“He’s called Blake Scott,” says Rosie.
“I like it,” says Max, grunting. “Blake Scott. What does he look like?”
“Like you,” says Rosie. “Exactly like you.”
Max pulls a dress shirt over his head. “Maybe he could have a mustache?”
“Could do,” agrees Rosie. She has dealt with, dated, and divorced many actors in her time. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.”
“That’s what you get with Max Highfield,” says Max Highfield. He motions for Abby to pass him a bow tie. “So Henk says you’re a writer?”
“Me?” says Rosie. “Yes.”
“I write too,” says Max, now reaching his hand out to Abby for a thick, green smoothie.
“Have you sold sixty million books?” Rosie asks.
“Nah,” says Max. “Books are too twentieth century. I write poems mainly. Stream-of-consciousness stuff. Not even poems, really, a whole different art form. I don’t think you’d be able to describe them.”
“Oh, I bet I could have a good go,” says Rosie.
“So I’m Blake Scott,” says Max. “And I’ve got a mustache. What else? It’s pretty thin so far, writer.”
Max nods over to Steve.
“And who’s he?”
“Steve,” says Steve. “I’m the producer.”
Max nods. “You sweat a lot, my friend.”
“It’s very hot,” says Steve. “And I’m wearing a suit.”
“I don’t sweat,” says Max.
“No?” says Rosie.
“A lot of good people don’t,” says Max. “Okay, I don’t like this idea.”
“You haven’t heard it yet,” says Rosie.
“I’m not feeling it, though,” says Max.
This is one of the many reasons why, whenever Rosie sells one of her books to Hollywood, she doesn’t like to get involved. Bank the check, turn up at the premiere, chat with Graham Norton, job done.
“Also, I don’t just do action,” says Max. “I did Shakespeare at school. But go on, I’ve got a couple of minutes till I’m onstage.”
“It’s a story about money-smuggling, Max,” Rosie begins.
“Like…smuggling money?” replies Max.
“Yes, like that,” confirms Rosie. “It’s the story of a syndicate that pays influencers to smuggle bags of money around the world.”
Not a flicker from Max, so far. “And that’s illegal?”
“Yes,” says Steve. “It is.”
“This bloody government,” says Max. “Okay, so is Blake Scott an influencer?”
“No,” says Steve. “He’s the one in control of the syndicate.”
“So he’s a bad guy?” says Max, finally pulling on some trousers. “I don’t really play bad guys.”
“He’s nuanced,” says Rosie.
“I don’t do nuance either,” says Max. “Nuance is too woke.”
“I’ve hacked into The Hampstead Dog Hotel,” Abby announces, bringing her laptop over to Max.
Max eagerly takes the laptop and starts cooing. Rosie raises an eyebrow at Abby.
“Mr. Highfield’s dogs are at a residential facility in North London,” says Abby. “I’ve just hacked into their outdoor security cameras so he can see his dogs.”
“Is that legal?” Steve asks.
“Any cameras facing public spaces are legal to view,” says Abby. “Very difficult to access but legal to view.”
Max is tearing up. “They look so happy. Thanks, Abby.”
