Chapter 25 Cynthie
It’s been a couple of weeks since he stayed over at my place, and tonight is the night Jack and I are making our official debut as a couple at a black-tie charity gala in Beverly Hills.
I’m trying not to feel nervous about it, but as we sit in my dressing room at home, Patty and Liam demand all the gossip they’ve missed while being out of town on a shoot. Let’s just say reliving all the details has me jittery.
“And then,” I say as Liam dusts powder over my nose, “he opens the door, and he’s just standing there in his pajamas, and his hair is all messy, you know…”
“Mmmm,” Liam makes an appreciative sound of agreement.
“And he was wearing…” I trail off, helpless.
“What?” Patty’s eyes widen in the mirror as she stands looking over my shoulder.
“He was wearing reading glasses,” I finish with a whisper.
“Nooooooooo!” they both screech in unison.
“Yup.” I sigh. “Those round tortoiseshell ones. Like a hot librarian.”
“Oh my god,” Liam murmurs. “Your kryptonite.”
I nod glumly, because he’s right. Hot librarians are my thing.
(Formative crushes on Giles in Buffy and Rachel Weisz in The Mummy made this inevitable.) Jack’s character on Blood/Lust is a buff, clever, waistcoat-wearing librarian/demon hunter, and my friends have teased me mercilessly for years over the fact that my nemesis is on TV playing my teenage fantasy.
Now I just happen to be trapped in a fake relationship with him while he insists on being sweet and charming all the time.
It’s a nightmare.
Over the last couple of weeks, Jack and I have hung out a handful of times. One of those times we didn’t have anything planned, but he dropped me a text.
JACK:
Hey, friend. Want to go see a movie?
So we went to a midday screening of a big action film.
We were the only people in the theater. No one saw us or took pictures of us, and we bickered over superior cinema snacks and made fun of the clunky dialogue, spending the afternoon talking to each other like action heroes.
There were lots of references to choppers.
It was light and fun, and we weren’t performing for an audience, so I’m not exactly sure why it happened, or what it meant.
Maybe Jack and I really are becoming friends. And maybe hell is freezing over.
“Tell them about the book!” Hannah sings now from her seat on the couch, her feet tucked up under her.
“He was reading Persuasion .” If it weren’t for Liam’s and Patty’s ministrations, I would put my head in my hands.
“That’s hot,” Patty says wisely. “Men reading Austen is always hot, but Persuasion ? That’s the hottest one.”
I don’t know why this is right, but it absolutely is.
“But nothing’s happened?” Liam asks, his tone skeptical.
“Nope.” I pop the p sound. “He did offer me a truce. He said we should be… friends.”
“Huh.” Patty frowns.
“Well, that’s nice, right?” Liam asks.
“I guess,” I reply. “I never really thought there was any possibility of Jack Turner-Jones being my friend, but… maybe?” I can’t keep the doubt from my voice. “He does seem different.”
“Yes!” Patty agrees, fussing with her curling tongs. “I was saying to Arjun that he seems so much happier.”
Liam nods wisely. “His aura has totally changed. I could see it right away. He’s let go of a lot of darkness.”
I nibble on my lip. “Whatever it is, at least we might be on the same team this time. I guess it takes some of the pressure off filming.”
I watch Liam and Patty exchange a look in the mirror.
“How are you feeling about starting work on the film?” Patty asks carefully.
My eyes drop to my lap where my fingers twist a ring on my index finger. “You know… a bit nervous. I’m sure it will be fine.”
There’s an unspoken tension in the room and I know exactly why.
The last film I made was with Shawn, and it left me raw and anxious—the part was demanding and so was he, even without factoring in our fraught relationship.
I wasn’t in a good place by the end. Honestly, the idea of being on a film set again makes my stomach clench.
My friends are the ones who had to pick up the pieces after everything that happened, so it’s no surprise they’re worried too.
“It will be great,” Patty says staunchly. “Just think, all the gang together back at Darlcot. It’s been ages since me and Arjun got to work together, and we’re bringing Priya to see where Mummy and Daddy fell in love.” She bats her lashes.
“You mean where Mummy and Daddy got drunk and made out in every shadowy corner?” I laugh, pleased to be distracted.
“Potato, po-tah-to.” Patty grins.
“What about the documentary?” Hannah asks. “Did you say you’re meeting the crew tonight?”
“Mmmm,” I agree. “The director, Brooke, wants to get some B-roll of me and Jack being a couple, I suppose.”
“Speaking of which,” Hannah says gleefully, “tell them about the shirtless workout.”
“Excuse me, what? ” Patty looks like she’s about to burst.
