Chapter 3
3
That evening, Esme sat at her dressing table, putting the final touches to her makeup. She had packed an overnight bag with her essentials and had chosen jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt in a deep plum colour that made her green eyes even more vivid. She dragged her fingers through her long dark brown waves and then applied her favourite burgundy lip gloss.
Her canine companion sat on her bed, her head tilting as she watched Esme’s every move with intrigue.
She swivelled on her chair to face the little dog. ‘Well, Betty, I’m ready. Although I think I’d rather stay home and snuggle up to you and watch movies or something.’ As if agreeing, the pug gave a single bark. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll spend the day with you tomorrow. I’m going to stay at Parker’s tonight though, with Gladys.’ This time the dog whined and lowered her head onto her paws. Esme walked over and crouched down before the dog. ‘I still love you the most though.’ There was a knock at her door.
‘Come in.’
Her dad appeared in the doorway. ‘You look lovely, pet. I’m glad you’re going out; you should be enjoying yourself. Anyway, I’m ready to go when you are.’
Esme scratched Betty behind her ears and stood. ‘I’m sure I could’ve got a taxi, Dad. I feel bad for taking you out when you’ve been working all day,’ she said, guilt niggling at her for accepting his offer of a lift when her usual taxi company was fully booked. Ugh, after everything I said to Mum about wanting my independence .
‘Don’t be daft. You know I don’t mind. I’ll see you downstairs.’ He turned around to walk away.
‘Dad.’ He stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder at her. ‘I do love you, you know.’
His eyes became a little glassy and he cleared his throat. ‘Aye, and I love you, pet. Now come on, we don’t want your friends to be left waiting.’
* * *
Esme stood at the doors of the Drumblair Arms in the chilly evening air waving as her dad drove away. Once he was out of sight, she inhaled a deep breath in a bid to calm her racing heart. She felt like the new kid at school all over again, which was silly considering she had known these people for months now. She pushed through the doors into a welcome blast of heat from the roaring log fire over by the bar. The place was busy with people enjoying the end of their working week and the atmosphere was buzzing with lively chatter. She spotted the group of her castle colleagues standing by the bar as Ed Sheeran was playing on hidden speakers. Parker spotted her and made a beeline in her direction.
‘Esme!’ He hugged her. ‘You came!’
Esme hugged him back. ‘I said I would, didn’t I? And I wouldn’t want to let my work bestie down.’
He fluttered his eyelashes. ‘N’awww. I’ve told Gladys that you’re coming to stay over, and she can’t wait to see you! I just hope Betty isn’t jealous when you get home and you smell of a different pooch!’ He twirled her around and sang along with Mr Sheeran about Bad Habits. ‘I love a bit of Ed almost as much as I do our Queen Taylor,’ he informed her, as if they were friends or relatives of his. He suddenly stopped and gripped her by the arms and his eyes widened. ‘Speaking of Taylor Alison Swift, you’ve remembered what’s happening next month, haven’t you?’
Esme giggled and shook her head. ‘Well, durr. She releases The Tortured Poets Department . As if I’d forget that.’
He linked his arm through hers and led her to where the others had gathered. ‘Oh my God, I can’t flipping wait. We’re having a listening party on release day. It’s only a month away so we’d better start planning.’
Esme grinned. ‘Sounds good to me.’
As they reached their group, Judd Cowan, one of the nursery staff, smiled widely but didn’t make eye contact for very long. ‘Hey, Esme. It’s good to see you. To what do we owe the honour? You don’t usually come out on work get-togethers.’ As well as working for Kerr MacBain, Judd had also begun working with the grounds team at the castle and, following the retirement and relocation of another gardener, had moved into one of the cottages in the castle grounds next door to Dougie, the head groundskeeper, and his wife Mirren.
Esme hadn’t spoken to Judd much as he always seemed quite shy and often had AirPods in when he worked. He was a tall man in his late twenties with light brown hair and kind chocolate-brown eyes. His skin had an earthy, tanned tone to it, possibly due to the years of working outside at the nursery since he had been employed there when it was run by his uncle, long before Kerr MacBain took over. She was used to seeing him with smudges of dirt on his face and lots more on his clothes, and his hair was often slicked back with sweat, though tonight he was clean shaven, smelled fresh and woodsy and there wasn’t a speck of dirt on his designer polo shirt or his jeans. He was quite handsome, something she hadn’t really noticed before.
He reached out and surprised her with a hug, the shock of which almost toppled her over. He grabbed for her. ‘Whoa there. And that’s before you’ve had anything to drink.’ He chuckled. ‘So, what brings you out tonight?’
‘I dragged her kicking and screaming, didn’t I, Esme?’ Parker said with a nudge to her shoulder and a wink.
She laughed. ‘Ignore him. I was neither kicking nor screaming. I’m just… I don’t know.’ She shrugged, unsure how to finish her explanation without sounding silly.
‘We don’t bite, you know,’ Judd replied with a wide smile. Then he leaned closer and in a theatrical whisper said, ‘Well, some of the others might but I can assure you I’m not a vampire. Although I know some women find the whole blood-sucking thing quite sexy, don’t they? I mean look at Twilight and Vampire Diaries . Although they’re all too good-looking to be real vampires in my opinion.’ He shrugged and then his cheeks flushed bright red as if embarrassed by what he’d said. ‘Not that I think vampires are real or anything like that. I’m not into that stuff. I’ve just heard… things…’ He cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, what are you drinking? I’ll get us a round in.’
