Chapter 5
They were expecting him at the shoot by six thirty, but he wasn’t ready to encounter Jess again.
She stirred up too many memories of Samantha, and proved to be just as fiery.
He knew his anger towards Jess was outsized, that the fast fury rising in his gut when he saw her, misdirected—he was mad at Samantha, not Jess—but he couldn't help it.
Something in him wanted to hold stubbornly onto his anger like a shield around his heart. Anger was better than brokenness.
“You’ve landed yourself in a fine conundrum,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
They’d probably be bloodshot from stress.
He wouldn’t be surprised at all if he found a new grey hair or two this morning in the mirror.
Frankie would give him a hard time about both.
Greys they could cover, but bloodshot eyes weren't a good look for on-screen closeups.
Nate pulled on the closest pair of blue-black jeans and a crumpled white shirt from a pile on the floor—the costume team would have him in something else soon—and, reluctantly, he made his way to the kitchen.
Thankfully already dressed and not in her underwear this time, Jess sat at the wooden table, cradling a coffee in both hands.
Her outfit was far more casual today: a loose grey t-shirt and pair of fashionably faded jeans, her thick raven hair tied up into a twisted bun, showing off the gentle curve of her neck.
Dressed simply, she looked softer and more vulnerable than she had in the little black number from yesterday.
The outfit still showed her curves, but it hinted at a different side to Jess.
One that was less party-girl, and more down to earth.
Maybe someone he’d quite like to get to know?
A tug at his heart reminded him of the danger of that kind of thinking, and he quickly put his guard back up, allowing the safer heat of annoyance and distrust to brew in his empty stomach.
“I see you found the coffee?” Moving to the small kitchen area, he felt the jug with the back of his hand. Still hot enough for a cup of tea. He placed an English Breakfast tea-bag in a mug, poured the jug, and waited while the steaming water changed to a delicious golden-brown.
“I used the last of the milk. Sorry,” Jess said, not sounding sorry at all.
His lips tightened. Black tea it was then.
“I’ll just have to add plenty of sugar,” he said, trying not to let his voice give away his annoyance. He could be civil. Perhaps then she’d be open to negotiations about the cottage. He didn’t plan on leaving.
It may have been petty, but he’d lost so much recently, he wanted to dig his toes in and keep this one thing.
The cottage had been a blessing for the last few days.
In the middle of nowhere, without the traffic or lights of the city, Nate had slept better than he could remember.
It was exactly what he needed to recover, and he wasn’t prepared to give it up.
Some of the crew were sharing twin rooms in a cheap hotel in Rangiora, and Frankie had been gossiping about how many of the men on set were loud snorers.
With trying to memorise lines, and all the Samantha stuff to process, he already had enough noise inside his head to make sleep difficult without adding snoring into the mix. No, the cottage was his.
He hovered in the kitchen with his tea, unsure if he should join Jess at the table, but if they were going to discuss the cottage, perhaps sitting across from her was best for negotiations.
It had to be better than yelling at each other in their underwear like they did last night.
Moving slowly, as if she might detonate if he made a wrong move, he slid into the seat opposite her and tapped the side of his mug with a finger.
“Did you sleep okay?” Nate asked after an uncomfortably long silence, falling back on his deeply ingrained English politeness to break the ice. His parents would be proud, he thought with a smirk.
“Just fine,” she said, but from the slump in her posture, Nate suspected it was a lie.
“I was thinking,” he started, keeping his tone calm. “I’m sure Tom will have some other accommodation available for you if you explain the situation. It was busy yesterday, and he probably just made a mistake. It makes sense, seeing as you were a last-minute hire.”
He paused, watching for clues of her openness to the idea, and let his eyes wander over her in a way he hadn’t allowed himself last night when she was standing in her lingerie.
Although he’d seen enough to know her hourglass figure and silky honey-skin would make most men crumble.
Now, in the seconds while he waited for her answer, he took in her full oval-shaped lips and lash-heavy eyes.
