“Wait,” I find myself saying to Hugo. “You’re forgetting something.” I reach up, and peel off his gel patches, making sure to smile and bat my lashes at him a little.
“Thanks,” Hugo replies easily. “And thanks for the advice. Vibes. I’ll remember that.” He gives a wink, and heads off to wardrobe, while I peek to see Fraser’s reaction to my little flirt session.
He’s nowhere to be seen.
I deflate. Well, OK.
The irony of wanting to avoid him, but also being annoyed when he leaves me alone, isn’t lost on me. I obviously need to clear my head, and when I check my schedule, I find there’s nothing that needs my attention on set for the next couple of hours.
Perfect.
I decide to make like Lizzy Bennet and take a bracing stroll through the countryside, so after stopping by craft services to grab some snacks, I head out, leaving the main house behind as I follow a trail that winds up the hill, towards some pretty woodlands.
Ah…
I take a deep breath of country air, feeling better already, the further I get out into nature. It’s a glorious, blue-skied summer day, and the views over the nearby fields and hills are lush and quintessentially English, like a picture postcard. No wonder Austen heroines were always tramping through the fields when they needed an escape; with scenery like this, it’s an instant boost to my mood.
I follow the trail further, our base camp getting smaller behind me as I enjoy the grasses and wildflowers dotted all around. There are even some cows basking lazily in the next field, and I can’t resist whipping out my phone to snap some photos. I text them to Tessa.
See? It’s like Jane herself walked these hills!
A moment later, my FaceTime call sounds. It’s Tessa, on video from her back porch at the B&B. “Are you kidding me?” she asks. “Am I looking at a postcard right now? Or your actual life?”
I settle in, sitting on the ground against an old oak tree, and showing her the whole vista. “Isn’t it beautiful? Almost enough to make up for the ex that’s skulking around set, trying to humiliate me.”
“Fraser skulks?” Tessa asks. Of course, I filled her in with all the humiliating details last night in a stream-of-consciousness text thread that turned to an ALL-CAPS rant session. “I thought he was too tall and strapping to skulk.”
“Metaphorically!” I protest, and bring her up to date with the latest curt run-in. “I feel like I can’t go anywhere on set without finding him waiting around the next corner.” I sigh. “Tell me it’ll get easier, and this is just early shock that will wear off, leaving me utterly indifferent to his good looks and charm.”
“I mean, sure,” she replies, sounding dubious. “Whatever you think.”
“You’re supposed to be giving me the BFF pep talk,” I wail, and she laughs.
“I’m sorry, you’re right. All this awkwardness will be like the twenty-four-hour flu: Terrible, and then gone forever, leaving nothing but that utter indifference behind!”
“That’s more like it, thank you,” I say. “I don’t believe you for a second, but boy, wouldn’t it be nice?”
“I can’t believe he’s a corporate suit now,” Tessa says, munching on some delicious looking pie. “He was like the ultimate art-boy crush. All those gorgeous ink drawings he did for you? And those Polaroids you took, with him all soulful and moody…”
“Don’t remind me,” I say grimly. I couldn’t bring myself to burn them all.
“Maybe he got snatched by aliens back then, and it’s why he never called,” Tessa suggests. “They gave him a full lobotomy, and put him in the suit, and he never looked back.”
“That makes more sense than anything else,” I agree. “But of course, he still looks incredible. Tessa, it’s not fair for the man to still have this effect on me! My brain remembers what he did, but my body is like… Take me now.”
Tessa gives a sympathetic laugh. “Be strong,” she urges me. “And also, find out more about this Hugo guy, he could have potential.”
“You mean, the potential to make my life even more complicated?” I counter, as someone calls to her off-camera.
“I gotta go. Love you,” Tessa blows me a kiss, and hangs up.
I lower my phone, feeling marginally better. A good bestie pep talk can always turn things around, and it’s validating that she’s just as outraged by Fraser’s cool professionalism as I am.
Twenty-four-hour flu. Raging, gross, and devastating… and then, gone. Surely that’s what’s happening here?
The sound of a twig snapping makes me turn, and I blink. It’s Fraser, of course it is, standing about twenty feet away by the tree line, giving me an awkward wave.
“Don’t let me disturb you,” he says quickly. “I was just taking a walk. Clearing my head.”
Oh God. How long has he been standing there? Did he hear that last bit about his kryptonite-to-me hotness?
My cheeks burn. “Me too,” I yelp. “And then I had to FaceTime Tessa, to show her the view.”
“How is she these days?” he asks politely, like he actually cares about the BFF of a girl he dumped a decade ago.
“Fine,” I reply, just as polite.
“Good.”
There’s a pause, and I scramble inelegantly to my feet. “Well, I should be heading back,” I say, already backing away.
“Right. Me too. Goodbye.”
I set off the way I came, walking fast through the meadow. But soon enough, I hear footsteps behind me.
I turn, annoyed. “Are you following me?”
Fraser looks at me like I’m an idiot. “I can’t help it if we’re walking in the same direction. Do you need the whole field to yourself?”
“Can you at least stop brooding several paces behind me?” I ask.
“I’m hardly brooding,” he says, amusement tugging on the edge of his lips. “Besides, you couldn’t even see my expression.”
“I could hear your footsteps,” I mumble. “They were brooding footsteps.”
“Really? And how does that sound?”
I narrow my eyes. “I can’t describe it.”
Fraser smirks. “Since apparently, I can’t walk behind you, and I’m sure my footsteps would find some way to annoy you if I went ahead… Would it be the end of the world if we walked together?”
Yes.
“Not at all,” I reply, mustering my most perky, unaffected tone and a big fake smile. “Be my guest.”
He finally falls into step beside me, and I take a deep breath. The more stilted he is, the breezier I’m going to be, I decide. So breezy, I could damn well take flight. I wrack my brains for safe conversation. You know, aside from ‘how have you been since you ripped out my heart?’ “So…” I finally land on: “How is your family these days? Your siblings must be all grown up and out of the house by now.”
Fraser comes from a big family; he’s the eldest of four and would always tell me stories about the kids’ mischievous exploits.
“They’re… Good,” he replies slowly. “Older, for sure, although I wouldn’t say they’re grown up,” he adds with a brief smile. “Eddie’s married, two kids, if you’d believe it,” he continues. “Kyle trained as a sparkie. An electrician,” he translates. “Although he spends most of his time welding wild sculptures. And Kittie’s a hair stylist now, in a beauty salon in Inverness,” he continues. “And she designs clothes, too. Ridiculous punk-rock ripped things, that are apparently the height of fashion,” he adds, a fond note in his voice.