Page 56 of Love Unscripted
“That’s what you said. I didn’t know if it were true.”
“So you were like the others in the Christian community who thought I was a charlatan. A fraud.”
“Can you blame us?” he asked gently. “We’ve seen people claim the gospel while their lives suggest something else entirely. You weren’t a known quantity to me. You’d declared Christianity only weeks earlier. There wasn’t enough fruit yet.”
“So what convinced you?”
“The studio decided for me. They argued you’d draw audiences. I didn’t fight too hard—partly because compromises had already been made on my behalf.”
Her head tilted. “Compromises on what?”
He hesitated. How much of his soul did he want to bare? Yet the openness in her gaze invited trust.
“I pioneered the project. Partnered with Ray to pitch it to the studio. They loved the script. Accepted me as lead actor. But when I asked to direct, they pushed back.”
“Why? You’ve directed before.”
“Yes—but only indie films. This was my first major studio project. They thought it was a risk.”
“What changed their minds?”
“I presented my plan. Promised to deliver under twelve weeks and within budget.” He paused. “And I agreed to a pay cut.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t know that.”
“You do what you have to do.”
“Oh, Aaron. I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I just realized how my rebellion on set must have looked to you. After everything you’d agreed to, I complicated things.”
He smiled sheepishly. “Honestly? The fact that you were their choice and not mine helped me deflect their anger. I reminded Ray of that.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I see. You tried to throw me under the bus.”
He raised his hands. “I wasn’t the one who was being rebellious. And I didn’t throw you under the bus. When they suggested recasting you, I told them I’d speak with you first.”
“Hmm.”
He laughed and reached out, squeezing her shoulder. “Lighten up. Despite the issues, the screen lit up every time you appeared. You just needed some… disciplining.”
She laughed outright. “Disciplining? Aaron Cortelli, you wish. And remember you admitted you played a part in my rebellion.”
“I did. I was high-handed.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid you’d turn Esther into a caricature. Or Queen Aradia.” He winced. “I repented.”
“Yes. Not in sackcloth and ashes.”
“There are limits—especially when the crime is shared.”
They both broke into laughter simultaneously.
When their laughter faded, he said, “Okay. Application.”
