Tracy studied his expression.
She noticed that, on hearing the good news, Landon showed none of the elation she'd expected.
Thinking back to his brooding this morning, that eager kiss, the ad concept he'd just pitched—what exactly was still on his mind?
Tracy's curiosity peaked.
"So," she leaned in, straddled his lap, lifted his chin with one finger and stared straight at him.
"Landon, are you finally going to tell me what you were thinking about this morning?"
Landon lifted his head, meeting Tracy's teasing, all-seeing gaze.
Beside them sat Rachel, openly curious.
He almost blurted out the whole idea of releasing an EP.
But the words died on his tongue.
Releasing an EP was far more complicated than pitching an ad concept.
At the very least he had to "remember" and polish several solid song demos.
The timing wasn't right. He needed more time.
So he swallowed the urge, kissed Tracy's red lips, gave the hip she'd draped across his lap a light pat—and a squeeze.
"Nothing. Just letting my mind wander."
Seeing him stay mum, Tracy arched a brow. She didn't press further. "All right, but remember, love—anything important, you tell us."
Her thoughts swung back to the ad concept; excitement surged again.
"I can't sit still. I have to call Eric right now!" She pecked Landon, sprang up, and strode to the study.
"Hey, Tracy, it's Saturday!" Landon called after her, laughing at her whirlwind energy.
Tracy paused mid-stride, then waved without looking back.
"Doesn't matter! I'm sure Eric won't mind—not with an idea this good!"
Before the words faded she'd disappeared into the study.
A soft thump as the door shut, sealing the two of them off in the living room.
Landon and Rachel exchanged glances.
Rachel shrugged, began clearing the table, and murmured, "That's Tracy in work mode."
Landon leaned back, eyes drifting to the bright sky outside.
Cameron's PR team moved faster than expected.
By Saturday afternoon local entertainment news was already running the story.
Cameron herself didn't appear; her Agent delivered a terse statement on camera.
"Given that Ms. Cameron Diaz is fully committed to the intensive shoot of 'charlies angels', and after careful consideration, she and Mr. Jared Leto have, by mutual agreement, amicably parted ways yesterday due to personality differences. They will each focus on their careers and remain respectful friends."
The statement was brief, but enough to detonate public opinion.
The tabloid that had hinted last week at "trouble in paradise" seized the scoop, rushed out a special edition that sold out by morning.
Within hours every outlet was recycling the news, turning "Cameron is single again" into a media carnival.
So the next morning, when Landon set out for his usual jog, Cameron wasn't at their usual corner.
No surprise there.
At the eye of the storm the newly single star couldn't risk being seen—especially not with another man.
Though the neighborhood prided itself on privacy, no one could guarantee a determined paparazzo hadn't slipped in.
After the run Landon sat on a secluded bench near Cameron's villa.
The morning air was cool. He hesitated, then dialed the number he'd only recently saved.
The phone rang twice. "Hello, Landon, is that you?"
Cameron sounded tired but unmistakably happy.
"It's me." His voice was gentler than usual. "You okay? I saw the news."
"I'm fine, really." Her tone brightened. "I'm so glad you called—this might be the first time you've ever rung me first! Haha."
Her laughter carried down the line, still infectious.
Then softer, apologetic: "But I probably can't see you for a while. The paps are everywhere, and dubbing on charlies angels starts—my schedule's insane. Once things calm down… okay?"
"Okay." Landon replied at once. "Take care of yourself. Rest."
"You too. Stay in touch." Cameron whispered.
He hung up and sat watching treetops dissolve in morning mist.
Hearing her say they'd have to wait loosened the knot her "give me two days" had tied in his chest—yet somehow he felt an odd tug of loss.
The Dove commercial moved ahead with startling speed.
After Tracy's emergency Saturday call, Director Eric greeted Landon's concept with fervor: "We're using this! Perfect—exactly the vibe I want!"
That same day he faxed Tracy's home several hand-drawn storyboard panels based on Landon's description.
Landon asked for only minor tweaks; the concept was essentially locked.
On Monday Eric delivered the polished script and boards to Mars' North-American marketing team.
Approval came with head-spinning swiftness.
The clever idea—blending product charm with a romantic meet-cute—clearly dazzled Mars' decision-makers.
Not only was it green-lit immediately, it earned special attention from top brass; budget and schedule rocketed through unheard-of fast.
The only hiccup came when one exec wondered about the male lead's star-power opposite Catherine Zeta-Jones: "This Landon Williams… is he famous enough? Will he feel lightweight?"
But after seeing Landon's Delmont stills the exec's doubts largely faded.
And when he learned the dazzling concept had come from the actor himself, any remaining resistance evaporated.
Talent, sometimes, is the best calling card.
In the end Mars paid a whopping 1.2 million for the concept—above even Tracy's highest estimate.
Shooting dates aligned with Catherine Zeta-Jones' team in record time: cameras roll next Monday.
No one bothered to "check" the male lead's availability.
Understandable—Landon's level is easy to overlook.