Page 8 of Musical Games
‘Och no, you’re a guest.’ She glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Tell you what though, you can be in charge of making sure the chef remains fully lubricated.’
Sam glanced at Fiona who grinned and opened the fridge door. It was filled with Prosecco.
‘Zoe said you were a fan, so we’re using you as an excuse to get pissed.’
Two hourslater Sam had completely forgotten the reason why she’d come to Scotland. She was happily drunk and revelling in being back with her best friend. She’d also fallen in love with Morag and Fiona and wanted nothing more than to be part of this family forever. The only thing needling at the edge of her happiness was unease about the imminent arrival of Jamie. It was one thing to watch him incessantly on her phone, quite another to be physically in the same space as him. Eventually she couldn’t hold the question in any longer.
‘What time does Jamie come back?’ she asked as casually as she could.
‘He’s on a very important mission,’ replied Morag, tapping the side of her nose.
Fiona rolled her eyes. ‘Kirsten Bjorkstrom can’t function without fresh guava, so Jamie’s gone two hours out of his way to track it down for her.’
Unwanted jealousy stabbed in the pit of her stomach. Kirsten was a thinner, blonder, prettier, more talented version of herself. Kirsten was starring in a multi-million-pound Hollywood blockbuster and had already won an Oscar, whereas Sam was a bit player in a TV soap. Did Jamie like Kirsten? Why else would he go so far out of his way for her? She caught Zoe staring at her and looked away.
‘Jamie’s doing the favour for Rory,’ said Zoe. ‘Kirsten’s the worst kind of princess. She keeps looking at Rory like she wants to eat him.’
‘You’re not like that, are you?’ slurred Fiona. ‘You seem waaaaaay too nice for any of that bollocks.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ replied Sam. ‘All my contracts stipulate I can’t perform without water made from angel tears and gluten-free toilet roll.’
The laughter was broken by Zoe yelling, ‘Jamie!’
A tall figure was standing behind the glass back door. He didn’t seem to want to come in. Fiona banged her fists on the table and they all joined in.
‘Jamie! Jamie!’ everyone chanted, as butterflies took off inside Sam’s tummy.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside as Fiona, Morag and Zoe cheered. He stared at the table, frowning. There were a few crumbs left from the cake, three empty bottles of Prosecco and a fourth halfway gone.
Sam took him in, her heart hammering.Fuck, fuck, fuck.Why was she having this reaction? He was so tall, his hair so dark, his jaw dusted with stubble.Eyes on the prize. She tried to remember she was here to bag a completely different dark and handsome stranger, not this one.
‘All hail the guava king!’ yelled Fiona, toasting him and spilling Prosecco over her hand.
‘Ma wee boy!’ cried Morag. ‘Meet Sam! She’s my new celebrity friend!’
Zoe staggered unsteadily to her feet. ‘Sit down. Take my seat. You need to meet Sam.’
Jamie seemed to be doing everything in his power to avoid acknowledging her presence. He stared at his feet and shuffled around the table towards the stairs.
‘I just need to jump in the shower,’ he mumbled.
Sam swallowed. His voice was so deep. Why wouldn’t he look at her?
Morag grabbed his arm and pulled him into her vacant chair. ‘Son! Sit down and have a drink. Whaddya want?’
‘I’ll have a coffee, thanks,’ he said quietly, his voice stilted. Sam could read body language. Hereallydidn’t want her here. Anger flared inside her. Morag and Fiona had accepted her with open arms. Couldn’t he at least try to make an effort?
‘Ooh!’ yelled Fiona, grabbing the jar of coffee and pushing it into Sam’s hands. ‘Do it! Do your advert!’
All the years of feeling small, inferior and overlooked scorched through her like a comet. She would make Jamie notice her. She leaned across the table towards him, squeezing her upper arms into the sides of her breasts, accentuating her cleavage. She gave him no choice but to either stare at her boobs or raise his head. He glanced up and for a second her heart stopped. Then it hardened at his blank expression. She stroked the jar of coffee.
‘Hey, Jamie,’ she purred. ‘I’m Sam.’ She paused. His eyes were so dark, she couldn’t tell where the pupils ended and the irises began. ‘If you’re looking for a deeper experience, there’s only one choice, one taste.’ She licked her lips and lowered her voice. ‘Look for the Connoisseur label and drink richly.’
Morag, Fiona and Zoe whooped with delight, and she stood, bowing for them. Jamie pushed back his chair with a screech, his face flushed. ‘Forget the coffee. I’m going for a shower.’
3
Jamie stomped up the narrow staircase, his head too hot and his clothes too tight. He pushed open the door of his room, threw off his jacket, then paused holding the bottom of his T-shirt. He was used to getting naked, then walking to the bathroom. Now he couldn’t. He rubbed over his jaw, his teeth grinding together. This was a nightmare. He had his routine. The familiarity and safety of the only home he’d ever known. The walls of this house were more impregnable to him than Rory’s castle, but were now under siege from a small pretty blonde woman.
