Page 65 of Love At First Fright
“This place is insane!” Rosemary said, looking around at the cute little kitchen with its colourful tiles, and the open hearth, where a homey-looking sofa waited for them. He had plans for Rosemary on that sofa.
After knocking his head on the low ceiling twice, Ellis followed Rosemary up the narrow stairs. Small bathroom with a deep, clawfoot bathtub—more plans for Rosemary—and one bedroom. It was just what they needed. A round window looked out from the bedroom to the back garden, where the vegetable patch waited to be raided.
They had a late breakfast in the kitchen: Ellis whipped up eggs on toast, the eggs fresh from Mr. Tokes’s hens, while Rosemary cut up some fruit from a local grocer and fought with a stovetop Bialetti to make them both a strong cup of coffee. They ate standing against the countertops.
“Why am I so hungry?” Rosemary said, in between mouthfuls. “Feel like I could eat a horse.”
“It’s the night shoots. These turnaround days are always brutal, your body doesn’t know when to eat or when to sleep, so it compensates by making you feel hungry and tired the whole time.”
He couldn’t help but laugh when Rosemary fired off finger guns and said, “That’s just showbiz baby.”
A small part of Ellis had been worried that being alone with Rosemary might feel strange. After all, they were from very different worlds, and they had only met recently. He hadn’t been in many relationships, but they weren’t meant to feel this easy, were they? Right on cue, like a badly timed rainstorm, Ellis’s phone rang, Brody’s caller ID popping up on the screen.
“I should probably take this,” he said.
“I’ll go unpack,” Rosemary replied, heading upstairs to give him privacy. He didn’t want privacy; he wanted to throw his phone off a cliff.
“You’re a sly piece of shit, Ellis Finch,” Brody began.
“And good morning to you, Brody,” Ellis said drily.
“Where the hell did you disappear off to, huh? You were supposed to go for a drive with Jenna. That convertible was going to be part of a new sponsorship for her.”
“I owe you photos, not my entire weekend, Brody.”
Besides, he thought Jenna had probably found someone much more exciting to take on a winter picnic.
“Where did you go? Just tell me now, and I’ll send Jenna and the paps and all this will be forgiven.”
“Not a chance. I don’t want your forgiveness, Brody, I just want some peace and quiet for one fucking weekend.”
“You want peace? Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, dude, but you’re a star. Imadeyou a star. And that comes with consequences. Or do I need to remind you what could happen if you don’t cooperate?”
And there it was, the old threat raising its ugly head. Always there as an undercurrent in his every interaction with Brody, but never quite surfacing until his agent decided they were in dire straits.
Ellis sighed deeply. “No. You don’t.”
“When you’re back in London we’ll arrange another shoot, next time maybe look a bit more enthusiastic, eh? You both look miserable in the photos.”
“Sure,” Ellis said, defeated. He just wanted this call to end.
“Good man. Well then, have a lovely fucking weekend, Ellis. I hope whoever you’ve shacked up with—and yes, don’t think I don’t know what you’re like—well, I hope they’re worth it for this mess.”
Ellis listened to the sound of Rosemary singing softly to herself as she unpacked upstairs.
“They’re worth it,” he said, and hung up the phone.
He stood in the kitchen for a moment, inhaling the scent of coffee and chopped berries from breakfast. He watched thedust motes dance in the slatted sunlight that came in from the window. He willed his hands to stop shaking.
Eventually, Ellis made his way upstairs, following the tune of Rosemary’s humming. He leant against the bedroom door, his eyes tracing Rosemary’s full figure as she unpacked her things and laid them on a chest of drawers beside the bed.
And then he strode over and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her neck. She smelt delicious, like vanilla and sweet cherries. Rosemary sighed and leant back into his embrace, running her hands up and down his forearms soothingly.
“Everything alright?” she asked.
“Mm-hmm. Just my agent.”
“Do I need to hire a hit man?”
