“Just curious, huh?” Lyn bent closer. “She’s very pretty, isn’t she? Very smart, too.”
“It’s not…I’m not…”
“And what about Jenna? Or is that another one ofthosesituations?” He had no idea how the hell Lyn knew about Brody’s scheme, but that certainly appeared to be what they were hinting at.
“How did you…?”
Lyn gave him that piercing look, a reminder that they knew everything that went on on set. “She likes her tea with milk and two sugars, and her coffee the same. Be nice to her, she’s not used to the movie world.”
“I know,” he replied sincerely.
He made it to the craft tent, pleasantly empty at the moment, and fished around the miscellaneous boxes of tea for something good. He was happy with an English breakfast, but if he happened upon an Assam, dark and malty and delicious…well, he wouldn’t complain. As luck would have it, he found some. Perfect.
He grabbed two reusable mugs, flicking on the travel kettle. Tea bags in, two sugars for Rosemary and one for him. He used to drink his tea without sugar at all, but something changed in him when he hit thirty-nine. Ellis had just woken up one morning, blearily heading down to the kitchen with Hank at his heels, and when he was standing there, looking out at his garden, he came to the entirely simple but rather remarkable realisation that he deserved to do things that made him happy.
No more forced diets for movies, dehydrating himself so that he looked more ripped on camera. He would never be unfit, he loved sport, loved weight lifting. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the finer things in life. After realising that, hehad never failed to enjoy the no-longer-guilty pleasure of a cup of tea with one sugar.
The kettle finished boiling, and Ellis poured the water in. He carried the cups back to the tent where Rosemary was waiting out of the rain.
“I thought you might want a cup of tea,” he said, handing one to her. “It’s cold out here.”
Lyn was standing beside Rosemary, clearly here to watch Ellis make a fool of himself.
“What? No cup of tea for me?” they said, mimicking a broken heart.
“Ha ha.”
“I didn’t realise you both knew each other,” Rosemary said.
“I was a runner on the last Soldier of Justice movie,” Lyn said, adjusting one of their earpieces. “One time, I accidentally elbowed Ellis in the eye! It was a particularly horrendous lake set, and I slipped on a makeshift stage.”
“They’re lying.” Ellis winked at Rosemary. “Lyn has had it out for me from day one.”
“Clearly. Better check that tea for poison,” they replied, when someone contacted them over the radio and they had to rush off.
“Lyn is the best,” Rosemary said. She took a sip of her tea and sighed in a way that was so deep and lovely that Ellis felt a rush of something akin to desire that pebbled the skin on the back of his neck.
“Thank you, Ellis. I needed this.”
“Anytime.” He sat down beside her in a pop-up chair, and looked out at the rainy film set.
“Once I ordered tea in a diner in Brooklyn and the waiter brought me a mug of microwaved water with a teabag on the side,” Rosemary said.
“Sacrilege. Treason,” Ellis said.
“I never would have thought so before, but Dina, one of my friends I mentioned before, owns a café in Bloomsbury now. She makes me special blends and ships them to New York.”
“What kind of blends?” Ellis watched as she took another thoughtful sip.
“The usual sort of things. Blends for career success, blends for when I have trouble sleeping.”
“You have trouble sleeping, Rosemary?”
“Only sometimes. I…I find it hard to relax.” Electricity crackled through his veins and a dormant part of his brain began clamouring for attention.You could give her that. You could help her relax, take her stress away.Ellis’s muscles tightened. He was entirely fucked. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to take away all her stress, all her worries. And if he could do it using his tongue, even better. How the hell was he meant to navigate this?
“It’s good that you have the tea for that then,” he said. “And the bird-watching.”
“Exactly. And you know, after this morning, I did what you said.”