Page 34 of Hollywood Games
‘Message received and understood.’ He kissed her, then sat up in bed, looking intently at her. ‘Zoe, will you please consent to—’ Her hands flew to his mouth. ‘Get me a glass of water?’
She leapt up with a roar. ‘This is not going to end well for you, Rory MacGinley,’ she yelled, grabbing her pillow and bashing him over the head with it as he fell back laughing on the bed.
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The next day more people arrived to work on the castle. The building had never seen so much life, and when Brad and the main crew arrived for two weeks of pre-production, things escalated. If Rory was twitchy about the invasion of his home, Barbara was paranoid. She stalked the castle corridors giving people the evil eye, until Brad stepped in. His charm offensive included putting Crystal at her disposal, and insisting she ate with him every evening, getting his private chef to cook her favourite meals. Zoe decided it was best Rory remained oblivious to this fact. She also didn’t mention theTatlershoot, slated to happen near the end of filming, and the fact she’d agreed to be the stand-in for Brad’s co-star, Kirsten. Apparently stars of Kirsten’s calibre didn’t show up on set until the last possible moment, so people like Zoe stood in for them whilst the camera and lights were set up.
Sam was on the phone to her constantly, wanting to know exactly what was going on and for any intel that would help in her mission to seduce Brad. She’d convinced the producers of the London-based soap she was working on to give her two weeks of compassionate leave to spend with her dying grandmother in Kinloch. Zoe asked why she couldn’t have thought of something a bit more creative, but Sam said the old ones were the best.
In the middle of May, the castle went from buzzing to organised chaos as the rest of the crew and cast arrived. Rory and Zoe tried to be there to greet everyone who was moving in, a task Rory approached with resigned forbearance. Before the heads of departments had arrived two weeks previously, he’d gone back to wearing his normal work clothes, but this had proven to be a mistake. The first person to arrive had been one of the producers, who left his bags by the taxi, looked up at the castle, and asked ‘Is this it?’ before brushing past him, telling him to bring his bags to his room as he was going to ‘case the joint’.
Since then, Rory had dressed for the role, wearing a kilt at all times, white shirts and tweed jackets. The ensemble had the desired effect and made people feel more comfortable around him. He grumbled about ironing so many shirts, but secretly loved wearing the kilt as it was closer to his happiest state of dress – naked.
The first of the big stars to arrive was Valentina Valverde, a stunning Colombian actress whose career began as a child in a national soap before she got her break in English language films. She bounded out of her taxi, her dark eyes sparkling, and came forward to meet Zoe and Rory with an outstretched hand and infectious smile. ‘Hey, you must be Zoe and Lord Kinloch. I’m Valentina, nice to meet you.’
Zoe immediately warmed to her. Even Rory allowed himself to relax and chat as he took her bags.
They were turning to go in, when another taxi arrived. The man who got out was almost as tall as Rory, with closely cropped chestnut hair, green eyes and a jaw you could chisel stone with. Rory strode over, and the two men exchanged a hug that would have broken the spines of lesser mortals. When they pulled away, Rory introduced them. ‘Charlie, this is Zoe, my fia-girlfriend. Zoe, this is Charlie, who holds rich people’s shopping for a living.’
‘Lovely to meet you, Charlie, and I know you do much more than that.’
Charlie gave her a dazzling smile and Rory punched him on the arm. ‘Back off. And this is Valentina, one of the stars of the film,’ he continued, steering his friend away from Zoe.
Charlie took Valentina’s hand. ‘You were on my plane.’ He held on a few seconds longer than he should.
‘I thought you were onmyplane,’ she replied, her voice low and smoky, running her fingers through her long black hair. ‘And what are you doing here? Are you the muscle?’
‘I’m the brains and the muscle.’
They stared at each other. Rory punched his friend on the arm again breaking their connection. ‘I’m the brains and the muscle, arsehole, you’re just the house-sitter.’
Charlie laughed. ‘Too slow with your comeback, mate, I think you just proved my point.’
‘Right,’ said Zoe firmly. ‘That’s enough testosterone for one morning.’ She took Valentina’s bags off Rory. ‘You show Charlie where he’s staying, and try not to fight or have sex with each other. Come on, Valentina, I’ll show you to your room.’ She walked off. Valentina followed with a smirk, taking a rucksack from Zoe’s shoulder.
Zoe led Valentina to her room before showing her around the castle. Valentina was in awe, telling her she’d never seen anything quite like it, and thanking her profusely for letting her stay. By the time their tour was finished, Zoe couldn’t help blurting out, ‘You aren’t what I expected a Hollywood star to be like. You’re not like Brad.’
Valentina threw her head back and gave a deep throaty laugh. ‘If I was like him my entire family would put me in my place so fast I wouldn’t be able to blink. The people here aren’t what I expected either. I thought the earl would have a stick up his ass.’
‘Oh, he did. But I made him have an operation to have it removed before you got here.’
If Valentina was an unexpected surprise,so too was Kirsten. That afternoon Crystal had run to find Zoe to tell her Kirsten was on her way with her assistant and ‘His Holiness’ Vladyka Mirov. Zoe and Rory made their way to the front of the castle and stood in the cold as a black limo eased its way into the courtyard. The driver got out, opened the doors and went to the boot for the luggage.
The first person to exit was a small, harried-looking young woman. Her mousey-brown hair was tied back in a scrunchie, and she was stashing a notebook into a large bag. This was presumably Kirsten’s assistant. She gave Zoe and Rory a nervous nod then stood by the car. A small hand emerged and placed itself in hers, followed by an even smaller person, lost in the swathes of a black puffa coat that grazed the cobbles. The hood of the coat was pulled over her head, the fake fur trim highlighting an elfin face, partially covered by a huge pair of sunglasses.
A man as tall as Rory unfolded himself from the other side of the car and walked around to stand next to the women. Where Rory was broad, this man was very thin, and dressed in a long black cassock, over which was another, floor-length black coat and a black canvas bag slung across his shoulder. His face was gaunt and his cheeks pale, but his eyes were dark and knowing. He was balding, and what hair he did have was grown as long as possible, and scraped back into a frizzy black ponytail. What he lacked on the top of his head he made up for with his beard, a long, straggly affair, encircled with silver rings that ended in the middle of his chest. He assessed his surroundings as if sizing up a new territory to be conquered.
Kirsten Bjorkstrom and His Holiness Vladyka Mirov had arrived.
Rory and Zoe walked down the steps towards them.
‘Welcome to Kinloch Castle, I’m Zoe and this is Lord Kinloch,’ she said brightly.
Kirsten held out her hand and Zoe took it. It was like crushing a bag of cold jelly. Kirsten looked at Zoe, pushing her sunglasses up, a tiny frown puckering her nose and the bits of her that hadn’t succumbed to Botox.
‘You’re Zoe?’ she said in a small, disbelieving voice. ‘But you’re so...’ She hesitated. ‘Big.’
