Chapter 22
DREW
‘Hey,’ I say, sticking my head into Sophie’s cube.
‘Hey,’ she says back, smiling up at me from her desk. My heart rate kicks up a notch.
If ‘playing with fire’ were an Olympic event, I would medal and Sophie would be on the podium with me. We still haven’t talked about the kiss, both pretending we’re so busy with the campaign that it ‘hasn’t come up’.
‘Just checking that you’ve ordered a car to Heathrow – expensed, of course,’ I say – super-profesh team lead, at your service.
‘Yep. And I’ve checked in.’
‘Great. Me too.’
‘Great.’
We lock eyes, the air crackling. Or maybe that’s just me. And whatever this is, I’m probably going to screw it up.
It was simpler when Sophie low-key hated me. I didn’t have to be anything other than the guy who doesn’t do relationships. And now?
Now I’m drawn to a woman who runs circles around me in every way.
And we’re heading off on a work trip together. In a winter frigging wonderland. What could go wrong there?
‘I’m guessing Harlow’s staying with Connie?’ I ask like it’s not a no-brainer – anything to keep talking.
‘Yeah,’ she replies. ‘She’s actually pretty excited about it. She calls it her Coco-Lolo Time.’
‘Oh, that’s cute.’
‘It is – and I love that they’re close but…’ She shrugs.
‘You’ll miss her.’
She nods, giving me a melancholic smile. ‘I know it’s only a few nights, but it’ll be the longest we’ve ever been apart.’
I swallow hard, not sure what to say to that.
‘Anyway,’ she says, shaking it off, ‘we’ll be flat tack the whole time and it’ll fly by like that.’ She snaps her fingers.
‘Yeah, good point. Look, I’m gonna head out, but I can wait if you’re leaving soon – walk with you to the Tube.’
She hesitates for a sec, conflicted thoughts playing behind her eyes. So, it’s not just me who’s trying to sprint across quicksand.
‘I’ve got a couple things I need to finish up,’ she says eventually. ‘But thanks.’
‘Okay. See you tomorrow.’
‘Yep.’
We exchange smiles, then I leave, and it takes several minutes before my heart rate returns to normal.
Sophie
Anyone who says Switzerland is overrated is either lying or they’ve never actually been here. This is a massive step up from my last work trip, which was to Leeds. It’s a lovely city, but there’s no comparison.
‘Drew, this scenery…’ I say, unable to tear my eyes from the train window.
‘I know, right? Kind of makes me wish I had taken Max up on his offer.’
I look over my shoulder. ‘Seriously?’
‘What?’
‘Then maybe you’d be in hospital with your leg suspended in the air.’
‘Nah,’ he says with lopsided smirk. ‘I’m a way better skier than Max.’
‘Hah!’ I laugh, then turn to look out the window again – partly the lure of the view, partly self-preservation. Drew’s smirk used to irritate me, but now it’s potent for other reasons.
‘Do you think there’s any way we can get some scenery into the ads?’ I ask, redirecting my thoughts to work.
‘Maybe… Could do a shot over Stevie’s shoulder – see his point of view out the window or something.’
‘Good idea,’ I say, going back to gorging on the natural beauty.
When we cross over a rushing ice-blue river, I check the time.
We’ll be arriving in a town called Lauterbrunnen soon.
Max was transferred there from the hospital in Interlaken and is recuperating in a medical-recovery suite at an exclusive resort – the sort of place the uber-rich return from looking ‘refreshed’.
Only Max is having physiotherapy, not a facelift.
His suite will double as a set, so we have a lot to do before we start shooting. And he felt so bad about the massive headache he caused that he’s putting us up at the resort.
A short while later, we pull into the station and Drew hops up before the train stops, taking our luggage off the rack and edging towards the door, rolling both suitcases.
I’d offer to take mine, but apparently his mum would kill him if she found out – that’s not how she raised him.
I learned this about him on the first leg of our all-day journey.
And it threw me a little. Drew being this nice was not on my BINGO card.
But neither was making out with him in my kitchen. Or pretending we didn’t, which we’ve been doing ever since.
Suits me, I remind myself.
Harlow and Connie may be rooting for us to get together, but this is real life.
I can’t casually date someone who’ll pull a Houdini as soon as the sun comes up – no matter how many times I’ve imagined sleeping with Drew or how good that frigging kiss was.
I’d be another notch on his bedpost, nothing more.
And I won’t let anything jeopardise Harlow’s friendship with Maisie.
Filing off the train, I pop the collar of my coat, ducking my chin against the crisp air. Max offered to send a car to pick us up, but it’s not far to the resort, so we said we’d walk.
Fifteen minutes later, I have regrets. A ten-minute stroll in chilly weather – no worries. An uphill wintry hike in slippery-soled boots – what the hell were we thinking? At least I’m not lugging two suitcases behind me like poor Drew.
