Chapter Seventeen
“I can’t believe the studio are pushing you to get your cast off early,” Imogen said as she rushed around the kitchen making breakfast, which she had insisted on doing by herself no matter how many times Amelia offered to help.
Amelia grinned behind her coffee cup. “I thought you would be happy about me having two fully functioning hands again.”
Imogen shot her a quick glance. “I think you’re doing just fine with what you’ve got.” Her cheeks went pink.
Amelia doubted she would ever get enough of that combination—the sexy comments paired with Imogen blushing immediately after.
It was so quintessentially Imogen—confident and shy all at once.
“I’ve made do.” She enjoyed their moment of sexually charged eye contact before Imogen visibly shook herself and continued with breakfast. Amelia chuckled.
Imogen took the responsibility of getting Amelia to work on time very seriously.
It had been three weeks since they had made their relationship official.
Halloween had been and gone, and December was fast approaching.
Amelia had spent most of her nights at Imogen’s place.
And whenever she had a late shoot, Imogen stayed at the hotel.
They had made an agreement very early on that they needed to spend as much time together as possible before Amelia had to leave.
Imogen came rushing over with two plates of poached eggs and avocado on toast.
Amelia’s stomach growled in appreciation. “You are spoiling me. You know I’d be happy with some cereal, right?”
“I am not serving my hot, famous girlfriend cereal. How are you going to beat up all the baddies fuelled by only wheat and sugar?” Imogen asked as she sat down opposite her.
“I don’t have to beat up any baddies for another three weeks,” Amelia pointed out. But her leaving date was approaching fast, and they were both constantly aware of it. “Which is why it’s ridiculous that they want my cast off now. The doctor won’t even do it for at least another week.”
“Tell them it’s sore and you need to keep it on for another five weeks.” Imogen sent her a grin. Though Amelia knew she was only half teasing.
She wished she could buy them more time.
But this new director wasn’t going to wait another second for her.
Word had it, he was already frustrated that he had to wait until filming ended on Always the Bridesmaid.
It was flattering, really. It meant he seriously wanted Amelia for the part.
If he didn’t, he could have cast someone who was available now.
“Did you see the latest article that’s circulating?
” Amelia asked after devouring a mouthful of food.
At first, she worried about broaching the topic of tabloids and gossip with Imogen.
Scared she would find it overwhelming or too much to take.
But she had quickly learned that Imogen was staying true to her word and taking it all in her stride.
They were even able to laugh about most of it.
“That we’re already secretly married? I saw it. I wonder what our wedding was like.” Imogen sipped her coffee.
“It must have been small if we managed to keep it secret,” Amelia surmised.
Imogen nodded. “True. Where did we have it?”
“Oh, on the beach. Of course. It was windy, but we didn’t care. We took shelter in a nearby cave.”
“Thank God for caves. Did we wear dresses? Under our coats that were keeping us warm from the wind?”
“We did. Mine had more frills than yours did.”
“Standard. You will have looked like the most beautiful bride in the world.”
“Joint,” Amelia corrected her.
They shared a smile. Easy mornings like this were perfect. Chatting. Sharing breakfast. No hassles. No drama. Just them, together, laughing at the absurdity of life.
“They’re starting to plan the wrap party for Always the Bridesmaid,” Amelia said.
“They wanted a different venue than the Emerald Grand to change things up. I was thinking of suggesting the Wishing Well. How would you feel about that?” She was aware that it would be good business for the bar, but it would also be a lot of work for Imogen.
They weren’t exactly a small group. “I know you guys would put on a great night. Especially after all your success at Halloween. You can discuss it with Piper and Niamh if you want.”
“Would everyone fit?” Imogen asked, clearly going over the logistics in her head.
“I think so. We’ll squash in. The studio would pay you generously.
” Which Amelia knew would really help with some of the refurbishments they wanted to do to the pub.
Amelia would have loved to offer Imogen the money herself—she would give it to her in a heartbeat.
But the one time Amelia had hinted at it, Imogen had instantly dismissed the whole idea.
Amelia understood it. Imogen valued her independence and wanted to build something special on merit, through her own hard work and dedication. But there were other ways to help, like sending some business the Wishing Well’s way. That wasn’t overstepping, it was simply a recommendation.