“Please.” Liam’s eyes are wide. “Spare no detail.”
I groan.
“It was all Petra’s fault,” I say after I fill them in. “I could have killed her.”
“Shirtless Jack.” Patty has a distant look in her eyes. “Is it as good in real life as it is on TV?”
“Better,” I admit, remembering how distracted I’d been trying hard not to stare at the sweaty, rippling muscles, the six-pack, the broad shoulders.
There’s a moment of reverential silence.
“And we’re sure…” Liam hesitates, clearly still reeling from the shirtless reveal. “Just friends?”
“Do you mean with the man I used to hate who I’m now pretending to be in a relationship with to fix my image thanks to a massive scandal, oh, and with whom I’m about to spend the next three months making a film in front of a documentary crew?” I say.
“Right,” Liam nods. “Good point.”
“I think I know better than anyone that getting involved with a coworker is a mistake.”
“I notice there wasn’t anything in there about how you don’t want something more with him,” Hannah says innocently.
“I don’t want anything more with him,” I reply, serene.
All three of my friends start laughing and, frankly, it’s insulting. It was barely a lie and I’m a very good actor.
“Anyway, it’s not like he’s made any kind of move,” I say, and I know I sound petulant, but it’s true.
Jack hasn’t so much as touched my hand without it being agreed in advance.
He’s been the perfect gentleman. “He’s been extremely careful about it.
I don’t think he wants me to get the wrong impression. ”
Now the three of them are exchanging loads of significant eye contact.
“Maybe he thinks you’re not interested,” Liam says, finally.
“Which I’m not,” I remind them. And I’m not sure I’m fooling anyone at this point, not even myself. I did not have “confusing feelings for Jack Turner-Jones’?” on my bingo card for this year, but here we are. Again.
“Well,” Patty says, giving my hair one final brush and shaking all the bouncy curls out down my back. “The good news is the entire world is buying the fake romance thing, and the story’s doing exactly what it was meant to.”
She attacks me with hairspray, and Liam carefully blots my lips, while Hannah retrieves the garment bag holding my gown.
Stripping out of my robe, I step into the custom Dior gown, which is a dramatic rustle of emerald satin with a boned bodice. Thin straps sit wide on my shoulders, creating a low, dipping neckline. The cut is simple, but the dress is a knockout.
“Oof, that is gorgeous,” Liam says, his fingers stroking the fabric.
“Lola sent over a load of jewelry options,” Hannah says, bustling over to the table, which is covered in black velvet boxes, courtesy of my stylist. “She said any of these will work.”
I start flipping the boxes open and we all ooh and ahh over the jewelry inside. I choose a pair of diamond earrings, and hesitate over a delicate gold charm necklace. An idea forms in my mind, and I feel my lips curve up.
“Uh-oh,” Hannah says. “That look means trouble.”
“No, no.” I grin. “I was just thinking… why don’t we give people something to talk about?”
JACK AND I HAVE ARRANGED to rendezvous at the hotel where the gala is being held.
In fact, he’s already there waiting for me when my car pulls into the wide, semicircular driveway.
The place is full of people in their finest evening wear, and no one takes much notice when I step out, taking Jack’s offered hand.
I don’t know how or why they’d be looking anywhere else when Jack is wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo.
I linger over his appearance, taking it all in. When I finally look up, I realize he’s doing his own slow inventory, and when his eyes drag up to meet mine, I lift my brows.
“Well?” I ask.
“You’ll do,” he says, and his voice is a gravely shiver that belies the lightness of the words.
It’s not in the least friendly , and my interest sharpens. “You too.”
“Shall we?” he asks, holding out an arm to me.
“Sure.” I take his arm, and we join the throng, moving down the drive toward the entrance.
The hotel is lit up like a gorgeous birthday cake under the night sky.
The atmosphere is happy, celebratory, the crowd a mixture of celebrities, wealthy donors, and families who have benefited from the work the charity does helping young cancer patients.
I’m far from the center of attention, and for once I don’t feel like a bug under a microscope.
It’s a wonderful cause, and the annual gala is a glitzy event in a big ballroom lit with fairy lights. There’s live music and dancing and genuinely good canapés, and most importantly of all it raises a huge amount of money. I’ve always enjoyed it.
“Cynthie!” At the door, we’re greeted by Sasha, one of the organizers, and her assistant.
Sasha kisses me on both cheeks. I’ve been involved with the charity and this particular event for years, so we’ve gotten to know each other quite well, but initially I found her pretty intimidating.
She treats Jack to a cool look that just might be tinged with approval.
“Who do we have here?”