CHAPTER TEN
“Do you even want to do another Thunder movie?”
Sam couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with one of his best friends Nate Mason. He’d assumed that they were all done with the Thunder franchise. They’d fulfilled their contracts and even the last film had felt a little tired, the premise having run its course. The studio had more movies planned but with a younger, fresher cast, including the hot new actor on the block Kirby Glenn. Now, however, based on some focus group from hell, the studio wanted to bring back some of the original cast including Sam, Nate, Max, and Tyler.
“Not particularly,” Nate replied, his voice soft. His wife Paige had just put their twin babies Andrew and Annabelle down for the night and he didn’t want to wake them up. They’d been cranky because of the time change between London and New York where the couple was filming the adaptation of one of Paige’s novels. “I don’t even know how they would write my character since he died in the last movie, for chrissake.”
Sam had forgotten about that. Nate’s character had been killed and his death had spurred the entire team to go and get the bad guys.
“That would be a problem unless they want you to show up as the voice of a ghost or our conscience. Did they indicate how they would bring you back?”
“My agent thinks they’re thinking a prequel. A movie that wouldn’t be with the newer cast but one with just us old farts. Jesus, I’m too old to be jumping off buildings on a motorcycle. What about you?”
If Nate was too old, then Sam was ancient.
“I’m definitely too old.”
Nate chuckled on the other end. “That’s not what I was asking. Are you interested in doing another Thunder movie? Whether it’s a prequel or a continuing part of a series?”
“No.”
That was the short answer.
“My agent says they’re going to throw a truckload of money at us.”
That’s what Sam’s agent had said as well. Money up front and points on the back end too, plus producer credits.
“How much money do you need? Those kids already running up bills?” Sam teased his friend. “If I remember correctly, you’re so frugal you should squeak when you walk. You must have saved a mint these last ten years.”
“It’s not the babies, they’re great. But you know how expensive it is to produce your own movies? I’d rather be able to finance them myself than have to go begging for cash from investors. I think you would, too.”
And that was the longer answer. Sam had all the money he would ever need. Personally.
Professionally was a whole other kettle of fish. More money equaled the ability to get projects green-lighted that right now were only a pipe dream. He could even have it written into his contract that if he did the Thunder movie the studio would finance his next indie project.
“It would have to be a pretty big money truck,” Sam finally replied. “I’m kind of over my character and I think I’ve done all I can with him, frankly.”
“The studio execs don’t care about art. They only see dollar signs.”
“I know and that explains the last two pictures, but another one? Are they planning to turn back the hands of time and make all of us look younger, too? We started making these films thirteen years ago and now they want to do a prequel. We’re going to need a plastic surgeon on the set.”
“No one with a knife is coming near me,” Nate growled. “I’m with you about the movie but I’m not sure I can pass up the money, to be honest, although I hate to say it. That kind of payday would go a long way toward a second film for Paige’s book series.”
“What does Max and Tyler say?”
“You know Tyler,” Nate laughed. “He said he was booked for the next two years but if they wanted to wait he’d think about it, which is basically his way of saying no. Max would rather have oral surgery with no anesthetic, or at least that’s how he put it. You know he’s getting ready to start rehearsals for a play in the West End, so his mind isn’t on Hollywood.”
“Well, I told my agent that I wasn’t committing to anything until I saw a contract, a finished script, and the director attached to the project.”
Actually, he’d said that he wanted directorial approval but Nate didn’t need to know that. Hell, Nate may have said the same.
“With any luck this will all go away like so many ideas do,” Nate said. “So when are we going to see you again? Don’t you start filming in New York in a few weeks?”
“I do,” Sam confirmed, stretching out on the sofa of his mother’s living room. It was unnaturally quiet when Paula wasn’t there. She’d gone shopping with Riley and Tara. “Looking forward to it. The script is good, the cast is good, and the director isn’t an egotistical asshole. It might even be fun.”
“Are ready to get back to work? It must be boring sitting on the beach all day long working on your tan.”
Sam hadn’t been to the beach since the night he and Riley had taken a walk after dinner. He’d made double-sure that they didn’t share any more moonlit strolls together after that first one. She’d been far too beautiful and tempting for a mere mortal man such as himself. The sooner he exited town the better. He was enjoying her company far too much for comfort.
He didn’t have what she needed. A woman like Riley needed a husband and a family. The kind of man that sat down to dinner every night and went to the hardware store on the weekends so he could tinker with some home improvement project. The kind of man that was there when the chips were down and the shit hit the fan. He wasn’t that guy.
“I’m ready. Let’s meet up when I get to New York.”
Tomorrow night he’d escort Riley to the party and make sure that Chad and Monica knew that she wasn’t heartbroken or sad. Then Sunday morning he’d pack his bags and hightail it out of town. He’d enjoyed every single second that he’d spent with her this week, but that was all he was going to get. If he was smart, he’d keep his distance tomorrow night, play it cool and not get too close.
But then no one had ever accused him of being all that intelligent.