John knew all about compromise, and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again. He picked up the pages and put them back in his bag.

“Unwavering commitment to a passion project is a good way to let other opportunities pass you by,” Anna said, sounding like she was speaking from experience.

“I’m not going to let this script be diminished.”

Anna looked pleased by his answer, as much as she might think the ultimate goal was out of his reach. “Knowing what you want is the first battle.” He liked that she didn’t appease him or sugarcoat her thoughts.

“What was it really like, growing up with an addict?”

John hadn’t expected that question. “Well, therapy helps, and my dad’s sober. He has his own restaurant in Bend. He’s doing well.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get a major studio to make a movie about addiction”—John shrugged—”but other than that, I’m doing okay.”

The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t awkward. He liked the calm of this afternoon. He liked sitting in this dark booth as if the rest of the industry with its demands and its preconceived notions didn’t exist. They had nowhere better to be, and this was quite fine as it was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like he’d made a new friend instead of another contact. Admittedly, some of his thoughts had been more than friendly.

Anna’s eyes sparkled when she spoke with an impassioned voice, drawing him to her like a spotlight looking for its star. John had been used as one-night arm candy when he’d first moved to LA. It had fulfilled what he’d needed at the time—short-term excitement that quenched his desire until the next invitation. Lately, though, he had been uninterested in a night of superficial fun. He guessed Anna Kovács didn’t make such decisions lightly, and he found himself intrigued by what she might want. Not that he had any right to assume she was even single.

Anna rested her head in her hands, nudging John out of his inappropriate thoughts. She tilted her face to meet his eyes. She gazed at him like she was contemplating a scene to be filmed. The set, actors, and lights, all ready to begin, waiting for her say-so. Her gaze was deep, and he wanted very much to know what lay behind it. “When did you decide to actually do it? You know, actually try to sell a script, not just leave it sitting on your laptop and then go to graduate school or whatever.”

“You know that feeling when you leave a movie theater, and your life’s been changed? Like you have a window into another world, and yours is better for it?”