Parker interjected, ‘I’ll have a G and T, darling, what else?’ he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
‘Make that two… please,’ Esme replied as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Judd gave a swift nod and walked the few steps to the bar. As he walked away, Esme heard Judd whispering to himself about being an arse and why couldn’t he at least try to be normal in front of other people. She smiled and shook her head.
‘He fancies you,’ Parker said in a low voice.
‘He does not, you just like to match make,’ Esme said as she felt her own face heating up. Parker had been nicknamed Granny Isla by the gift shop staff, apparently after the grandmother of a former employee of the castle who was well known for her attempts to marry people off.
‘I’m being serious! Did you see the way he looked at you when he saw you walking over and then couldn’t make eye contact, and how he blushed just now?’
‘That was because he was embarrassed that he’d mentioned blood sucking and good-looking vampires, you wee dafty,’ Esme replied, rolling her eyes.
Ignoring her reply, Parker continued, ‘He is rather yummy though, don’t you think? In that rugged and unwashed kind of way.’ Before Esme could reply that he wasn’t ‘unwashed’ tonight, he grabbed her by the arms again. ‘Ooh, ooh, speaking of yummy, have you heard who’s coming to the start of filming?’
Esme had been heavily involved in the organisation of the film crew’s imminent visit and had seen the cast list. In fact, it may as well have been tattooed on her brain seeing as she seemed to be running through the cast lists, dietary requirements, flat allocations and whatever else in her sleep. She wasn’t particularly excited about any one individual person, except perhaps the lead, Ruby Locke, who was pretty much living Esme’s dream. She was the typical ‘girl next door’ who had shot to stardom following her role in The Girl and the Rose .
Esme shrugged. ‘I know everyone who’s coming, why, who has you all in a tizzy?’
Parker scowled incredulously as if she was insane. ‘Zachary Marchand, who else?’
Esme crumpled her forehead and shook her head. Her heart skipped a beat, and she stuttered, ‘He-he isn’t even in the film.’
She’d had a massive crush on the actor since he was in her favourite teen romance movie set in the heart of London. She had watched it probably a hundred times and had been smitten. Utterly head over heels in love. In fact, his poster was still on her wall in her unchanged bedroom – another reason she clearly needed to move out. Back then when she had been a starry-eyed sixteen-year-old wannabe actress, Zachary Marchand had been around nineteen and had been ridiculously handsome with thick, wavy dark brown hair and deep brown eyes that she would happily have got lost in. He was very well spoken with a Home Counties accent that somehow made him even more dreamy. He was muscular without being an over-the-top body builder type and, of course, his clean-shaven face had been sculpted and smooth as if carved out by hand by a total perfectionist.
These days he had aged like a fine wine. Not that he was old in any way but he was now manly in the best possible way, rather than the fresh-faced teen she had always adored. The last film she had seen him in had been a thriller and he was most definitely all grown up. Stubble had graced his angular jawline, and his hair had been shorter but still thick enough to run your fingers through and grip in the heat of passion. She had watched the movie at the cinema with her mum and had been rather embarrassed at the unexpected love scenes where he had been completely naked, although tastefully covered where it was necessary. But he was still the most gorgeous celebrity she knew of by far. And now, Parker was telling her she was going to be in the same location as him.
‘Earth to Esme!’ Parker said, clicking his fingers to snap her out of her rather steamy daydream. ‘You drifted off for a minute there.’
With firm resolve, Esme stuck to her guns. She knew the cast list like the back of her hand. She had dealt with every aspect of each of their wants and needs for the upcoming shoot and he definitely wasn’t involved. ‘No. I think you’re wrong. He wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the paperwork.’
Parker scoffed. ‘Uh, no, I’m 150 per cent right. He was cast as the younger brother of the leading man.’
Esme again shook her head. ‘No, no, that’s Dean Winterburn. The guy from that really good cop show on TV. I remember because I was quite surprised he had transitioned into movies so easily. Although I suppose they do look similar so I can see why you’d make that mistake.’
Parker’s eyes widened. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t know? Dean Winterburn was fired for… well, no one really knows or cares why he was fired, he’s a two-bit celebrity, but Zachary was hired in his stead! It was all over TikTok. Don’t tell me you didn’t see it?’
Esme wasn’t as big a consumer of social media as Parker was, after all, it was his job, but she was sure she would have known about something this big. In her mind she rifled through the emails that had been going back and forth over the preparations, but she couldn’t think of any that had stated a thing about a change of actors. She would ask Olivia on Monday. But in the meantime, if what Parker was saying was true, she would be within feet of her teenage heartthrob in mere days. Good grief, she would have to be careful to remain professional and not regress into a swooning teenager if ever he spoke to her – which he probably wouldn’t anyway so it was no doubt a moot point.
At only three years her senior, she had dreamed of one day meeting Zachary on set – when she was obviously cast to play opposite him – and in this make-believe scenario they would fall head over heels in love during filming and then, of course, they’d run off into the sunset together before moving into her newly purchased castle and begin filling it with beautiful children. But now he was going to be at Drumblair Castle starring as the younger brother of the male lead in An Unlikely Inheritance . If only her dreams of becoming an actress hadn’t been thwarted by overly cautious parents, she might have had the chance to audition for the film.
Get a grip, Esme Cassidy, even if you’d taken that place at the Conservatoire there’s no saying you’d have even got an audition for the film.