Chapter Five #2
I blink but I can’t help giving Freddie a funny look. He too is frowning as if he’s entirely mystified by these messages.
I roll my eyes. “A girlfriend?” I ask, which has him frowning even deeper.
“No. I don’t have a bloody clue who that was.”
Another message pops up. He hits accept again. How is he not wholly embarrassed? The robot says, “Don’t ignore me. I can see you’ve read the message. Is he still hot?”
A sickening dread washes over me. I look at Freddie, whose expression says he’s running through a million scenarios as to who these messages could be from, but my fears are way worse. I reach for my phone to confirm they are in fact from Fliss.
FUCK. The Bluetooth. Ahhhhh!
Heat flushes my face like someone’s tipped a bucket of warm honey over my head. I scroll up to the top of my phone and turn Bluetooth off immediately. I hold my spare hand over my mouth, my breathing choppy.
I’m going to be sick. And this time, I can’t blame it on travelling.
The stupid robot chimes in again. “Hattie’s phone. Disconnected.”
What a fucking bitch!
I’m frozen solid. Isn’t that what Bambi would do? Play dead if under threat? Am I under threat? It certainly feels like it.
“Do you have a thing for Sam?” Freddie whispers, leaning towards me.
I turn to look at him slowly. My face must be a picture. I’m sweating. Why am I sweating? How do I talk myself out of this?
“What? No! And I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t my phone.”
Freddie narrows his eyes. I swear I see the corner of his mouth drift up but then it’s gone so quickly, you’d never know. “What a strange coincidence. There must be another Hattie driving nearby.”
I nod. “Very weird.”
He signals to overtake a middle-lane-hogger, and that’s the perfect distraction for me to stare out at the lowering amber sun.
The inside of my cheek is going to be so blistered by the time we reach the lodge from all the biting.
I make a desperate plan to persuade Sara to switch seats with me when we stop off at the services. Anything to escape this embarrassment.
He must know it was about him. But he’s so cool, so schooled, he knows exactly how to play it and that terrifies me. I’m not on his level. He’s expert. I’m a bumbling beginner. I don’t dare reply to Fliss just in case.
I jump when he clears his throat. “So, how’ve you been since I saw you last?”
“Erm, remind me, when was that?”
He scratches his chin. “Probably in hospital… When Sam…”
I save Freddie from having to remind me of the details. “Oh yeah. That was what… Two, three years ago?”
“It was three years ago,” he confirms. “You were living miserably in London if I remember.”
“That’s right.” I swallow, thinking of the flat I lived in with Adam briefly and the reasons we decided to live apart. Was that when the relationship started to crack?
“Sam mentioned that you’re working at the Budes’ gallery down on the seafront now,” he says, changing the subject, the perfect segway from thoughts of my ex.
“Yes, that’s right. It’s the best job I’ve ever had, actually. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
“Great,” he says, then adds, “and I heard about Adam.” He frowns and wipes a hand over his face as if he’s flustered. It’s a look I’ve only seen on him once before. “Sorry, that was insensitive. You probably don’t want to talk about that.”
“No, it’s ok. I’m over it,” I say, which grants me an impressed nod. “Well, I’m over him. I’m not over it, if you know what I mean?”
“I think so?”
I’m not sure I’m quite ready to explain to Freddie how it all went down with Adam, so I stare ahead. “What about you? Still enjoying city life?” I ask, changing the subject as smoothly as I can.
He shrugs, his gaze focused on the road ahead.
“I don’t mind it. The money is great.” I nod, unsure where to take it from there.
But Freddie starts talking again before I can worry whether I’ve let the silence linger too long.
“Do you ever feel like you’ve somehow managed to cram yourself into a box you can’t escape from? ”
“Like a cardboard box? Did Sam tell you I did that?” I throw a frown over my shoulder at my blabber of a best friend.
Freddie’s eyebrows knot together. “Huh?”
“I was drunk. It was one time. Sam had to cut me out.”
He blinks. “I was talking metaphorically.”
I bite my lip. “Mmm. Yeah, I know.” Stupid.
He laughs. “How big was the box?”
“What box?”
“The box you got stuck in.”
“What?”
“Ok, we’ll add that to the pretend-it-didn’t-happen list, yeah?”
Ah, crap. My eyes go wide, which makes Freddie chuckle deeply. Is it normal to be able to feel your pulse in your wrist?
Sexy, stupid man with stupid sexy, deep laugh.
“Tell me about the metaphorical box then. Sounds like you’re having a crisis and I’m hoping it’s worse than mine.”
Freddie snorts. “I just feel that because I’ve been promoted so many times now…”
“Hate that for you.”
“…that I’m stuck in a big, important, pointless role I don’t even really like. I have to drag myself into the office these days and all I do is talk about toplines and budgets all day, every day. It’s… I don’t know.” He shrugs.
“Sorry, but are you seriously sitting there complaining about being too well off and successful to someone who barely earns minimum wage running a tiny gallery?”
“You love it, though,” he points out. “I feel like that’s worth a lot more.”
“No. It literally isn’t. That’s how money works. How did you get promoted again?”
Freddie shakes his head, his green eyes sharp as he laughs.
“I forgot how gobby you get.” He finds Sam in the rear-view mirror. “You two were always so alike. It was like he’d recruited you to join his army against me.”
“That is exactly what happened. We were mortal enemies, brought together to ruin your life.”
Freddie’s expression goes taut again as he signals to overtake, and I wonder if I’ve touched a nerve when Sara startles me by tapping me on the shoulder. “When’s the first stop? I need to go.”
Freddie takes over, saying he’ll make a stop at the next services. Which, thank God, because I was in very real danger of getting along with the man I’m contractually bound to hate.