Chapter Thirty-Seven
Connor didn’t believe in having second thoughts; you made your decision then stuck with it, and that principle had never wavered…until now. His bank account was healthy, he didn’t have debts, he was back where he had wanted to be, so why was he the one pretending to enjoy everything?
It was becoming less of an American dream and more like an American nightmare as far as he was concerned.
Not only was he working with Bonnie all day every day, his evenings were also planned out.
The team wanted to get lots of publicity around them as a couple, so even meals at restaurants were used as an opportunity to promote the series.
It felt like everything he ate was scrutinised and commented on.
Last week he’d got so fed up that he had simply walked into a diner and ordered a cheeseburger and fries.
Unfortunately for him, one of the production team had been waiting for a table and had spotted him as he was leaving.
Bonnie had been livid and yelled at him for being thoughtless.
Apparently it was okay for the production team to eat junk food, but not him.
As much as possible, he preferred to stay at the apartment where he could have a bit of privacy.
It was part of a modern-looking complex of eight apartments built around a courtyard seating area, and only a short drive from the studio.
From the start, he had made it clear that while they shared the kitchen and living area, the show of togetherness did not extend into the bedroom.
The best thing about the apartment was access to the private swimming pool which formed part of the complex.
Connor had taken to rising early, despite the fact that mid-April temperatures were still cool at that time of the day, in order to go for a swim before the other residents woke up.
It was fast becoming the best part of his day.
He would then shower and make breakfast, and take it out onto the balcony to watch the sun rise.
This morning, he had cut short his swim as he wanted time to look at something that had popped into his inbox overnight.
He had only given his forwarding address to Patrick (for family purposes) and Ryan (for social purposes).
If any other friends wanted to contact him, they’d ask Ryan or send an email, but he doubted anyone would; they weren’t those sorts of friends.
He hadn’t expected to hear from anyone that often, but Patrick had emailed a few times to ask how he was and to attach a couple of photos of Brendan.
They had been taken at nursery and his nephew already seemed to have grown since he last saw him.
He recalled his grandad always saying how much they’d grown even if it was only a fortnight since he’d last seen them.
Now he understood why, because children, it seemed, changed quickly.
The email was from Ryan containing several scanned pages from UpClose magazine. The message hoped he was getting on okay, enjoying himself and making the most of the American sunshine, to which the answers were sort of, no and yes.
Rosie was never far from his thoughts and he hoped she had found his letter quickly, so that at least she realised how he felt about her.
He’d left it on top of her radio in the tool store as she always wound that up before starting work in the garden.
He had filled the letter with apologies, but he guessed he’d never know whether they were accepted.
Having made his morning coffee, he took it out on to the balcony and while it cooled, he opened the attachment to Ryan’s email.
He gazed at the picture of him and Rosie standing together.
Unknown dress designer it said. He smiled, remembering how he’d supplied that information because he knew that if asked, Rosie would downplay her achievements, even though you only had to look at that dress to see how talented she was.
Tonight you look ravishing, Florence…
He had meant it too. He was the one who supposedly lived in the social whirl of the celebrity world, but Rosie was the real deal. There was no pretence or artifice about her at all, and it had been refreshing.
Rosie had been right when she’d accused him of pretending to assist with the cooking.
Bonnie was the one in charge and he was allotted specific jobs in the kitchen, but it wasn’t much different to putting a show dog through its paces.
It looked sleek and accomplished but it was still nothing more complicated than following instructions, although in his defence, the wine expertise was genuine.
In the beginning, he was learning as he went along, but he quickly picked up knowledge and experience, and had learnt a lot from talking to vineyard owners.
Depending on whether this series was well received in the States would determine whether or not a second series was required. It could well be a springboard to bigger and better things, but he couldn’t think that far ahead right now. It seemed too far away.
Noises from inside meant that Bonnie was up and about earlier than usual. He closed the email and forced a plastic smile on his face as he headed back indoors.