Page 42 of Kissing Games
He nodded slowly. The rest of his body was tense, primed, waiting.
‘This thing…’ She gestured between them. ‘It has no future. It’s just for now. For when we’re in Scotland. You and I could never work.’
She looked at his face, trying to read the emotions that flitted across it. Shit, she was drunk. Was he sad? Relieved? Indifferent? His face was a mask.
‘Of course. As a wannabe teenager, it’s your job to have a fling with someone completely inappropriate. I’m the last person you would want to be with.’ He took a drink without looking at it and knocked it back in one.
She smiled as if happy, but inside there was a yawning chasm of disappointment. Why did the truth hurt so much? Now veering from happy drunk to miserable drunk, she needed to snap out of it. She brought out her phone, turned the camera on and passed it to him.
‘Would you take some photos of me for my sister? We have this thing, just between us. I send her the worst pictures of me I can to make her laugh. It’s like an antidote to all the bullshit of my job.’ He grinned at her, and her heart told her it was genuine.
‘Yeah, sure.’ He lifted up the phone. ‘Knock yourself out.’
She picked up two of the glasses, put them either side of her face and went cross-eyed.
He laughed. ‘That’s awesome.’
The sound of his laughter was like sunshine, pulling her mood out from behind the clouds. She pulled another face, and another, every laugh from Charlie spurring her on. She lifted the two pint glasses of dark ale and held them in front of her breasts, sucking her cheeks in and raising her eyebrows.
He pulled a face. ‘Woah, hang on. How am I meant to hold the phone still when you’re doing that?’
She giggled, put the pints down and picked up a shot glass of something yellow.
‘Advocaat. Alcoholic custard,’ he explained.
She nestled it between her breasts and stuck out her tongue, as if trying to reach the glass.
‘Fuck’s sake, Valentina. You’re killing me here,’ he muttered.
She looked at him, took her finger and dipped it in the drink. He kept the camera still, but his lips were parted, his eyes glued to her hand. She raised her finger up slowly, then stuck it up her nose, a look of surprise on her face. He took the picture, then they both dissolved in hysterics. She downed the drink, pulled out the handkerchief he’d given her earlier and blew her nose.
He held the phone out. ‘See if they’re any good.’
She stared at the screen, joy filling her. ‘These are absolutely awful. They’re perfect and she’ll love them. Thank you, Charlie.’
He smiled and shifted in his seat. ‘They’re not awful. They’re funny. You’re beautifulandfunny. You should be doing comedy. You should post these on Instagram.’
A lurching sickness rolled through her and she put the phone down. ‘Are you crazy? If these got out no one would take me seriously. It could kill my career.’
‘Why?’ He looked confused.
‘I only get offered one role. I’m the sexy girl who ends up dead in the first act.Braveheart 2is the first film where I almost get to the end before being killed. I know my limits and have to work within them before I’m too old.’
He shook his head. ‘It can’t be that simple.’
‘It is. I’ve been doing this for nearly twenty years. It’s ninety-nine per cent bullshit and one hundred per cent misogyny. Do you really think I would be sitting here now if I didn’t look like this?’
‘Maybe, but there are millions of beautiful people out there who can’t act. You’ve got something they don’t.’
‘That’s not true. My career is based on looks, being at the right place at the right time and never saying no to a job. A good work ethic and reading people are the only talents I have.’
‘I don’t believe that for a second. Don’t you want to do something different?’
‘Of course, I do. The film I’m doing after this is a small art house one. A chance to try something different. But I have to be pragmatic. I also have a cosmetics contract I’m about to sign. I can’t risk that by having photos like this in the public domain.’
Charlie lifted up two glasses of fizzing pink liquid and handed one to her. ‘Let’s drink to that then. Pimm’s and lemonade. Meant to be drunk in the summer with a slice of cucumber.’
They clinked glasses and she tried to ignore the thoughts and feelings fighting for her attention.
