Chapter 11
Chloe ducked out of the party to use the bathroom.
Overall, she was enjoying herself more than she’d thought she would, especially with the protective force field of Rob around her.
But something about the acoustics, the amplification of a hundred conversations, felt exhausting, like trying to stay upright in a river.
She wished she had a book. She could really use a reading break. Just a few chapters to tide her over.
When she came out of the bathroom, she found Sean, waiting for her in the narrow, dimly lit corridor.
“Hey,” he said, shooting her a tentative smile. “Loud in there, isn’t it? My ears are ringing.”
“Yes. Hi,” she said, surprised to find him here. Were they going to have a heart-to-heart here, outside the loo?
“So, how’s life with you?” he asked, grinning, then thrusting his hands into his pockets, shifting his stance, leaning back against the wall.
“Good, good,” she said as a reflex. “How about you?”
“Yeah, you know. Crazy busy. I only got in two days ago. Still jet-lagged,” he said, shooting her that familiar goofy smile.
“Did you come just for this?” she asked.
“No, it was lucky timing. I had a meeting with these producers in London.” He raked a hand through his jet-black hair. She leaned back against the opposite wall, pressing her hands behind her.
“Who were you meeting? You know I work for a film company now?”
“Oh right. Cool.” He bit his lip. “I can’t really say. Talent meetings, you know.”
A silence hung between them. She imagined how different their roles in a meeting would be. Her, taking notes and making coffee, him, the big-name director, calling all the shots.
“Sorry, that was a wanky thing to say. You’re not going to tell anyone,” he said, blowing out his cheeks. “It was with Daniel Craig about this prepper film they want me for.”
She took a beat. Wow.
“It’s so impressive, what you’ve done,” she said. “I’m so proud of you.”
“You watched them then, my films?” he asked, eyes shifting to the floor.
“Of course I did! I even waited for the credits in the theater so I could see your name come up again, twice—writer and director. I did a little cheer both times, spilled popcorn all over myself,” she said.
His mouth lifted at the edges, but in his eyes she saw a flicker of annoyance.
He started picking at a piece of loose paintwork on the wall.
“Listen, I wanted to apologize for not replying to that email you sent,” he said, clearing his throat.
So he had got it. “It was rude of me not to write back. I wanted to, I was thinking about you, but then it felt like I should probably call, and life got crazy, you know how it is. I was doing eighteen-hour days…” He trailed off.
“Then it felt like I’d left it too long.
” He scuffed his foot against the floor.
“I’m always chasing my tail on stuff I need to reply to. ”
“Maybe you need a shit-hot PA to help you keep on top of things,” she said with a tight smile, trying not to let show how much it stung that he simply “hadn’t had time” to respond.
“I have two,” he said, no flicker of irony.
Chloe flexed her palms behind her back. Why did this feel like talking to a stranger?
Maybe because he was a stranger now. But was she really so insignificant to him that an email congratulating him, extending the olive branch of friendship, had just been another irksome task clogging up his to-do list?
“You were my best friend, Sean,” she said softly. “We did everything together. It feels crazy to me that we lost touch over…” She trailed off.
“I know, me too,” he said, eyes wide and eager now.
“And I’m sorry, about all that stuff with Susie.
” A flush crept up his neck, and he tugged at the cuff of his sleeve.
“If it makes you feel better, she didn’t just make me choose between her and you.
When I got the job in LA, she told me we couldn’t stay together if I went. ”
This did not make Chloe feel any better. He had put Susie over their friendship, but a job over Susie. She chewed on her lip, feeling a new coldness between them.
“You still acting?” he asked. Though he must have known that she wasn’t.
“Every day, acting like I’ve got a clue what I’m doing with my life,” she said, letting out a nervous laugh, and it echoed around the too-quiet corridor, taunting her.
Their eyes met now, and he looked…she didn’t know.
Awkward? Embarrassed? She couldn’t read him like she used to.
How could a conversation be about so much and so little all at once?
A group of women were heading down the corridor toward them now, and Sean bounced on his toes. “Anyway, we’ll catch up properly later, yeah?”
