Parisian Nights Page 4

  “So, do you have a question?” she asked.

  “Nope. Not at the moment. I’ll let you know.”

  My mind was full of too much to think about. Hal had asked for some additional information about Elemental Energy, which I’d sent to him. He was asking smart questions, but I took satisfaction in the fact that I’d already asked them of myself. I had a couple of meetings this week with other investors, but I hoped I’d have an answer from Hal before then.

  And then there was Beth. She seemed happy now. Her studies seemed to be going well. But I wanted her to have a circle of friends—a support system other than me. I couldn’t be there all the time, and she needed to get out more.

  Jesus, I was tense. I should get back into my running, or perhaps I’d call Millie. I wasn’t sure I’d categorize Millie as my girlfriend, but I was dating her at the moment and I needed a release.

  “So, what can you tell me about Sandy?” Haven asked.

  I sat back down next to her. “Nothing really. I don’t know her that well.”

  “Seems to me you know her pretty well.”

  “She’s just friendly. We have a mutual friend in common, that’s all. Anyway, isn’t that why you’re here? To get to know her?”

  “Don’t tell me her sister is your ex-girlfriend?” she asked.

  “Why is it you think you have me all figured out? You keep making all these comments about me and who you think I am. I thought you were meant to be a journalist. Aren’t you supposed to research, ask questions and look for evidence rather than jump to conclusions?”

  “It was a question,” she replied, trying not to sulk.

  “It was a leading question, full of assumptions. For your information, no, Dave is our mutual friend, who I met in college. And before you ask, I’ve not fucked him either.”

  Haven started laughing, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “So tell me, have I got it so wrong about you?” she asked.

  “I have no idea who, in that twisted little head of yours, I’m supposed to be. All I know is that you haven’t known me long enough to know anything about me.”

  “So tell me.”

  “I’m the one asking the questions.” I wasn’t about to start spilling my life story to her, but I liked that she’d asked.

  “Not so far,” she said.

  “Patience is a virtue, haven’t you heard?”

  “I don’t have any. Haven’t you heard?” she asked me back.

  “You don’t have any virtues?” What did she mean?

  She shrugged. “You’ll hear them gossiping, if you haven’t already.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been in the office much.”

  “You’ll see,” she said.

  “What? I’ll see you being bitchy to everyone?”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Anyway, there’s not many people there that think I have any virtues.”

  “Does that bother you?” It sounded like it did.

  “Is that an official question?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  She shrugged. “Sometimes.” It seemed like it upset her, which I didn’t understand. Why didn’t she make more of an effort to be likeable if it bothered her?

  “Harry! Get over here,” Sandy screamed from across the set. She was waving and bouncing up and down next to some people huddled over a screen.

  I made my way across to her and she clasped her arms around my waist. I hoped she was just being friendly.

  “What do you think?” She pointed to the monitor and the scene they’d been shooting was playing out. “I’m so nervous! I hope I’m not going to sink this ship.”

  “You’re amazing, doll. A very talented lady,” one of the men dressed in black said to her. She grinned up at me.

  “I’m sure you’re doing great,” I reassured her. “Seems great.”

  I glanced back at Haven. She was watching. I held her gaze for longer than I meant to. That girl was going to be trouble for me.

  “Do you have a break now? You, me and Haven could have coffee.”

  “Can’t it just be you and me? I don’t think she likes me.”

  “What do you mean? She’s a total fan. She told me that she’s really nervous about meeting you. She was playing your songs in the car on the drive up here. It’s been driving me insane.”

  “She has?” She giggled.

  I was going to hell.

  “Sure. You’ll really like her when you get to know her.”

  A special place in hell reserved only for the biggest liars.

  Sandy didn’t let go of me as we made our way back to Haven.

  “Come on, Haven, let’s go and grab ourselves some coffee.” I winked at her and was sure I saw a trace of pink in her cheeks.

  “So, how is your first day going?” Haven asked Sandy as we found a table toward the back of the stage and coffees magically appeared in front of us. Haven pulled out a Diet Coke from her bag.

  “Well, I have nothing to compare it to. I’m just trying to enjoy myself and leave it to all the talented cast and crew to make me look good.”

  “Is this the first film offer you’ve had?”

  Jesus couldn’t she have phrased that a little differently? Sandy could be prickly. Haven needed to tread lightly. I could see the pout forming around Sandy’s lips.

  “She meant the first one you’ve had a chance to seriously consider. Now that you’re established in your singing career.”

  Haven’s eyes flicked to me. She looked slightly frightened and nodded. “Yes, exactly. I mean, you must get tons of offers. What made you accept this one?”

  Sandy relaxed her shoulders. “Well, I adore the director. Love Etcetera, his film before this one, is one of my favorite films, and he told me when he read the script he couldn’t see anyone but me in the role. He said he’d wait for my tour to be over to start filming. And the writer said he’d written the part just for me. Plus, I love the fact that I can spend some time in London. I know we have to film in Paris a little, but mostly we’re here at Pinewood Studios, so it’s great. I get to catch up with old friends like Harry.”

  She reached across and stroked my thigh. I was going to have to discourage her attentions without upsetting her.