‘This is it,’ he says, stopping in front of a gorgeous dark-wood building with Kelly-green shutters. It couldn’t be any more Swiss if it started yodelling.
‘Oh, thank god,’ I gasp, totally out of breath. Until today, I thought I was quite fit.
Drew chucks an amused look over his shoulder, then leads us up the path.
Inside the lobby, the décor takes chalet chic to a whole new level – exposed beams, plush sofas covered with throws and pillows, and an enormous stone fireplace with a crackling fire.
Floor-to-ceiling windows reveal the most epic view I’ve ever seen: sheer cliff faces rising either side of the lush-green valley floor; waterfalls plummeting hundreds of metres, iridescent in the afternoon sunshine; and the mountaintops in the distance blanketed with snow, stark against the cerulean blue of the sky.
The journey here, including my screaming thighs, recedes into the shadows. We couldn’t have planned a more perfect setting.
After checking in, we follow the porter up to our rooms.
‘Ms Reid, you are here,’ he says, unlocking the door and handing me the keycard, ‘and Mr Parker, you are next door.’
Drew’s eyes dart towards mine. Side-by-side rooms in a luxurious resort in one of the most picturesque towns in the world. Easy access or a recipe for disaster?
Ignoring that question, we make plans to meet downstairs in an hour so we can visit Max, then go into our rooms.
The door clicks softly behind me and the first thing I notice is that my luggage is already here – impressive. The next thing is the view, which is the same as downstairs but with no pesky obstructions like furniture – just one giant window and the most glorious scenery I have ever encountered.
I drop onto the edge of the bed, suddenly weary after travelling for most of the day. Maybe Drew handles the work stuff and I stay here, staring out the window for the next four days.
My phone chimes, bringing me back to the room. It’s Harlow.
Are you there yet mum?
I tap the call button.
‘Hi, Mum.’
‘Hi, darling girl, how’s your day been so far?’
‘Good. Coco took me and Maisie to the zoo – the one at Golders Hill. They’ve got lemurs. They’re so cute, Mum.’
‘Oh, wow. That sounds amazing.’
‘It was,’ she replies, and I can just picture her matter-of-fact nod. ‘We’re going to lunch now. Coco’s taking us to Pizza Express!’ she says, making me chuckle. Connie detests chain restaurants, but when you’re the sole, much-loved granddaughter, she’ll make an exception.
‘So, what’s Switzerland like?’ she asks. ‘Is it nice?’
‘It’s very nice, Lo, and I promise to bring you one day. You’ll love it.’
‘M-kay. Does Drew like it?’
On the surface, an innocent question, but I know she’s disappointed there haven’t been any more playdates with me, Drew, and the girls.
Not since the kiss.
‘I think so, yes,’ I tell Harlow. ‘It’s the sort of place everyone likes.’
‘Mmm, cool. Hang on.’ I hear Connie in the background, her voice muffled. ‘I’ve got to go, Mum. We’re nearly there.’
‘Okay. I love you.’
‘Love you too.’
We end the call and my stomach growls loudly. ‘Yeah, yeah,’ I tell it. We had lunch on the plane – a very nice meal with real cutlery and wine and everything – but that was hours ago. I look around the room for the minibar, spying something even better – a gift basket.
Giving a cursory glance at the card – a generic welcome message from the resort – I dig in, taking out the most perfect-looking pear I’ve ever seen. I bite into it – delish.
Now it’s time to suss out the bathroom. Oh my god – it’s bigger than my kitchen-diner at home. Enormous bathtub, a vanity brimming with luxury toiletries, and a rainfall shower big enough for two. Or three, if you’re that way inclined.
Imagine Drew in that shower. Drew, who’s right next door.
‘Stop it, Sophie,’ I chastise.
I take another big bite of the pear and munch, my cheeks full, then return to the bedroom and fall onto the bed.
It sucks not having anyone to talk to about this.
Connie’s no good – too close to Daniel for me to feel comfortable talking about Drew.
There’s Jane, but she’d only tell me to shag him and get it over with.
Which I could, I suppose.
And if we do it here – far from London and home and real life – then it’s just a work-trip fling. One and done. Get it out of our systems, then go back to being colleagues.
Yeah right – even I don’t believe me. Up until an hour ago I was resolute and now I’m looking for a loophole.
It’s the unexpected nice-guy thing. Drew is great with Maisie – and Harlow, never talking down to the girls like a lot of adults do. And he gave me credit for my work on the campaign.
I take the last bite of the pear and throw the core in the bin, my mind drifting back to the day we took the girls to mini golf.
I’d asked myself if Drew was boyfriend material.
I can’t recall if I landed on yes or no.