A cold weight settled against her ribs. She folded her arms across her chest, then dropped her gaze to the floor.
“Sure, that would be good,” she said, swallowing against the dryness in her throat.
The words felt small. Perfunctory. She knew this Sean, she knew he bounced on his toes when he wanted to be somewhere else.
Clearly he’d done what he needed to do: apologized, made a show of goodwill.
Box ticked. And now, she would quietly return to the footnotes of his university memories, a minor character in the early chapters.
Sean gave her a little salute before heading back down the corridor toward the party, his walk relaxing into more of a swagger the farther away he got.
Chloe didn’t follow him. She needed a moment.
The sounds of the party were muffled and distant, as if someone had closed a door between her and the room.
What had she expected? To turn back the clock?
To magically be his best friend and writing partner again, for him to be the key that was going to help unlock whatever was blocking her?
She wiped two fingers beneath her eyes. She didn’t want to cry.
She was too emotional about this stuff. She needed to grow up.
She tugged at her dress, smoothed her hair, took a deep breath, then headed back toward the party.
At least she knew where she stood. Sean didn’t need her anymore; he didn’t want to reconcile.
She just needed to survive the weekend, be civil, give him McKenzie’s script, and that would be it. Chapter closed.
Back in the hall, she scoured the crowd for Rob.
But the drinks reception had taken a rowdy turn.
Someone had pumped the music up, and everyone had moved to the edges of the hall to make room for people to dance.
Rocco Falconi, always the life and soul of any party, had started a dance routine to “Thriller.” Sean, Mark, and Colin came to join in, and the crowd squealed in delight to see them attempt some coordinated moves.
“Dance off!” someone yelled, and now the music flipped to Rihanna’s “Umbrella.” People cleared the floor for Colin, who started breakdancing, his blond hair, scraped back into a ponytail, already slick with sweat as he twirled around the floor on his back.
Everyone whooped and cheered, but then he stopped, shook his head, clutching his back as though he’d tweaked it.
Someone switched the music again, a hidden feud over whose playlist was linking to the speakers.
As Daft Punk’s “Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger” came on, Sean moonwalked into the middle of the floor, then launched into his signature dance move, the robot.
Chloe looked around again. Where was Rob?
But when she turned back to the dance floor, she found him, center stage next to Sean, copying his moves.
Oh no. If Sean was good at the robot—and he was—Rob was spectacular.
His arms moved back and forth with mechanical precision, held stiff, then jerking at the elbows.
His legs moved in sudden, robotic steps, and he closed his eyes, as though his face had powered down, devoid of all emotion.
The crowd around him went wild. Sean laughed, saw he was outgunned, and quickly conceded the floor.
“Who is that guy?” someone whispered. “Chloe’s boyfriend, Rob,” someone else said.
And soon the crowd was chanting, “Rob! Rob! Rob!”
At first, Chloe felt alarmed by what he was doing—it was too good; he would give himself away. But then he caught her eye and winked, and she couldn’t help laughing. Everyone was too impressed to question how he was doing this.
When the song ended, Rob’s face reanimated into a smile. He tried to move away, to give someone else a chance in the spotlight, but the crowd wouldn’t have it and pulled him back to the center. “Do it again, do it again!” they cried, and now everyone wanted a lesson from him on how to do the robot.
He looked up and caught Chloe’s eye, checking she was okay with this.
She could only nod and laugh. If she’d brought Rob here to impress everyone, then it was mission accomplished.
As she watched him try to teach Harriet, Elaine, and Amara, she noticed Sean on the sidelines with Colin.
He rubbed a hand along his jaw, briefly glanced across the dance floor at her, then turned and put an arm around Colin.
Too busy to reply to her email when he had two PAs. Well fuck you, Sean Adler.
Chloe’s new dress suddenly felt uncomfortably tight; she had drunk too much wine, she needed some fresh air.
As she walked outside into the mild evening, she felt the quiet like a refreshing wave, washing off all that pointless small talk.
She wandered through Grove Quad, keen to get away from the noise of the party, then almost tripped over something on the path.
Looking down, she saw Richard the whippet, looking up at her expectantly.