  Haven’s eyes went to Sandy’s hand and then up to my face.

  Haven

  I bet he had slept with her despite his denial. She was all over him like a disease, and she was gorgeous and tiny and had a permanent smile on her face. She couldn’t keep her hands off him, and was offering it up to him on a plate. There was no way a guy would say no to her. He wasn’t fighting her off, but there was nothing I could see that made me believe he wasn’t encouraging her. Maybe he hid it well, or perhaps he just didn’t have to.

  “Sandy, we need you.” One of the crewmembers interrupted our short conversation, leaving Harry and me on our own again.

  “She seems friendly,” I said. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. He was holding up his end of the deal. Sandy had been getting pissed off about the question of this being her first film offer before he saved the day. I didn’t want to alienate our star before I’d even begun.

  “Do you always wear your hair scraped back like that?” he asked as he stood up and headed back toward our allocated chairs. I could do nothing but follow him.

  “Is that a question?” It sounded like a criticism. I glanced back at Sandy with her beautiful chestnut hair, blown out so perfectly. Surely she didn’t look like that every day?

  “If you don’t understand whether or not I’m asking you a question, you might want to rethink your day job.” Harry grinned, and I automatically smiled back at him.

  “I meant is it one of your questions that I have to answer?” I asked.

  “You have to answer everything I ask.”

  I frowned at him. “I always wear it up for work.”

  “It’s quite severe.”

  My stomach clenched. Had he compared me directly with Sandy?


  “Okay, not a question,” he said. “It’s just . . . I think it would look better down.”

  I couldn’t decide if I was insulted or intrigued that he had considered what I would look like with my hair down. I fought a smile that he’d thought about it at all.

  When I didn’t respond he spoke again. “Tell me what I’ll hear about you at work. You mentioned before that people talk about you.”

  I shifted in my seat and smoothed my hair back. Was he deliberately trying to make me feel uncomfortable? I shrugged.

  “We have a deal,” he said.

  “I’m not sure why you’d want to torture me. Maybe it’s a sport for people like you.” He didn’t respond. Shit, I’d managed to be bitchy to him again. I hoped if I answered, he’d overlook it. “People don’t like me in the office. You must have realized. I’m not part of the gang. I’m not one of the cool girls who socialize and gossip together.”

  “One of the cool girls?” He turned and smiled, raising an eyebrow at me. My stomach tilted. Was he flirting?

  “You know. The ones everyone wants to be or is desperate to fuck.” Saying the word fuck in front of him felt weird but it was on my tongue before I could stop it.

  “We’re not in high school,” he said, still grinning. When he smiled, his whole face joined in. It wasn’t contained to his mouth.

  I caught myself staring at him and quickly looked away. “Have you not been paying attention? The class sizes might be bigger and we might get paid, but we’re still in high school.”

  He chuckled, and the corners of his eyes crinkled up. I bet he was an excellent kisser. What? Stop it. I was sure he had his pick of women and left the bodies scattered across the city like litter.

  “What do your parents do?” he asked.

  “I think I should be able to veto some of these questions.”

  “That wasn’t the deal—”

  His phone vibrated and he drew his eyebrows together. “I’m going to have to take this. Try not to get into trouble while I’m gone.”

  I rolled my eyes and went back to my laptop. What on earth was I going to write about? I had nothing so far other than Sandy wanted to dry hump Harry. That was why I didn’t do celebrities. They were never quite as interesting as you imagined them to be. And they were always smaller than they seemed on screen. It was like the entertainment industry had a height restriction.

  I’d managed two words before Harry was back grinning like he’d won the lottery.

  “Why are you in such a good mood? Did your girlfriend’s chlamydia test come back negative?”

  “Give it a fucking rest, Haven. Misery is not most people’s default status.”

  “I’m not miserable.”

  “Okay, rude then,” he said. I cringed inwardly but tried not to let it show.

  “Sorry. Ask me a question.” My tongue was particularly acerbic when I was around him, as though I wanted to poke about a bit in that charming exterior and see how deep it went. Was I trying to goad him into losing his cool so I could see who he really was? I was thinking too much about Harry when I should be concentrating on Sandy.

  “You can’t keep doing that, being like that.”

  “Sorry. It was meant to be funny.” I felt silly and embarrassed. I had wanted to make him laugh.

  “By joking about my girlfriend’s STDs?”

  I shrugged. Luke would have laughed.

  “We don’t know each other well enough to be joking about chlamydia.” He chuckled and shook his head.

  I bit back a smile.

  “So tell me about your parents,” he said, going back to the question he’d asked before his phone call. The one I most dreaded from people.

  “They’re dead,” I replied.

  He burst out laughing, and I found myself smiling at him.

  “Jesus. You are dark. Seriously, though . . .”

  “Seriously. They died,” I said. Nobody had ever laughed when I’d told them about my parents—not that I told many people. I found that it was a reaction I preferred over what was normally pity.

  “Shit.” He went white. “I thought you were joking.”

  “I know. It’s fine.” I shrugged. I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.

  “When did they die?”

