Page 11 of Hollywood Games
She set her bags on the desk and sat down in the big leather chair behind it, idly twisting from side to side. So, this was the nerve centre of the Kinloch Estate? No wonder they were screwed. Before she googled flame throwers she thought about what else she could do to raise the profile of the castle, now the website was finished. Sure, she could always add more pages and content, but it wouldn’t add much more to what was already there. Her phone beeped with notifications and she picked it up. They were all from Instagram.
When she first arrived in Scotland, she’d opened a personal account to document her experiences and keep in touch with her friends back in London. The feed mostly featured the cabin, the landscape, and selfies of her and Basil, who liked sitting on her shoulder and playing with her curly hair. She then opened an account for the castle, where she could post the incendiary photos she’d taken of Rory. She knew they needed to grow an audience fast, so played on the fact Rory was eye candy extraordinaire, relying on his disinterest in social media to get away with what she posted. Hopefully he would never look and notice #HotScot #HotMenInKilts #HotMan and the other shameless click-bait hashtags she was using. So far, followers were few, but she knew it wouldn’t take much for that to change.
As she opened the app she saw the notifications were for her personal account. Someone was systematically going through and liking every photo she had ever posted. She went to the account and left the planet for the stars. Brad Bauer had just commented ‘Yeah, baby!’ on the first photo she’d ever posted, the one she’d used the ironic hashtag #Braveheart2 for.
Was it really him? Her heart tried to hammer its way out of her chest as she flicked through to his feed. She scrolled through his photos as @Brad_Bauer_4_Realz followed her and more notifications pinged through. He was now re-posting her photos, and adding them to his story, saying she was the ‘Brave to his Braveheart’.What the fuck?
Zoe swallowed and attempted to engage her brain. He had millions of followers, but followers could be bought, and his photos didn’t look personal enough to be authentic. They were mostly generic publicity photos, the kind you could google in a second. She was torn between disappointment and overwhelming relief. It had to be a fan account. Someone must have seen theVanity Fairarticle, and decided to emulate Brad’s love for all things Scottish. Her heart rate returned to normal and she followed him back. Maybe she would see other ideas she could copy for the castle’s publicity – any excuse to take more photos of a semi-naked Rory. She yawned and stretched. She needed to get back to the cabin, refill the Rayburn with wood and check on Basil.
Her phone pinged again, this time with a private message from the Brad Bauer fan account.
Hey, babe, this is Brad. Loving your posts and digging your cabin. I’m in the UK prepping for B2. We need to talk.
‘No, we don’t.’ Zoe rolled her eyes and deleted the message. The real Brad Bauer would have been weird enough, but she had no time for entertaining a random wannabe. It was time to get home.
Rory satacross the kitchen table from his mother as she drank her morning cup of tea. Their relationship had never been particularly close but now it was plain odd. It was as if she was trying to work out who she was, and be a proper mother to Rory for the first time. Their interactions were strained, as if they were two strangers with nothing in common, forced together on a desert island.
He had always known his mother to be in complete mastery of her emotions. Now she became anxious when she didn’t know where he was. She would get up in the night to check that Rory was still there, and only settled when he was close. When he wasn’t fixing the latest part of the castle to fall down, walking Bandit, or speaking to the lawyers about the lawsuit brought by Colquhoun Asset Management, he’d sit with her whilst she read or did needlepoint.
Hopefully today would bring more clarity to her situation. They were driving to Edinburgh for an ultrasound and maybe a biopsy. Normally they would have stayed with Barbara’s best friend, Linda. But she was Lucy’s mother and from the Colquhoun family who were currently suing the estate. So they would stay the night in a cheap bed and breakfast. Rory didn’t care where they stayed, but knew his mother was mortified they’d sunk so low. He half expected her to wear a wig and dark glasses in case anyone saw them. His mother had been born to the role of countess, the ultimate social animal, but now she had no one to turn to but him.
He texted Zoe to let her know they were leaving. Barbara eyed his phone and her lips thinned. Rory switched it off and laid it on the table.
‘I’m here for you, Mum. Okay?’
