“Well here we are again.”

Justin gave a soft snort. “I’m starting to think they’re doing this to mess with us.”

Millie’s prediction was accurate. The set was both damper and colder. Justin was alright, since he was in his bad guy outfit complete with long black coat. She was still in the distressed white gown with bare arms. Her teeth wanted to chatter and it was an effort to stop them. The small mercy was that whenever her feet weren’t in shot she was allowed to put shoes back on.

Once again the two of them were forced to hold an awkward position while camera angles were checked. Justin didn’t understand why it was still necessary after the last half hour with their stand-ins, but it had to be done. He was standing behind her, arms possessively around her waist while she tilted sideways. There was something of the vampire and his soon-to-be victim about the shot. Justin was overly conscious of that given the comment about people touching her neck.

The pose wouldn’t have been so bad if they weren’t standing on top of a rock. It was uneven and slippery. The slight burn in his thighs told him how hard his muscles were working to keep them stabilised. Thankfully Millie seemed to have enough core strength to keep her weight off of him; otherwise he’d have been a goner.

“Wish the wind would die down,” she commented. “My face is stinging so much.”

“You can go get some more of Beth’s magic cream and it’ll be fine.”

“Wonder cream,” she corrected with a laugh. “Get it right.”

“If it was that wondrous she’d be off making her stack with it, not stuck with the impossible task of making me look pretty.”

Justin was only kidding, but he didn’t miss the hint of frustration that passed over her. It was a shadow that moved in the muscles of her face. He thought she was taking the teasing badly, until she spoke and he realised that wasn’t what needled her.

“Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“To make me look pretty? What, like if I stand next to you I can bask in reflected glory? Thanks for trying but it’s a lost cause.”

If their situation wasn’t so precarious she would have elbowed him. “Ha. If I could get that product on the market I would, I really would.”

“So do it.” He shrugged.

“Uhh, hello? What did I just say?” She joked.

“Do you mean really tried, like with a business plan tried, or just mentioned it and she probably thought it was only the small talk people make and don’t mean?”

Her expression and her eyes went blank. It was impossible to know whether he’d offended her or if she was simply thinking. It was disconcerting.

“I mean… I know you said last night modelling wasn’t your end game, so if working on something like that with Beth would suit you better then why not? You’d have a ton of things you could expand into from that. Or heck, even if she wouldn’t I bet a bunch of companies would be happy to look at a line with your name on it. You should think about it, I bet you’d be good at it.”

There was no way to know if she’d ever have responded to him, since the director picked that moment to pronounce them ready to roll. Justin wouldn’t have put money on it.

**

Millie

Oh today has been strange.

I felt awkward with Justin. No wonder - last night he heard more about my problems than most people would in a year. I don’t know why. He was there, I suppose. Maybe the human body simply won’t allow you to hold in what needs to come out? My embarrassment manifested itself in more nervousness during the ridiculous amount of love scenes we filmed today. Every time he had to touch me I felt pins and needles. It was excruciating.

That was another problem – the ridiculous amount of scenes to film. To make up for lost time we went double speed (especially once we hit the evening where lighting is time sensitive). Now I’m bloody knackered.

Then during our between takes chit chat he managed to chastise me for not pressing my suit with Beth. He wasn’t ticking me off or anything. He was trying to be helpful - and he was helpful - but I guess the truth packs a punch. It was irritating how on the money he was. I told him so little yet he had my number. He’s right. I haven’t persevered enough to convince her I’m serious.

Though speaking of having my number, how did he? We haven’t spoken about my ambitions but he hit dead on. Telling me to go for it. Telling me I’d be good at it. In a world where people I work with day in and day out quite literally don’t see anything beyond the surface (you wouldn’t believe the conversations people will have about my body like I’m not even in the room), a complete stranger hits the nail right on the head. Even reckons I’ve got the ability to do it. That knocked me for six and again made me more nervous around him.

Next there was the phone call. I haven’t heard from anybody who has anything to do with my father for years. Lizzie calls me at breaking point and now his lawyers want to schedule a conference call?

The timing makes me suspicious. I told them they could contact my own lawyers to set something up and did my best to sound bored. In reality my heart was going like a bloody 808.

Is this another head game? I wouldn’t put it past him. At heart he’s a great big bully and I doubt he’s ever been happy that I removed myself from his control. It probably eats him up that I’ve done well. I bet he expected me to go crawling back with my tail between my legs. Sad that a stranger like Justin has more faith in my ability to handle myself than my own parent...

God, I really do hate him. I hate that I do, because I don’t think it’s good for anyone to harbour so much resentment, but I’ve never managed to achieve healthy distance. I actively hate him.

He’s impossible to live with. I got chucked out on my ear because I stood up to him one too many times, and Lizzie’s starting to go the same way. You can even see it in the way he forbade her to have any contact. He expects that I should be dead to her because I’m dead to him. That’s all that counts in his eyes. He didn’t give a stuff that I’d practically raised her or that she didn’t need to lose anyone else after Mum. He didn’t stop to think of it in terms of who I was to her and how that would affect her. Then he shipped her off to boarding school where he didn’t have to bother with her except when it suited him to preen and boast. Like I blurted out to Justin in the room last night, he doesn’t care about us except in terms of how we affect him. We aren’t people to him; we’re extensions of his ego. Why should Lizzie need me when he doesn’t?

The sad thing was I never used to know any better. I used to think it was me. Far too many of my boyfriends have been like him. It’s something of a miracle that I have anything to do with men at all these days, given my appalling luck with them.

