Page 16 of Love At First Fright
“Oh. Um, thank you,” Rosemary stuttered. She wasn’t used to being complimented so forthrightly upon meeting someone new. “But I’m not in the movie, I wrote it.”
“That’s amazing. I’m writing my own script at the moment, so I’ll have to pick your brain.”
There was something about Jenna that was so genuine and whip-smart, so immediately disarming, that Rosemary couldn’t help but smile. Despite the age gap between them, she could understand what Ellis saw in her.
“What kind of script?” Rosemary asked, as the waiters brought round a tray of prosecco flutes and placed one before her.
“A rom-com. It’s about a dom who is opening a sex dungeon and the health and safety inspector he hires to make sure everything is up to code. The working title isChoking Hazard.”
Ellis coughed into his prosecco, catching Rosemary’s eyes for the briefest moment. There was something unreadable there.
“Well, you’re off to a great start with that title.” Rosemary smiled at Jenna, who leant back in her chair, looking utterly pleased with herself.
The starter was served, a small bowl of pumpkin and fennel soup and a slim slice of walnut and rye loaf. As they ate, Rosemary hoped someone else would join the conversation, but everyone around them was caught up in their own chats.
“So how long have you two been together?” Rosemary asked, trying to find anything to end this agonisingly awkward silence.
“Two days,” Ellis muttered, at the exact same time that Jenna said, “A few weeks.”
“I…see,” Rosemary replied, as tactfully as she could. Why had Ellis said that? Was it a joke? And if it was such a new relationship, shouldn’t they be at the stage of fawning all over each other? If she were in a relationship with someone like Ellis—and in this daydream she actuallylikedhis personality—she wouldn’t have wanted to put clothes on for at least the first two weeks.
“It’s new,” Jenna said finally, but Rosemary didn’t miss theway she elbowed Ellis. “We met through a mutual friend and just hit it off.”
“That’s lovely.”
“What about you, Rosemary? I find it hard to believe you’re single,” Jenna said, taking a dainty slurp of soup.
“That’s very sweet of you to say. But no, I’m single. You know how the saying goes, the only good people are fictional, and all that.”
Jenna nodded sagely, and Rosemary wished that Ellis would stop looking at her like that. What did he mean with that expression? Was he pitying her? She didn’t need his pity. Being single was a choice, and she would remain so until she found someone she actually enjoyed spending time with, that’s all there was to it.
“I can’t imagine any of the fictional people you’re writing quite hit the mark, though,” Ellis said, clearly deciding they weren’t done with this excruciatingly awkward topic of conversation.
“Why’s that?” Jenna asked.
“Because I only write horror books. Everyone is either possessed, is murdered horribly, or transforms into some kind of unholy monstrosity by the end. Not exactly romance material.”
“I don’t know, have you ever heard of monster romance?” Jenna said. Rosemary decided that she and Jenna were going to get on famously.
Thankfully, Rosemary’s neighbour, a woman named Cathy who worked for the studio, decided to pull her into a conversation about adapting novels for screen, and she didn’t need to speak to Ellis for the next course. It was a good thing the servings weren’t too big, because Rosemary had needed room for this dessert.
A decadent dark chocolate and salted caramel torte,garnished with an orange rind. She was in dessert heaven and never wanted to leave. She may have even let out a little whimper of pleasure with the first bite; hopefully it was quiet enough that no one heard her.
The guests dispersed to the hotel bar shortly after dessert was taken away by the small army of serving staff, and Rosemary decided that she was done with dealing with people for the night. Jenna had ended up in an energetic discussion with Vincent about how Nora Ephron was the greatest director in movie history, and in the haste of saying good night to a variety of people she had lost track of Ellis. Thank god, she didn’t want to deal with him again tonight.
Rosemary thought about heading back to her room, but as she stepped out into the foyer, she’d noticed a brass-plated sign for The Snug, followed by an arrow pointing down a lamplit corridor.
Jeremy’s laughter and clomping footsteps echoed behind her, and Rosemary hastened to the Snug—her evening would be better if she didn’t have to interact with him.
Rosemary went inside, pulling the door shut behind her, breathing heavily in her escape from Jeremy. The room was, as the name suggested, snug and cosy, and was only lit by a couple of table lamps and a crackling applewood fire.
For a brief moment, finally alone, she let out a tired exhale.
“Escaping the after-party at the bar, were we?” came a low voice from her right, making Rosemary jump. Ellis Finch, glass of scotch in hand, was reclining in a deep armchair before the fire with a dark expression. Probably because she had interrupted his moody drinking time.
Ellis looked for all the world like the broody lord of the manor, ready to sweep naïve maidens off their feet. Thankfully, Rosemary was no maiden.
“I wasn’t escaping.”
