Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
Ash
The first thing I noticed was the dry mouth and the pounding headache. I moaned and tried to sit up. The second thing I noticed was Max sitting in the chair in my tent looking at me.
“Morning,” he said.
“Mor—” I stopped. The talking just made my head pound even harder, as if it was going to explode.
“Water on your side table, two aspirin, multivitamin and your phone is charging.”
She nodded and reached for the water. She ripped the lid off and downed half the bottle with gusto. She chucked down the pills next and then looked at her phone.
“Crap! It’s already nine. I have so much work to do.”
“Best hangover cure is something to eat. There’s breakfast waiting for us in the dining area,” he said. “I’ll leave you to get dressed and meet you there?” He strode out of the tent and I watched him curiously. Why had he been in my tent this morning anyway and why was I fully clothed and in bed and why was . . . Oh. My. God!
It all rushed back to me when I saw the empty bottle of African Dreams and the two glasses. I buried my face in my hands as one memory after the other rushed in like scenes from a horror movie. I had thrown myself at him last night. I had been drunk, and shamelessly thrown myself at him, despite my dating detox. I was mortified!
Shit, I had actually grabbed him by the hair and asked him to kiss me and he’d said no! Thank God he’d said no, because I had not been in my right mind. But still the rejection kind of felt a little bruising to my ego. My face burned and I touched my cheeks to try to cool them down. Well, that was it. I was never going to be able to look at him again. Not to mention be in the same room as him. I paced the tent a few times, feeling sicker and sicker by the second. And it wasn’t a physical sickness—this was the kind of sickness you feel when you have made a total and utter fool of yourself.
You have muscles.
Sexy ankles.
How did you get so sexy, Max?
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I continued, pacing frantically, but was forced to stop when my phone beeped. I rushed over to it and Sebastian’s name lit up the screen.
Sebastian: Loving everything so far. Feeling it. Seeing it. Can almost touch it. Vibing it. Agency says it now wants the pack shot on location, not studio. They want to feel Africa in the shot. You know how I feel about pack shots that’s your department, I don’t want to know about that shit.
Ash: They want the perfect glossy slow-motion alcohol pouring into icy fucking tumbler shot on location? Not in studio where we have control over everything and it will be much, much, much easier?
Sebastian: They love complicating their lives and ours.
Ash: That they do. Okay, will look for a location.
I groaned. I really, really needed to get to work despite the pounding head and dry mouth. But I was not going to go for breakfast and sitting across the table from Max while eating eggs and bacon! My phone beeped again.
Sebastian.
Sebastian: Question. Don’t freak the fuck out.
I didn’t like the sound of that.
Sebastian: I just looked at this place’s website again and they have a photo of sunset drinks by a watering hole. You know the cheesy vibe, blah, blah, at the end of the game drive they watch the animals by the watering hole, sipping on drinks, soaking in the African vibes cue Toto song or Lion King theme.
Ash: Yeeees.
Sebastian: I know it’s not on the storyboard, but not me thinking we should throw in an African safari shot.
Ash: NOT you thinking, or you ARE thinking?
Sebastian had a Gen Z daughter and he’d made it part of his personality that he’d claimed their slang and was using it deliberately in his own unique way for shits and giggles.
Sebastian: I WANT an African safari watering hole shot vibe ASAP .
Ash: Not you changing plans last minute, not like the client also not wanting a studio pack shot.
Sebastian: Not you “notting” me.
I rubbed my aching temples. It did make sense, though. That shot would work really well for the ad. But it was going to take a whole lot of extra time, and I would need to arrange a game drive and find this watering hole.
Ash: Let me get through our existing storyboard and if there’s time I’ll go on a game drive. Couldn’t work yesterday when we arrived due to massive storm.
Sebastian: Slay queen.
Ash: Please don’t ever say that to me again.
Ash: And please, please never say it to a client.
Sebastian: Too late for that. I’ve been trying it out all week.
Ash: Not me cringing.
Sebastian: Got to go. Your Russ is not getting what I’m saying about this edit.
Ash: Perhaps that’s because you talk like a teenager?
Sebastian: I don’t know what on earth you mean.
I then dragged myself through the day like I was walking through thick mud. Every now and then I saw Max and the manager, either sitting and talking, or walking around the place. I’d discovered the most amazing pool too, also under a tented roof to stop the direct sunlight, but open on all sides so you could gaze at your surroundings while submerged in the water. But everywhere I went, Bongani the game ranger was hot on my heels, standing there with his gun. He’d warned me that this was an unfenced game reserve, so animals roamed freely and I was not to go anywhere by myself, especially at night. While I was working, a majestic herd of elephant had wandered past, followed by a rather large and hungry-looking hippo. But by late afternoon, I was feeling sick and faint from lack of food, the hangover and the relentless heat. I had not joined Max for breakfast, and I had also declined to join him for lunch. Apparently, it had not gone unnoticed.
“Hey.” Max walked up to me as I was weighing up a potential shot of the swimming pool, also not on the storyboard, but a shot that I knew would totally work for the ad.
“Hey,” I replied, but avoided looking in his direction.
“You haven’t eaten today?”
“Not hungry,” I said quickly, kneeling down lower.
“I put a plate of food together for you and left it in the dining area . . . I’ve finished eating now, so you can go if you want.” The “I’m finished eating” statement lingered in the air between us with a whole chunk of subtext dangling off it. The subtext being he’d clearly noticed I did not want to be near him today, let alone look at him, because last night I had gotten way too drunk and had sexually tossed myself at him like croutons into a salad. And the worst part was that after tossing myself like a little sexual crouton, he’d batted me away as if playing pickle ball. (Oh, God, I really was soooo hungry!)
“Thanks,” I said curtly, and then waited for him to leave. I watched him out the corner of my eye and as soon as he was far enough away, I ran and threw myself into the dining area to inhale the plate of food. Sitting in a post-food glow, I realized I’d forgotten to arrange a game drive. I looked at my watch. The day was almost over, and I’d gone through everything I’d had to, so I went looking for the ranger.
“Hey, sorry, it totally slipped my mind earlier, but I was wondering if there was any possibility you could take me on a game drive this evening. I’d like to look at a potential shot of a watering hole?”
“No need to arrange anything. We’re leaving on a game drive in an hour,” Bongani said.
“You are?”
“Your partner wanted to go on one,” he replied.
“He’s not my partner . . . absolutely NOT , at all.” I laughed awkwardly and quickly cut myself off when something dawned on me. “Wait, he’s going on this drive—the one in an hour?”
Bongani looked at me curiously and nodded.
“So, then, no time to organize another one, I suppose? Without Max, who is definitely not my partner?”
He gave me another strange look and shook his head. “Sorry, not with you leaving tomorrow.”
“Of course. Thank you. I’ll see you in an hour, then.”
I walked off towards my room, weighing it up. Seeing Max again, spending time with him in a game vehicle, or not getting the best possible shots for the client. In the end, my professionalism won.