Wynn shook it. “The pleasure is mine, Breck. You haven’t written a bad screenplay yet.”
Breck chuckled. “Oh, I have, Brother. They just haven’t seen the light of day.” He took a plate and loaded it with pizza as Rhett removed the final one from the brick oven.
Cassie opened an ice chest and distributed cold bottled waters as everyone moved to an oversized picnic table to eat. Once more, Scarlett found herself next to Wynn. With so many gathered, her leg rested snuggly against his.
Causing her insides to play let’s pretend we’re Olympian gymnasts.
“Mmm. This is amazing, Rhett,” Sydney declared.
“Yeah. If that acting thing doesn’t work out for you, buddy, you may have a career in dough,” Dash added.
They enjoyed an hour of eating and casual conversation. Scarlett was pleased when Wynn jumped right in. He’d held back at the charity dinner the other night but she determined having met everyone before except Breck had put him more at ease.
“Did you drive or fly in from Vegas?” she asked Breck.
“I drove. It’s only about four hours. I like the time spent in the car, out on the open road. It’s my uninterrupted think about plot and characters time.” Breck glanced at Cassie. “Especially when we’re having a little trouble with the direction of what we’re writing.” He looked to Wynn. “Cassie told me you’d be perfect for Mark Brockwell. Talk to me, Wynn. About anything. I want to get a feel for your speech rhythm and personality. Not that you’re anything like Mark Brockwell.” He grinned. “At least, I don’t think you’re a murdering philanderer who wins a senate race and sets his aim for the presidency.”
Wynn looked taken aback.
Cassie glared at Breck. “Wynn didn’t know anything about Mark. Way to go, Mr. Charming. Bulldoze your way in and make Wynn think I’m nuts for wanting to write for him and our character being so evil.”
Wynn recovered quickly. “I’m actually flattered you think I could pull something like that off. It would be an interesting challenge and different from anything I’ve ever done. My attorney character was very earnest and naïve for the three years I spent in that role. The surgeon I played was uber confident but fair. Carbon Man is, well, Carbon Man. I think it’s terrific you think I have more range.”
“Oh, you definitely have more to show the public, Wynn,” Cassie affirmed. “You’ve barely scratched the surface of what you’re capable of portraying. Breck is right, though. We want to hear a little about you and we can share about this script, as well. It’s in the really early stages and if it’s something you’d consider doing, then we’d appreciate your input.”
“You . . . want my input?” he asked, surprise obvious in his voice.
“We don’t always write with a person in mind,” Breck said. “However, Cassie was sold on you from the beginning.”
Wynn turned to her. “We just met the other night, Cassie.”
Rhett chuckled and threaded his fingers through hers. “My wife is a terrific judge of character and talent. If she thinks you can do it, believe you can, Wynn.” He looked at her. “Cassie believed in me when no one else did.”
Scarlett had to look away. She adored how affectionate her brother and sister-in-law were with one another but tonight it saddened her. It made the emptiness inside her seem even vaster than ever before.
“You need to know I’m locked into two more superhero films for Rylon Pictures,” Wynn said. “It would be two years before I could even think about doing this.”
Cassie shrugged. “We can wait. Breck and I knock out a good three screenplays a year, sometimes more. First, we’d need to finish this one. I have two others I’m working on solo and we have another we’ve toyed with.”
“What’s your process?” Wynn asked. “I’m curious how writers collaborate.”
Breck laughed. “Our process. Let’s see . . . how do I explain it?”
“We always outline together,” Cassie said. “I insist on that so we know the direction of the story.”
“We’ve done it every which way after that,” Breck continued. “Cassie’s written a first draft. I went in and rewrote it. Then she went at it again. Other times, she’s written the entire first half while I worked on the back part and we switch up. What’s worked for us lately is every other scene. She writes the first and emails it to me. I read it, make some quick corrections, and give her notes before I send it back. Then I write the next scene while she polishes the first. We go through the same process, alternating scenes, until the script is done. For some reason, that’s been the pattern we’re settling into. We’ll meet in person sometimes to hash out things, too.”
Cassie giggled. “Usually, we meet when Breck says he can’t face changing another dirty diaper. We like to do a read-through, just the two of us, testing our dialogue aloud to see if it flows.”
Wynn nodded. “Both of you also write separate screenplays.”
“We’re still partners in that endeavor,” Cassie revealed. “I show Breck my outline and we brainstorm through it, adding and deleting things. I write my draft and then send the entire thing to him to read through. He returns it with his notes and I take another crack at it based upon his suggestions.”
“I do the same,” Breck confirmed. “Cassie reads everything I write. I add her spit and polish it up. In the end, our so-called solo efforts only have one name on them but we have each other’s six.” He paused. “So, have at it, Wynn. Talk to us. Let us get to know you.”
Scarlett saw Wynn looked uncomfortable with all of the attention suddenly upon him. “Why don’t you tell us a little about your family and your background?” she suggested.
He seemed to relax with having a direction to go. “Okay. I grew up in a
