail about his script: It didn’t have an ending yet.
Chapter Twenty
