Chapter 3 – Bryn
Chapter Three
Bryn
I expected him to be late. He wasn’t.
I expected him to be wearing at least one piece of clothing that was leather. He wasn’t.
I expected him to have totally ignored my comment about not clashing with the color or my dress. The exasperating man took my concerns to heart and was wearing a sapphire blue dress shirt with dark suit pants.
In fact, if I had to admit it, the man looked good. Really good.
The bastard.
Twisting the fringe that’s dangling off my clutch, I try and ignore Henrik as we make our way to the event. I can sense he’s staring at me but I won’t give him the satisfaction of doing what he wants.
I’m trying. I really am, to not completely hate the man. I was expecting the stuck-up, misogynistic rockstar that I met three years ago. Instead a totally different person showed up on set. I know people can change…but this much?
I can still hear his voice in my head. The harsh, cruel words laughed out with the rest of his bandmates.
Nope. No, I’m not going down that rabbit hole right now. Not when in a couple of minutes I’m going to have to push all my feelings deep, deep, deep down and smile like he’s my best friend in the universe.
“You know,” he begins, his voice soft but commanding. “You are eventually going to have to acknowledge me. There will be people there waiting to take our picture together.”
I think about not answering him, but I have the sneaking suspicion that if I don’t say something about this topic, he’ll keep pestering.
Slowly, and with as haughty a look as I can muster, I turn my head to him.
“I don’t have to acknowledge you. I just have to smile and stand near you. Easy.”
“You know there’s a lot more to it than that Princess.”
“Stop calling me that,” I snap, the words out of my mouth before I realize how deep under my skin he’s gotten. “We’re not at a table read. We’re not on set. You don’t need to call me that.”
Satisfaction spreads across his face and it hits me that I’ve played directly into his hands.
“Finally,” he laughs, hands lifting into the air before landing back on his thighs. “You show me some emotion other than complete hate.”
I look away from him, tilting my chin higher. The scenery out the window is nothing but blurry lights–my senses and attention are still fully on Henrik even though I’m not looking at him.
“Annoyance is a good progression from hate. Tells me that there’s still a chance I can break this icey shell you’ve put up against me.” There’s a bit of a pause before I hear his exhale. “You know, Bryn ,” he punctuates my name, “we could get over this little hurdle if you’d just tell me why you’re mad. I can’t think of anything I’ve done to you over the last week that would make you hate me this much.”
I snort. Of course he thinks it’s something he’s done this week. I was so inconsequential to him that he doesn’t remember the first time we met.
“You haven’t done anything this week.”
“Then what the hell, Bryn! Why the cold shoulder and dagger eyes every time I’m near if I haven’t done anything?”
“You haven’t done anything this week. I didn’t say you hadn’t done anything to me in the past.”
“Wait. You’re mad at me for something I did when my band auditioned you for the music video?”
“Ha! So you do remember.” Looking over at him I expect to see realization on his face. Maybe even embarrassment or shame. What I don’t expect is pure confusion. He’s looking forward, staring into space as if he’s trying to put something together.
“You almost ruined me,” I say with more malice than I was intending. That gets me his full attention again.
“Just because we didn’t cast you?”
The car stops and excited screams begin to sound from all around us. Taking a deep breath to prepare myself for what’s to come, I then paste a big smile on my face.
As the car door opens, someone’s hand stretches out to help me. I direct my last words over my shoulder.
“If that’s what you need to think to sleep soundly again at night, sure.”
If he can’t admit the real reason to himself, then I’d rather not waste my breath. We only had a couple of months of filming before us. We could continue as we were. Pretending we could tolerate each other and that we were friendly.
It seemed we were both experts at it.
Flashes start as soon as I’m standing. Smiling, I wave out to the crowd as my name is called in every direction. The hand that steadied me as I got out of the car slipped away as I took my first steps onto the royal blue carpet–the color of the main charity we’re here for tonight.
There is so much noise and light I find myself stunned. My heart jackhammers in my chest.
I jump a little, my grin only slipping a little, when an arm comes around my waist and gives me a squeeze. Even with my last words still lingering on my lips, Henrik is giving me a squeeze of reassurance.
Looking up at him, my heart takes on a new fluttering beat. I try to ignore it. Pushing forward, I continue the charade and laugh up at him. Like we’re having the time of our lives. He smiles back down, but there’s something hard in the edges of his lips. I can’t look away.
Sensing again that I’m stuck in place, Henrik moves us down the carpet.
“You have me all wrong,” he whispers, ducking his head so that his lips are right by my ear. It’s hard to keep my smile in place as the gentle touch. I gaze out at all the photographers in a haze.
Turning to him and grabbing his free hand, I laugh in his face. “Whatever rockstar.”
“Fine. Just hit your damn mark.”
“Lights,” someone calls from behind us. “Cameras!”
“Bitch,” I mumble, as I give Henrik’s side a hard pinch. To everyone else it probably looked like a friendly, joking nudge.
“Smile,” he grunts out in a pained huff.
And this time my smile is genuine. I was going to win this hating game.