“I will think about it,” Imogen said while she cut her toast. “And discuss it with the girls. I’m sure we can make it work.” She glanced up at Amelia and smiled. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”
“I’m always thinking of you, so there’s no need to thank me for that. Besides, it’s my favourite pub. There’s nowhere else I’d rather celebrate. And no one else I’d rather celebrate with.”
Imogen straightened, professional expression in place. “I won’t have time to fraternise with the guests. I’ll have a wrap party to host.”
“How about after the party?” Amelia asked, sliding her foot over to run it up Imogen’s leg. “Will you be able to fraternise then?”
Imogen’s eyes darkened. “You better believe I will.”
By the time they finished breakfast, quickly fooled around, and got ready, the rest of their morning disappeared far too quickly. Just like most of their time did.
Amelia had already known that she couldn’t get enough of Imogen, but now she really couldn’t get enough of her. Her addiction had been fuelled, and it was as compelling as ever. Long distance was going to be tough. She would be flying back and forth from LA constantly, every chance she got.
Unless.
Later, after filming about eight different scenes—difficult ones—Amelia disappeared into her trailer.
It was shaping up to be a hell of a day, so she didn’t have long.
But something had been floating around in the back of her mind since breakfast. Amelia took a few minutes to work out how to set up a conference call on her cell.
She had been on them before, of course, but she had never been the initiator.
Once she figured it out, she invited Helen and Veronica to join.
Helen’s face popped up first. “Ah, there’s my favourite client.”
“Who? Me?” Amelia fanned herself.
One corner of Helen’s mouth quirked up fractionally. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Hold up on that. I’m waiting for Veronica too.”
Helen groaned. “You want both of us? Whatever this is, it’s going to cost me sleep. I just know it.”
Amelia feigned offense. “As if I’ve ever cost you sleep. I’m your model client. I know who else you represent, remember.”
“Hmmm. You were easy until you fell in love with that Irish girl.”
“She has a name,” Amelia said, raising an eyebrow. No one disrespected Imogen, not even the all-powerful Helen from halfway across the world.
Helen relented and smiled. “The lovely Imogen. How is she? How’s she been coping with the fallout?”
As predicted, Imogen’s breakup video had resurfaced days after their photo had leaked, and it was still doing the rounds online.
However, thanks in part to Helen’s magic, and thanks to the fact that people mostly saw it for what it was, Chelsea was dealing with much more negative fallout than Imogen was.
Her following had dropped dramatically, and people were calling her out for all kinds of questionable behaviour.
In contrast, the support for Imogen had been overwhelming.
Yes, there were still a few nasties popping up with their hate speech.
There always would be. But this time, that was the minority instead of the majority.
A complete turnaround from when the video originally dropped.
“I think she’s relieved that it has happened, so we can get it out of the way and move on.
She took it like a champ. And she’s very grateful for everything you did to help her. ”
“It’s my job,” Helen said simply. But sometimes Helen went above and beyond for people she had a soft spot for, and they both knew it. “I’m glad she battled through.” There was the proof.
At that point, Veronica’s face appeared on the screen in its own little box beside Helen’s. “Sorry, I was finishing up with a client. Oh hello, Helen. I didn’t know we were all here.”
“I’m still unsure what we’ve been summoned for, V,” Helen replied dryly.
“I have something to run past you both,” Amelia said absently, as she tried to scratch the inside of her cast, but she couldn’t quite get her finger inside.
“Do you want to run it past us today?” Helen asked with obvious impatience.
Amelia stopped fidgeting and shot them a smile. “Sorry. The itch is terrible.”
Helen rolled her eyes. Veronica was still typing.
Amelia decided to throw her question right out there. “How would it affect my career if I made Ireland my base?”
Silence dragged on for a few seconds. Helen stared. Veronica stopped typing and stared too.
“Did you have a location in Ireland in mind?” Helen asked first. “I hear Cork’s nice. Or Dublin?”
Amelia gave her a look. Smartass. “I think I want to stick to Ballyluck. But what would it mean for my career if I did?”
Veronica pitched in. “I mean, are you still prepared to travel? A lot of the jobs will still be here in LA. New York. Chicago.”