Harlequin Desire January 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 by Maisey Yates (inspirational books .TXT) 📗

a motorized chair. His lips split into a smile. “This is an honor. Welcome to Miami.”

Over lunch, they discussed the California wildfires, at last under control. “With the sea levels rising,” Julian said, “you must worry—”

Francisco interrupted him midsentence. “You and I are not going to solve climate change, not today. So why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

Julian took a gulp of water. This would be the first time he discussed his project with anyone, and he was nervous. “I’m here to shoot my first film.”

“Going independent,” Francisco said. “JL Knight Productions… That’s got a nice ring to it.”

Julian didn’t dispute it, but he’d settled on Knight Films.

“Good luck to you,” Francisco said. “I mean it. In my day, when the business spit you out, you were done. So I admire what you’re doing. But here’s the thing—if you’ve come to offer me the role of the grandpa with the heart of gold, you can forget it. I’ve retired. I don’t play grandpas. I sure as hell don’t play characters with hearts of gold.”

Julian sat back in his chair and considered the clear-eyed man opposite him. He’d come to the right place. “I’ve come to ask you to direct.”

“You might have inhaled a little too much smoke in the fire,” Francisco said, deadpan.

“Back in ’91, you made a short film that debuted in Toronto.”

Francisco dismissed his words with a wave of a hand. “That was just for fun.”

“Fun is what I’m after,” Julian said. “I watched it five times. As I’ve watched all your films.”

“Not all of them, I hope,” Francisco said with a chuckle. “Some of them were trash.”

Francisco Cortes had played the quintessential Latin lover in countless films. He was magnetic on camera, commanding every scene he was in. But a near-fatal car accident had left him disabled and killed his career.

“Wouldn’t you have liked to direct given the chance?” Julian asked.

“Well, now.” Francisco ran his fingers along his well-trimmed goatee. “If anyone had predicted that I’d be having this discussion with JL Knight, I wouldn’t have believed them.”

“That’s ’cause you’re not.” Julian felt compelled to reintroduce himself at every turn, like some parody of James Bond. “I’m Julian. You can forget JL.”

“Don’t wipe out your legacy. On winter nights we screen movies out here.” He made a gesture capturing the world within the coral rock wall surrounding the estate: his home, the garden with its tangles of tropical plants, a kidney-shaped pool and a hot tub fitted under a pergola. “Thunder is always a crowd pleaser.”

Julian clasped his hands together. “Happy to hear it.”

“Tell me about your project.”

Years ago, a UCLA film school student and waiter at one of his favorite taco spots had pitched Julian a story based on a true crime set in LA. The half-baked pitch was a nonstarter, but it had planted a seed in Julian’s mind. On and off, he’d worked on a script of his own set in Miami. Midnight Sun was a heist film loosely based on the story of a Miami heiress who fell victim to her con-artist boyfriend.

“Yeah… I read about that,” Francisco said. “He stole her jewels during a solar eclipse.”

“Hence the title.”

“And you’d play the con artist.”

“That’s the idea,” Julian said. “It’s a supporting role. This heiress is the lead.”

“Very smart. You plan to film here in Miami?”

Julian relaxed into his chair. Francisco was asking all the right questions. “Can’t do it convincingly anywhere else.”

“Florida doesn’t offer tax incentives,” Francisco said. “Broward County has a program. You might want to consider filming some scenes there.”

Julian was open to anything, so long as he could shoot some scenes at Sand Castle.

“I’ll make a few calls. Find out what kinds of incentives are out there,” Francisco said. “Meanwhile, send me the script.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Julian pulled a copy of the screenplay from his leather messenger bag and handed it over. “If you’d like an electronic copy, just give me your email address.”

Francisco flipped through the pages. “You wrote this?”

Julian mumbled his answer, fearful of Francisco’s reaction. What if he thought it a joke and withdrew his support? But the older man chuckled good-naturedly. “You surprise me, Julian.”

For the next couple of hours, they discussed financing and distribution options. Julian had reached out to a production company and had secured some financing. Francisco had not committed to the project, but he promised to help raise more funds and support Julian in every possible way.

“What are your plans for today?” Francisco asked. “I’m having a family cookout. You’re welcome to join us.”

“Thanks, but I’m meeting with friends.”

With that lie, Julian ended the meeting. He was not in the holiday cookout or party mood. His driver, a young guy who went only by Pete, was waiting outside. Kat had secured his services for the duration of his stay. On the drive back to the hotel, he asked question after question until Julian slipped on his earphones to signal the Q&A session was over. The rest of the ride was blissfully quiet and, by the time he got back to Sand Castle, he’d received good news and bad news via text message.

The good news was from Francisco. He’d immediately reached out to friends at a local arts foundation and put in an informal request for grant funding. “They won’t turn me down.” The bad news was from Kat. A photo of him and Nina Taylor had surfaced on social media. It was a grainy cell phone pic of the two of them on the balcony.

In the photo, they were staring at each other. Julian was dropped back in time to the moment Nina had threatened to toss him over the balcony if he called her Goldilocks again. She was looking up at him with a glint of defiance in her eyes. He’d loved the display of bravado and it showed on his face. The social media caption read: Kiss Already!

Julian let out a sigh. He only had himself to blame. He knew better than to stand on an open