Page 77 of Highlands Summer Wedding

He rested his cheek on the top of my head. “Shane wants to work with you.”

“Oh?” was all I could manage.

“He can’t finance a selkie movie right now, but there’s a Christmas movie.”

“Oh.”

A Christmas movie? Probably set in the present, so lower budget. Highly marketable. No A-list stars needed. I liked Christmas movies. They were in my wheelhouse.

“Angus wants to get into executive producing as an angel investor.” Max continued as we swayed to the music. “I put him in touch with Shane. They thought a Christmas movie about an American who inherits a home in the Highlands might be fun. He bought the life rights to Melissa’s story and has offered up his own life rights. You can write it if you want, or he can hire a writer—and you can produce and direct it.”

I toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as I pondered the pros and cons.

Max waited patiently for my response.

“I don't know what to say,” I said. “That's a huge opportunity… and an even bigger decision.”

Working alongside Max was fun, but period films may be too demanding for someone dipping her toes back into the industry. I’d love to direct, but I’d rather start with something without pressure to win awards. A simple rom com. Given my experience in wedding planning, this might be the perfect project for me, and if we film in Scotland, Max and I can be together even while working separately.

“Christmas movies are way easier to make than a selkie movie,” I added. “Modest budget, guaranteed audience, video-on-demand friendly. Easy sell.”

“I think you’d have fun with that.”

Max took my hand and twirled me around the dance floor. Outside, the storm had cleared completely.

I leaned into him and stayed there. Through the window I could see the loch, perfectly still under the first stars.

EPILOGUE

One year later…

Greenhill House has yellow signs pointing to “BASE CAMP,” with trailers set up in the back. A white catering tent stands in front of the trailers, while a slew of camera equipment forms the video village. I rise from my director’s chair that reads “ABBY MONTGOMERY” and reach for the walkie clipped to my jeans.

“Reset. Going again real quick.”

“ROLL SOUND!”

A young man holding a boom mic yells, “Speed!”

“ROLL CAMERA!”

The director of photography shouts, “Rolling!”

I look at the actors, take a deep breath and shout, “ACTION!”

As if by magic, words on a page become something real.

“CUE JINGLES!” I say into the walkie.

The animal wrangler holds out a treat and tosses it toward the actors playing Melissa and Colin. The dog races after it, and fortunately the treat is so small the camera won’t pick up our little trick… or we’ll edit it out in post.

“CUT! Great—check the gate,” I call out.

The 1st AC comes back with, “Gate is good!”

“Moving on to 14B,” the AD shouts down the line, and the crew scatters to reset.

Max walks over in the lull and hands me a cup of coffee.