She wasn’t wearing makeup, but she didn't need to.
His ex, Samantha, rarely wore makeup either and, even close up, Jess bore a striking resemblance.
The natural blush over her high cheeks. Dark, thick brows framing her face and emphasising large hazel eyes. They could be sisters.
Doppelgangers. That was the word for it. It was unnerving.
Jess lifted her eyebrows and placed her coffee on the table, matching his measured tone. “There was no mistake. I saw my name next to this address with my own eyes. Tom must have sent you to the wrong place.”
He stared at her. From her set jaw and stiff posture, he could see the resemblance to Samantha didn’t stop at a physical one.
Like he suspected, Jess was just as strong-minded as his ex, and clearly not someone who shrunk into the background.
The kind of woman he always found himself attracted to.
But since Samantha’s betrayal, it was an attraction mixed with pain.
Eyes still locked with Jess’s, Nate quickly pushed both feelings deep down until there was nothing but sweet, numb indifference.
“What?” she asked, challenging him.
“You remind me of someone.”
Jess scowled. Her cell phone sat on the table between them and a notification flashed on the screen, distracting Nate. He glanced at it instinctively, catching the name ‘Dave’. Below it, two other notifications listed the same name.
Ah, right. The perfect rebuttal formed in his mind.
“Well, you could continue sleeping on the couch if you wish, but I assume your boyfriend—Dave, is it?—wouldn’t appreciate you sharing accommodation with another man?”
Jess yanked the phone close and flipped it over.
“I don’t appreciate you looking at my phone messages, but no, Dave is not my boyfriend.
And if that’s a subtle way of seeing if I’m single, it’s not very subtle.
Yes, if you need to know, I am single and I plan on keeping that status, so you can forget any of the charming moves you were thinking of making. ”
He lifted his hands in surrender. “I had no such intention,” he said, meaning every word. No way would he put himself through that kind of hell again. Women like Jess and Samantha left a wake of heartache. Dave was probably her latest victim.
The fury rose again, and he allowed the comfort of it to settle across his mind.
These beautiful women, like Jess, thought their looks gave them permission to do anything with no consideration for who it hurt.
And she assumed he’d make a move just because she’s gorgeous?
The arrogance of it. Anyway, if he did, he’d be setting himself up for an eventual long-distance relationship when he returned to London, and he already knew how those went.
It was hard to maintain any kind of relationship with his usual job, let alone a long-distance one.
Samantha clearly hadn’t been happy with it, and they’d been a matter of hours from each other most of the time.
How would New Zealand to London even work—
Feeling awkward suddenly, Nate broke eye contact with Jess and checked his watch. Six fifteen. What was he doing considering it at all?
He cleared his throat. “I guess we’ll have to discuss the house situation later if we can’t work it out now. There’s a fifteen minute drive to set, and Frankie expects me there for makeup and hair by six thirty.”
“I have an early start, too.”
“That’s that then.” Nate drained half the black, sugary tea in one long gulp and stood to empty the rest into the sink, quickly rinsing his mug and setting it upside down in the dish-rack.
“See you on set.” Although he hoped not too often. She’d been a confusing distraction the day before, and he could do without the reminder of his ex constantly over his shoulder.
Jess parted her soft, full lips, as if to protest, and then closed them again. “Fine. We’ll discuss this later.”
“Lunch break is at one. We can go see Tom and let him sort it out. Does that sound fair?”
She lifted her chin, and he thought he saw it quiver slightly. “I’m sure it was a simple mistake, and he has somewhere else for you,” she repeated.
“One o’clock,” he insisted. Time was slipping away, and he hated being late.
Grabbing the jacket he’d left hanging next to the front door last night, he rummaged in the pocket for his car keys.
Finding them, he stole a last look at Jess.
She faced away from him, elbows resting on the table, shoulders tense.
Her high messy bun and slim neck sent a jarring wave of painful memories through his gut.
