Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Romy
We had to wake up early to film and catch the best light. I’m hanging around because Zander asked if I could so I can give him my input when needed and make any changes necessary to the set dressing once we see it on film.
I hug my clipboard at the edge of the field, trying to look like a professional taking notes as my stomach twists into knots watching Zara Sloan tilt her chin up to the sky while Zander tucks a strand of hair behind her ear with natural ease, causing havoc in my brain.
Rumors are that they were a couple once upon a time. They’ve remained friends obviously, since she’s the one sprawled out on a plaid blanket with a wicker basket as if she stepped right out of a country magazine.
Her smile is soft, and Zander doesn’t use his cocky smile. No, the infuriating grin is nowhere on display, but rather, she gets one that looks almost real. The one I’ve only ever gotten sparingly.
One of the camera guys shouts something, and the clapboard snaps shut. Zander lies beside her on the blanket, the brim of his cowboy hat shadowing his eyes, but not enough because I see his eyes catch hers. They laugh at something I can’t hear.
The thread I’m holding onto snaps when he rolls on top of her.
Relax. It’s all choreographed.
I know this, yet it doesn’t stop my chest from caving in. Especially when Zara’s hand slides up his arm as if she’s familiar with the map of his body.
The crew murmurs their approval behind the camera, and I overhear someone whisper, “God, they look good together.”
I flinch. But they’re right. He’s broad and strong, and she’s soft and delicate. They fit perfectly together, and I’m not the only one who sees it.
I force my attention back to my clipboard, scribbling notes that are nonsense, to block anyone from witnessing my unraveling.
The co-director yells cut, and laughter ripples through the field. Zara pushes up on her elbows, and Zander offers her his hand, tugging her up in a way that looks effortless. He says something to her, and she laughs, tilting her head back as though he’s so funny.
He’s not funny. He’s a grump most of the time.
One of the crew says, “You two could sell a million records on looks alone.”
I’d like to meet him in a back alley.
I click my pen so hard Zara notices. Her attention flicks my way as she laughs as if she’s already part of the crew. It doesn’t sound forced at all, as though she’s been here this whole time.
They take a break, and Zander grabs a bottle of water from the cooler, twisting the cap off before handing it to her. A gesture that is gentlemanly and shouldn’t mean anything, but I feel sliced open by it.
It’s just his job. All an act.
Zara walks toward me with effortless grace and stops right in front of me. Her smile is open and welcoming.
I hate her.
“You must be Romy. Zander mentioned you,” she says, holding out her dainty hand.
I blink.
Before I can answer, Zander comes to her side and gestures toward me. “Zara, this is Romy Owens. She manages The Knotted Barn, where the ceremony will be held. She’s done amazing stuff up there.”
Huh, interesting introduction.
I guess I’m a nobody beyond a set decorator. Guess I’m not the one he kissed in a dark closet yesterday and then said nothing about it after.
“Pleasure,” Zara says.
I take her hand, gripping it firmly, but I’m sure my smile isn’t sincere. “Welcome to Willowbrook.”
Her eyes flash, clearly catching the bite in my voice, but she doesn’t call me out on it. Instead, she giggles, leaning toward Zander as she says, “Everyone’s been so welcoming. Honestly, it feels like I’ve been here longer than a day.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, pulling back my hand. “You fit right in.”
Zander watches me. I force myself to look away, flipping my clipboard open as though my notes are the most important thing in the world.
His gaze stays on me a little longer until they get called back to the blanket.
“It was good to meet you,” Zara says.
I offer her a tight smile. “Keep up the good work.”
Zander tilts his head, but when I return my attention to my clipboard, he follows Zara to the blanket. Zara laughs at something one of the cameramen says. She tips her head, dark hair shining, and Zander grins at her.
The ache in my chest spreads like a disease.
They set up the next shot, and the director mutters something about how natural the chemistry is while another crew member agrees. Zander helps Zara smooth out the blanket, his fingers brushing hers.
I snap the clipboard shut. I cannot do this, so I turn around to leave.
“Romy,” he calls after me.
I’m surprised he even noticed I was leaving. I glance up, and Zander is striding toward me, a sheen of sweat glinting at his temple.
“How does it look?” he asks, nodding at the clipboard as though I have any meaningful feedback written on it.
I arch a brow, channeling every ounce of composure I can muster. “Like a romantic picnic.”
Something flickers in his eyes, but he doesn’t bite. He smirks that slow, half smile that leaves me off balance. “That’s good, right?”
I shrug and jot a note that’s probably gibberish. “If the goal was chemistry, you and Zara nailed it.”
He studies me, peeling back every layer I’m trying to hide.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
He sounds genuine. I should snap out of this. I know it’s just a music video, but there are always so many doubts with Zander Shaw.
I shut the clipboard. “Fine. Just need to get back to work. Ben and Gillian’s wedding has taken a back seat with all this.” I wave dramatically at the surrounding production.
His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t push. Which makes this worse. Because if he wanted to know, he could lean in, drop his voice low enough, and remind me of what it felt like when his mouth covered mine in the dark.
But he doesn’t. He lets me walk away.
My heels dig into the grass as the crew’s laughter rises up behind me. Someone repeats for the fifteen millionth time how good Zander and Zara look together, and I deny myself the urge to whip around and scream, We all heard you the first fifty times.
Whatever happened in that closet at Laurel’s was a mistake. And judging by the fact that he didn’t stop me from leaving, Zander Shaw thinks so too.