But more to the point, does a guy like Drew want a thirty-something woman with a ten-year-old and a dead husband?
My phone chimes again and I check it.
Meeting up with Max earlier. See you downstairs in five?
‘Shit.’ I was hoping to take a shower first – a necessity after travelling all day. I fire off a reply.
Nw
Then I realise he might not get that, so I send a follow-up.
No worries.
I drop my phone onto the bed and rush to the bathroom to freshen up. Time to crack open those toiletries.
‘There’s a sight for sore eyes.’
At first I think Max is talking about Drew, but he’s looking right at me. ‘Come on in,’ he says with a wave of his hand. I catch a slight wince, then walk over to his swanky hospital bed and Drew goes around to the other side.
If it weren’t for Max’s plaster-ensconced leg suspended from a giant silver frame, it would be hard to tell he’s infirmed. He looks great, which is a relief. There’s only so much magic a makeup artist can pull off.
‘How’s it going, man?’ asks Drew.
‘Couldn’t be better,’ Max retorts, a wry look on his face. ‘You two get settled in? The rooms are okay?’
Drew and I exchange a look. ‘Yep,’ Drew replies. ‘This place is unreal.’
‘The room’s great,’ I add. ‘Thanks again.’
Max waves me off. ‘Small price to pay – wouldn’t want to get sued,’ he says with a dry laugh. But what was I expecting? A heartfelt apology or any form of accountability?
Drew laughs along, but I can tell he’s uncomfortable.
‘So,’ he says, signposting a change of subject, ‘you’ve been briefed about the shoot? It’s two days – the wife and kids tomorrow afternoon, then the whole family the day after.’
Max’s mouth quirks and he drops the cheery front.
‘Yeah, yeah, all good. I’ve got the scripts locked in,’ he says, tapping the side of his head.
‘Doc says she’ll be on hand to keep an eye on things…
And hopefully there won’t be too many takes, but with kid actors you never know, right? ’ he adds with a shrug.
Anyone would think he’s not getting paid a ridiculous amount of money for this, that it’s a favour he reluctantly agreed to.
‘You heading home to London after this?’ he asks me.
‘Uh, yes?’ I reply.
‘You don’t know?’ he presses rudely.
‘I do, but I’m not sure why you’re asking.’
‘Well, I was wondering if you’d like to stick around for a bit – keep me company.’
‘Oh.’ What?
‘We could fly Hayley in,’ he adds.
My eyes fly to Drew’s – is he as shocked by Max’s offer as I am?
‘It’s Harlow, man,’ Drew tells him tersely. ‘Sophie’s daughter – her name’s Harlow.’
‘Right, yep. Sorry,’ Max says to me – he isn’t. ‘So, what do you think? I could upgrade you to a suite, book you and Harlow into the spa for some treatments… and in between, you could hang out here with me – just the two of us.’
‘Uh, I… um…’ I stammer.
I don’t want to be rude – we need Max – but what could he possibly expect from offering to play sugar daddy? And even if I were interested in him – which I’m not, especially after that obnoxious offer – he’s in traction.
‘Sophie and I are needed back in London right after this,’ says Drew, leaping in. ‘Post-production stuff – you get it.’
His eyes bore into Max’s and they stare at each other, a prolonged beat of alpha-male hostility.
‘Yeah, for sure. It was just an idea,’ says Max, breaking eye contact and laughing it off.
Drew looks at me with a forced smile. ‘So, we should head out – go over the schedule for tomorrow.’
It takes me a moment to react. ‘Uh, yep. Lots to do. See ya tomorrow, Max,’ I say, already halfway out the door.
Drew is right behind me, and we walk to the lift in silence. Once inside, as the doors close, he looks over and I meet his eye.
‘I’m really sorry about that.’
‘Don’t worry – Harlow’s an unusual name,’ I quip, trying to make light of it.
‘No, I—’
‘I know what you meant,’ I reply softly, turning to look straight ahead.
‘He wasn’t always such an asshole.’
I don’t have an answer for that, so I keep quiet. The lift arrives at the lobby and the silver doors slide open.
‘Would you like to have dinner?’ Drew asks. ‘With me,’ he adds, uncertainty in his voice.
There’s a couple waiting for the lift, so I step out and move aside, taking the precious seconds to get my thoughts in order.
Max Stirling is an entitled creep.
Was Drew just looking out for a colleague back there, or was there more to it?
He asked you to dinner, you dag – there’s more to it.
He’s a good guy.
And that kiss!
Every ounce of resolve flies out the window.
You’re going.
I spin around and flash Drew a broad smile.
‘I’d love to.’
He returns the smile. ‘Cool – I’ll make a reservation.’
‘Cool,’ I echo, and we grin at each other like idiots.