Instead, Claudine and Jack stood up to applaud us. I glanced over at Bastien, who also seemed taken aback. Claudine spoke first. “Bravo. The dailies are merveilleux. The sparks between you two are practically flying off the screen. Kate will be so pleased.”
Yeah, I know, on and off screen. Sparks everywhere!
“They really are,” Jack chimed in. “Plum, Bastien, your banter and playfulness are magical. You’re both reading very natural and unscripted, exactly what we want at Tributary.”
Elliott stepped into the tent, surprised to find me and Bastien standing there.
“Ah, Elliott, good timing,” Claudine said. “We were just telling Plum and Bastien how pleased we are with the dailies.”
Elliott’s eyes gleamed. “Château Mirabelle is a real treasure trove of history, especially what I’ve learned about the role it played in the French Resistance. I think if I could interview some of the townspeople who knew Luc and Imène Adélaïse, we might be able to figure out who ratted them out to the Third Reich. It would add an entirely new angle to the show.”
I turned to Bastien. “No, they were discovered by the Nazis, right? Isn’t that what you told me?”
Elliott shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Somebody would have had to tell them exactly where to look. I was talking to Agnès and Pascal about it this morning, and they have some really interesting theories on what may have happened. I’d love to pick up some of those strands to see where they lead us, I mean, lead me.”
Bastien interrupted, “We’ll have quite enough material with just the house renovation. We don’t want to overshadow the real star of the show with an unnecessary storyline.”
Jack chimed in, his tone measured, “Elliott, if you’re interested in exploring that further on your own time, we can evaluate its potential, but I wouldn’t set high expectations. We already have an abundance of top-notch material right here in front of us, and we should be careful not to overextend ourselves.” He brought his hands together with a soft clap, adding, “For now, let’s stay the course. Keep up the excellent work, all of you. We’ll keep our eyes on the path ahead.”
As my mind raced, recalling my kiss with Bastien, I couldn’t help but chime in, my voice filled with anticipation, “Absolutely, let’s see where this journey takes us.”
Chapter Twenty
Two weeks later and according to René, we’d already fallen at least a month behind on the renovation schedule, and I couldn’t figure out where we’d gone wrong. Bastien blamed the incompetence and insubordination of the crew. He’d fired three workers so far, and we seemed to be growing in shorter and shorter supply of employees who met his high standards. The whole mess had slowed the project so greatly, I really started to worry about meeting the show’s tight deadline.
If I knew one thing, it was that production delays equaled money. Lots of money. And money was not something that producers were happy about wasting, especially for avoidable issues. Maybe they’d blame me and toss me from the project? Or even worse, what if the whole operation folded because this small-bit company didn’t have enough backing to extend production? My mind was reeling, and I could feel a migraine mounting at the base of my skull.
I rubbed my temples and sat on a stone retaining wall in front of the château. Bastien stormed out the front door and stood for a second under the entryway with his hands set firmly on his hips. After a few heated seconds of pacing and muttering to himself, he lifted his head, probably to see if anyone was watching, and caught sight of me. His stance softened, and the corners of his mouth curved up into a smile.
“What is that phrase you Americans say?” He sat down on the wall beside me. “A nickel for your thoughts?”
I laughed and leaned into him. “Penny. A penny for your thoughts.”
“Okay, take all my money for your thoughts. Whatever you like, it is yours.” His thick French accent made his silly banter even cuter. He lifted my hand and pressed my palm to his lips. “These workers don’t know their col from their cul.”
“Their what from their what?”
“They don’t know their collar from ass! I know that you have been worried about the progress, but I promise, even if I have to be here morning, noon, and night. Tout ira bien, comme toujours, we will get it sorted.”
He kissed my forehead and ran the tips of my hair between his fingers. When Bastien spoke to me in French, it was sexy as hell, but I rarely had any clue what he was saying. What did it even matter, though, when he was just so damn charming? “Don’t work too hard. I was hoping we could grab some dinner later. Maybe Chez Noisette?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking maybe more of a night in.” He waggled his eyebrows to emphasize his suggestion.
“You’re working that French-lover stereotype real hard now, aren’t you?” I teased.
He gave his eyebrows one last definitive shimmy. “As if you mind,” he said between brushing a few sweet kisses down the column of my neck before standing.
“Whoa, wait, Romeo, where are you going!?” I said, my skin still tingling in each spot where he’d pressed his soft lips.
“Ma belle, we are already behind schedule,” he joked. “I cannot be responsible for any more delays. Plus, we are going to dinner later, non?”
“I thought we were staying in tonight?” I asked.
“Okay, well, if you insist.” He winked and then headed back toward the house.
As soon as he was within earshot of any worker who would listen, Bastien was already starting back in with the shouting. “Non, non, non!” His voice grew louder with each iteration of the word.
All I could hear from where I was sitting was the worker speaking in rapid French, and Bastien meeting him with furious huffs and grunts. Out of my peripheral, I spotted Elliott coming my way from the house, but I didn’t look up. The pressure in my head was increasing with every disagreement.
Elliott rested his camera equipment against the half wall and then sat next to me, wiping the dust from his sunglasses on his T-shirt. In the last two weeks, we’d settled into a cordial working relationship, realizing we both needed the other if we were to have any hope of success for this project.
“I can’t film any of this. René and him are going at it like two cocks in a ring.” Elliott grunted.
I tilted my head, picking up on the dig at his word choice. “What are they fighting about now?” I asked, not even sure I wanted to know.
“There are issues with the foundation, and the way Bastien wants the plumbing, and the electrical work is not up to code or something like that. I can’t make out enough of the French to really be sure.”
“I’m sure he just wants it all to be perfect. He cares so much about this project. Does Kate have any idea how behind schedule we are?” I asked.
“She says the dailies are testing so well that they’ll find the money to make it work, so it seems we both still have a job, for now.” He smirked and bent down to grab the camera at his feet. “Actually, I had an idea while I was waiting for something filmable in there. How about you and I go shoot a few clips off-site? We can grab some footage from around town and try to interview some locals? Beats sitting on our asses listening to this nonsense for the next few hours.”
“Agreed. I’m sure by the time we return, Bastien will have it all sorted out, and we’ll be back on schedule.” My voice sounded hopeful as I tried to mask my skepticism.
“I doubt it.”
“We’ll see.” I smiled at him, secretly grateful for the excuse of a temporary escape.