His lips tingled at the reminder. They knew the sweet taste of that neck.
The silky softness. Except it wasn’t the same one, he reminded himself.
He turned away, opened the door, and quickly put as much distance between himself and Jess as he could.
JESS HEARD THE DOOR SLAM AND CLOSED HER EYES.
The coffee mug clasped between both her hands proved an ineffective barrier against the confusion of emotions pulsing around her body.
She had to leave too; they were expecting her at the meeting, but first she needed to calm down.
Two nights of poor sleep in a row left her struggling to control her emotions.
It wouldn’t be a good look turning up to set flustered and angry.
Or worse, crying. Who knew what she’d allow to slip out of her mouth?
She’d never been good at faking her feelings or saying the ‘polite’ thing.
Reaching instinctively for the phone, she dialled her best friend Poppy’s number. Poppy, a neonatal nurse, was an early riser, so she’d be up, and she always knew the right thing to say to calm her down.
“Hey Jess…How’s everything going?” Poppy answered breathlessly. “How’s the…filming? Have you met…anyone famous?”
Jess felt a catch in her throat at the sound of her friend’s voice. “It’s pretty good,” she managed.
“Pretty good? That doesn’t…sound like you? Everything…phew…okay?”
Although complete opposites, the two women were inseparable. Poppy, with her quiet routines and sensible nature, was the perfect balance for Jess’s more extroverted, free-spirit.
“Are you running? At six in the morning?” Jess asked, steering the conversation away from herself temporarily. She needed to get her emotions under control. Wiping at her cheeks, she waited for Poppy to answer.
“My lungs…think I’m running…but sadly, the reality is a fast walk on the treadmill. ‘Jog’ at a stretch.”
Jess laughed and her friend joined her. After an exaggerated breath, Poppy continued. “Nope, I give up…What’s up? Is filming not the star-fest you imagined it’d be?”
“The filming is going okay, I guess. Busy. Not sure I’m being all that helpful, but I’m trying.”
“Do I need to come out there and check on you? You sound awful.”
“Thanks, Poppy, but I’m fine. There’s just…a guy issue, but it’ll hopefully be sorted—”
“A guy issue?” Poppy interrupted, laughing again. “Not Dave?”
“Well, yes, but no, another one, unfortunately.”
“You’re outrageous. I can barely keep—”
“I know, I know. One of the jerk actors is in my bed and I’m trying to get rid of him, but—”
“In your bed!?”
“It’s not what it sounds like.” And, Jess reflected, it’d be a situation they’d laugh about later, but not right now. Not while the screaming hurricane of emotions inside her was still raging. “That’s usually my problem, but it’s a bit different this time. An accommodation mix up.”
“Wild. You do get yourself into interesting mix-ups.”
Jess sighed. Poppy wasn’t wrong. But it wasn’t intentional. Life just got complicated where men were involved.
“I’m working on that,” she reassured Poppy, and herself. “Cross my heart.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“I just wanted to see if Jimble’s okay? He’s the only man I care about right now.”
“Jimble is one happy kitty. He convinced me to share my fries and chicken last night and to let him lick my cereal bowl this morning.”
Jess smiled, her pulse calming at the thought of her gorgeous cat. Her cat and her bestie were the only two people she really needed in her life. “He’ll get fat.”
“I like my men cuddly.”
“You’re the best, Poppy. I better go. I’m meant to be at the production meeting soon.”
“Production meeting? It’s like you’re in Hollywood.”
“Both Rangiora and Hollywood are too full of actors for my liking.”
“Who am I talking to? You’d usually be totally into all those gorgeous—”
“I’m trying to avoid complications, remember? Give Jimble an extra hug from me, okay?”
“I will,” Poppy promised. “Good luck!”
Jess said her goodbyes and hung up, feeling tired but far more ready to face whatever the day had for her, even if it included a one o’clock appointment with Nate Mitchell.