(In fact, maybe Felicity has it right. Keep a few around for fun when you want them and feel no compunction about getting rid when you’re bored.)

Well, on the bright side we’re wrapped. It’s late as all hell and I am going to flop straight down into bed, but I actually have a whole day off tomorrow and one more night in the hotel until I have to jet off for my next assignment. I’m thinking that I’m going to go into their spa facilities and have a facial and hair treatment. Try and mend some of the damage all that cold and wind did to me today.

Then I am going to sit down on my arse and do absolutely nothing, all damn day long. Yes. That’ll be good. Me, myself and I should have some uninterrupted recharge time.

**

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

The semi-frown on Millie’s face lifted as she looked through the open door to see Justin waiting to step into the elevator. She didn’t smile, but her forehead relaxed and the lines smoothed out.

“This is the place to be apparently.”

Though she was on her own, Justin was flanked by a tall bodyguard. She didn’t blame him. Paparazzi and fans were doing their level best to crawl all over the place. The hotel was gamely trying to keep them out but there were too many of them (and some were quite creative). Millie’s peaceful day at the spa was less peaceful than anticipated as it was full to capacity with spontaneous bookings. Maybe people wanted to relax – or maybe they wanted to be able to flash their passes so security couldn’t ask them to stop hanging around. It seemed the price of a facial or a gym pass was a negligible one to gawp at the rich and famous. The owners would be happy; the day’s takings must have been fantastic.

The small mercy was that the elevators would not go up to their floor without a key card. At least they would have some privacy up there. She assumed that was why the bodyguard didn’t step in after Justin – he was of more use deterring people downstairs. The doors closed and they began the slow climb up. It was several floors.

“So how many selfies have you had to take?” He asked.

“None,” she said. “They ban phones in the spa. You?”

That explained her attire. She was in loose black pants and a white sports vest, an expanse of porcelain stomach on show. You might expect it to be tanned, but her pale complexion seemed to be her thing.

“Dozen at least.” His nose twitched, as if his face was trying not to sneer.

It wasn’t that he was unappreciative of his fans. It was a problem when you were trying to get somewhere. Some people weren’t very respectful in the way they asked, either. The delay also forced him to suffer the camera flashes longer; it gave the paparazzi more time to get their pictures. For five straight minutes afterwards he’d been seeing spots. It was amazing that his retinas weren’t shot after all these years.

Millie didn’t fail to notice his exasperation. It wasn’t that he was being abrupt or unfriendly to her. It was the way his body language remained closed off, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his bulky black coat and his shoulders hunched.

“Oh well. Did you at least have fun while you were out?” That was the best she could manage to try and steer him to a nicer topic.

“Not that kind of trip,” he said as he leaned against the mirrored wall. “Had some errands to run before I fly out tomorrow morning.”

The original plan was to head out for dinner, maybe hit a bar for a few drinks. It was thwarted by the number of people following him around.

“I’m off then as well. Was trying to get some chill time beforehand but people had other ideas.” Her blue eyes couldn’t help rolling. She hated being made to feel like a zoo exhibit. “Home or more work?”

“Home for a couple of days. You?”

“Assignment in NYC.”

“Oh, cool. Sorry they wrecked your spa day; think most of them are here because I was dumb enough to post a picture on Instagram last night.”

“Oh really?”

“Didn’t even say where it was. The untapped detective skills on the internet are amazing.”

At least that elicited a chuckle. “You’re telling me. I’ve learned not to post until two days after I’ve done something.”

“So I can expect to read all about it on Thursday?”

There was another one. “My thrilling adventures in yoga and facial scrubs will enthral you.”

This time it was his turn to chuckle – though it was so muted it came out as ‘hmm.’ “You’re so English, the way you say shit.”

“What else did you expect me to be? Swiss?”

“Haha.”

“Well hey, at least we’re now safe from the hordes,” she said as the elevator pinged its welcome to their floor. Privacy was expensive but worth it.

“Safe but penned in.”

Her head tilted sideways to look at him as they stepped out. There was that irritability again. That was interesting. He’d been so laid back in all their previous dealings - focused and professional, but at ease. This was different.

“I’m such a hermit anyway makes no matter.”

“Nah, I get twitchy if I sit still too long.”

On any other occasion Millie would brush this off. This was a bare acquaintance, not a friend, and she’d already had her much needed recharge time derailed. She was a classic introvert; she needed room to uncoil or she would get wound up far too tight. All the same she felt bad for him. He struck her as the kind of person who needed companions as much as she needed space. First there was the way he’d invited himself in last night. Now there was his obvious frustration at being forced to stay in by the crowd.

Normally she wouldn’t view that as her problem. This time her conscience tugged at her. Would it kill her to give him a couple of hours when he’d been so nice and considerate of her during the shoot? Every time someone tried to choreograph anything that got near her neck he deftly directed them the other way. She appreciated his discretion. He’d gone out of his way to safeguard her comfort and even given her some great advice. Maybe this was her opportunity to pay him back.

Besides, she’d still have plenty of time for a nice long bubble bath after he left.

“Well since we’re stuck in, do you fancy dinner?” She asked. “I don’t think I’ve taken advantage of my expenses enough this trip, room service should fix that. Wouldn’t mind some company.”

“Sure, sounds good.” He tried not to sound too pathetic in his gratitude. “I’ll drop by in forty minutes or so?”

“Great.”