Barbara smiled and Rory repressed a sigh. He could go without speaking to Zoe for twenty-four hours. The sooner they knew what was wrong with his mum the better. It was unsettling seeing her meek and cowed. He almost missed the despotic ice queen he had known all his life. He thought of Zoe. No wonder he was attracted to her fire. He’d been brought up by a woman who could freeze a man to the bones with a glance.
By the timeZoe reached the estate offices that morning, Rory had already left with his mother. Barbara was her least favourite person on the planet, but it didn’t stop her empathising with her. She knew what her own mum had gone through, and she had her dad for support. Barbara didn’t appear to have anyone, and Zoe couldn’t begrudge her for wanting her son around. That night she was going out with Fiona to The King’s Arms, Kinloch’s only pub, to support Jamie, who was playing there. Clive, the owner, was trying to create a gastropub and hoped Jamie’s looks and talent might bring in more customers. Fiona had booked them a table and Zoe couldn’t wait.
As she sat at the big desk, wrapped in a coat against the cold, a small fan heater blowing at her feet, her phone pinged incessantly with notifications and messages. Overnight, both her Instagram account and the castle’s had received more than a thousand new followers. Most of them were young, American and obsessed with taking selfies. The common link was that they were all followers of the fake Brad Bauer account. It was weird, but she didn’t want to dwell on it when Rory and his mum were occupying so much of her mind. She turned her phone off and looked at the office. Maybe she could try and create a bit of order out of the chaos.
Two hours later, she was covered in dust and had tidied approximately two per cent of the room. No wonder Rory couldn’t bring himself to sort it out. Her heart ached for him and she resolved to do everything she could to help. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone screaming her name from outside. She ran to the window, opened it and looked down to the courtyard below. Standing on the snowy cobbles stood Fiona, carrying Liam under her arm like a sack of potatoes. ‘Fi?’ she called out.
Fiona looked up. ‘Thank fuck. Why won’t you answer your phone?’ Zoe felt a sense of alarm. Fiona was wide-eyed and her cheeks were flushed.
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yes, yes. Hurry! Get down here. You’ve got to come now! There’s no time!’
Oh god, had something happened to Rory? Morag?Zoe shut the window, grabbed her coat and bag and ran down the stairs to the courtyard. ‘What is it, Fi? What’s going on?’
Fiona gripped her arm and stared manically at her. ‘It’s Brad Bauer! He’s with Mum now. He wants you!’
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7
Zoe left her truck and ran down the road towards the post office, Fiona breathlessly relaying what had happened.
‘He showed up about an hour ago, in this fricking enormous Mercedes with a driver and a location manager, and assistant or something. Of course, he couldn’t find the cabin, so started asking at the post office. Mum nearly had a fit when he walked in. So, she put them out the back, rang you, then Rory, then me, then Jamie, then you another twenty times. Jamie’s left work and is on his way to the cabin and I was sent to the library. When you weren’t there, I started running around Kinloch yelling for you. Mum called in Brenda to cover the post office and now she’s out the back having kittens, trying to entertain him. It would have been easier if the sodding Queen had shown up.’
Zoe’s head was buzzing. That Instagram account was real? And she’d completely ignored him. ‘Holy crap, Fi! What’s he like? What does he want?’
Fiona turned to her and gave her a look as they hurried down the high street. ‘He’s a megastar, what do you think he’s like? Bloody gorgeous, smaller than you’d expect, abnormally white teeth, a watch that cost more than my house. As for what he wants? You’ll have to ask him yourself, although I hope you don’t leave us for La-la land, you’ve only just got here.’
The two women looked at each other and giggled with mild hysteria. Turning off the high street to enter Morag’s house via the back door, they slowed to catch their breath. Fiona hefted Liam to her other arm and reached to Zoe’s hair making adjustments. ‘There, you’re gorgeous. Go knock him dead.’ She opened the back door, twirled Zoe around and pushed her through in front of her, calling out, ‘I’ve found her.’
Morag ran into the kitchen, cheeks even redder than Fiona’s, and clutched Zoe’s arms.