  “I was fifteen.” Most people didn’t ask follow-up questions when I told them. They said they were sorry and then tried to change the subject. Harry didn’t seem to be embarrassed at all.

  “How did it happen? At the same time?”

  “Yeah. They were in a car accident.” A familiar pressure built across my temples and a sharp stab of pain hit me between my brows. I reached for my forehead, hoping my fingers would usher it away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, as they all did.

  I kept rubbing my forehead.

  “Well, unless you were the drunk driver who ran into them, you have nothing to be sorry for.” I didn’t want people’s pity, it made me feel weak, and it was unacceptable for me to feel that way in front of strangers.

  “Haven, I’m sorry for your loss. Let me be sorry for your loss.”

  I hated the bit straight after I told people. Everyone was uncomfortable. They didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to disappear. I didn’t want their sympathy or sorrow. It felt private, as if I didn’t want to share how I felt about my parents, the accident and their death. Those feelings were mine and I guarded them. People’s reaction felt like a call for me to open up. That was why I hated telling people. I didn’t mind people knowing, but I didn’t like the time just after they knew.

  Murmurings from the crew in front of us brought our attention back to our surroundings and Sandy came rushing over.

  “Harry—I’m done for the day. Shall we go into town and get me drunk?” She giggled.

  “I’ve just had a phone call that I have to deal with, but another time? When are we back here?”

  “Monday,” I said. Drunk Sandy might be more interesting than sober Sandy. Couldn’t Harry’s phone call wait? Although, I wasn’t sure she’d planned to have me tag along.

  “Your mind is always on your work, Harry. You need to carve out some time for a little fun.” She turned, winked at him over her shoulder and spun off.

  “Well, there are no mixed signals there. I’m guessing she’s a sure thing,” I said.

  Harry shrugged, and we packed up our stuff and headed to the car.

  “Do you like her?” I asked.

  “You keep forgetting that I’m asking the questions.” I hated that he dodged the question. I wanted to know whether he found her attractive. What was his type?

  “So ask.” I liked that he wanted to know things about me. That he was interested enough to keep this up. It was like our own private game, and somehow he made me feel safe, as though I could answer truthfully and nothing bad would happen.

  “What’s your favorite food?”

  I laughed. He was keeping things on safer ground. “Eggs,” I replied.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, love ’em.” It was true. There was nothing nicer than an egg.

  “Served any particular way?”

  “I’m not fussy.”

  “Well, I know that’s a lie,” he said and grinned.

  I poked him in the ribs, our eyes met and I quickly pulled my hand away. Suddenly, touching him didn’t seem very appropriate. I’d forgotten myself. I’d thought I was with Luke or Ash.

  “With eggs, I’m not fussy.”

  “What about time of year?” he asked.

  “It seems very one sided and unfair that I can’t ask any questions of you.”

  “That’s the deal, and anyway, my favorite food is steak. Not very original, but true nonetheless.”

  He helped me load my bag into the back of the car and folded his too-long legs into the passenger seat of my tiny car. Maybe he wasn’t as spoiled as I’d thought he was.

  “I like the spring,” I told him. “The pussy willow, the daffodils. The lengthening days and the
promise of summer.”

  He nodded and smiled. “Me too.”

  Four

  Haven

  Luke scooted Ash and I up his sofa so he could sit down. I loved it when it was the three of us together. We were in a bubble and nothing could touch us, nothing could hurt us. Even though my brother lived with his girlfriend, somehow their flat was very much his. There weren’t many signs of Emma at all.

  “So how’s it going with that guy who called you a bitch?” Luke asked as he set down the popcorn in front of us.

  My cheeks burned at the thought of Harry.

  “Who called you a bitch?” Ash asked.

  “A new person. Harry. But it’s fine now. I think.”

  “A new guy?”

  I nodded. “A photographer. Some university friend of Robert’s. You know how Robert gives his friends jobs.”

  “Is he being an asshole, or were you being a bitch?” Ash asked.

  “No, actually. I think I was being a bitch.”

  Ash and Luke exchanged a glance.

  “Are you two flirting?” I asked, trying to throw the spotlight back on someone other than me.

  “No, we are not. When I make a play for your brother, he won’t be able to resist me and we’ll be wedding planning within weeks, so you’ll be well aware.”

  “Ash,” Luke said, a warning in his voice. I wasn’t sure if he really didn’t like her teasing him about their imaginary life as a couple, or whether he felt he should say something because he was living with Emma.

  “Anyway, back to you. Is this new guy hot?”

  I rolled my lips together. He was very definitely hot. And very definitely too hot for me to even consider him hot. “He’s fine, if you’re in to that kind of thing.”

  “Interesting,” Ash said.

  I glanced at Luke and he raised his eyebrows.

  “What? I asked, raising my palms.

  “Well, normally you make gagging sounds when I ask you if a guy is hot. Or you tell me that he smells like he hasn’t washed since before Robbie left Take That, the first time. Or that he walks with a limp, or—”

  “Okay, I get the picture, funny girl.”

  Luke was laughing. “It’s true though, Haven. ‘Fine’ is the equivalent of you saying that you want to lick him all over.”