Evie: I think I’m getting there with an idea for my short. Would love to hear what you’ve got too. When’s a good time to catch up?

In the last hour, Evie had managed to turn her screenplay idea into an, albeit very raw, two-page treatment. She had always planned on turning her story into a ninety-minute feature, but now that she had cut down the idea, it seemed to work much better than before. It was still romantic and modern and diverse, but now that all the side character storylines and grandiose political agendas were gone, she could focus on the key elements of the narrative. Perhaps this was why she’d been getting distracted all along. She wanted a classic yet modern romantic tale, and now she had one.

She stared out the window and took a long swig of her extra strong latte, spotting Hugo across the street. He was frowning, holding his phone to his ear and gesticulating as he spoke, a dark expression clouding his face as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. Evie wondered what could be upsetting him so much. The text he had received that morning had made everything sound so promising. Perhaps the meeting with his publisher hadn’t gone as planned and Liam was sending him into a spiral. He seemed to do that.

After what looked like a final angry back and forth, Hugo said a brusque goodbye and hung up. Feeling somehow as if she were intruding on a very private moment for him, but unable to look away, Evie watched as he stood still for a while, gathering himself but clearly upset. She was just contemplating going out to talk to him when he took a deep breath before crossing the road and entering the cafe. Running his eyes over the room, a smile instantly formed on his face as he spotted her, and she wondered if she’d imagined his dark mood outside.

He bent down to kiss her on the forehead, cupping her cheeks in his hands. ‘Boy, am I glad to see you.’

Evie studied his face as he sat down, switched his phone to silent and put it on the table.

‘How did it go?’ asked Evie.

Hugo rattled off everything he had discussed with the publisher, including the British and US producers who were interested in optioning the book for a film. He barely took a breath, pausing only briefly to order a hot chocolate.

Relieved by Hugo’s genuine excitement, Evie expressed her enthusiasm about the producers she thought would do a good job, interested that Louise Chang, the producer who she knew ended up optioning Henrietta’s Gift hadn’t yet been in contact. Maybe she’d picked it up after an option fell through. It happened all the time.