Now I understood what all those miserable bloody love songs were talking about. The cliché about days seeming darker, empty, every second meaningless … it was all true. Cliché, for a reason. Without Aria, I felt exhausted by life. But if I didn’t want my career to go down the toilet along with our relationship, I needed to buck the fuck up.
“That’s a wrap for today!” Blake called out. “See you back here tomorrow morning at six a.m.!”
I left before anyone—costars, director, producer, writers—could stop me to talk. As I grabbed my gear and pulled out my phone, I saw I had a text from Theo. He was filming a TV show here in London.
At the Roebuck, if you fancy a drink.
The Victorian pub in Southwark was a ten-minute drive from my apartment on St. Katherine’s Docks and a favorite haunt of Theo’s. There were plenty of exclusive clubs in London that would welcome Theo Cavendish through their doors, but he seemed to eschew fashionable clubs. That’s why his membership at Ardnoch was so surprising. When I’d said as much, he’d replied, “No amount of celebrity contamination can mar the beauty of somewhere like Ardnoch.”
I tried not to be offended that he considered me celebrity contamination.
I quickly typed a reply, Be there in an hour.
It would take me that long to get there from the studios. But I could do with a drink after the day I’d had.
When I walked into the Roebuck later that evening, I found Theo in the laid-back pub, legs outstretched, gesticulating with his hands as he told a story to two women he’d attracted. The thought of having to be sociable pissed me off, and I almost turned and left. But Theo looked up at that moment and nodded at me. He turned back to his companions and said something with that playboy smile that turned people into infatuated idiots.
Whatever it was, the women stood, grinning and waving at him as they crossed the bar to sit with another group.
Gratified by their departure, I slid into the seat opposite Theo. The pub was busy, the bar area packed with people. My friend was nursing a whisky.
“You look like shit,” he greeted me pleasantly.
“It hasn’t been the best day.”
“Tell me about it. Did you know the Roe is becoming a celebrity hangout?” He leaned forward in his seat. “Those girls were telling me Angeline Potter’s been in here this week. I’m telling you, that woman is stalking me.”
The British actor and rom-com sweetheart, whom I did a movie with back in the day, was a member of Ardnoch, and according to Aria, she spent a lot of time there. I’d been lucky enough to avoid her so far because once she got talking, it was difficult to get away. She was kind of self-involved.
“I didn’t know Angeline was interested in you.”
“Cornered me at the fucking estate last Christmas under the mistletoe. Never one to let a lady down, I obliged her with a grope.” He seemed to consider this. “Ah, actually, I think I went down on her in the restroom.”
I grimaced. “You think?”
“I was drunk. But it would explain why she keeps sliding into my DMs and stalking my favorite pubs. I am excellent at cunnilingus.”
I stood up abruptly. “I need a drink.”
Theo gave me a smug grin. “Don’t be jealous, old boy. Some of us are just gifted.”
I flipped him off and his laughter followed me to the bar. People had turned to stare as soon as I’d walked into the Roe, but as if used to the odd celebrity spotting, they’d returned to their conversations and food. However, they parted for me at the bar, giving me friendly smiles I returned. Usually, I didn’t like to take advantage of my well-known face, but I was hungry and in need of a drink, so I allowed them to skip the queue as the bartender came over for my order.
“Loved you in King’s Valley,” the bartender said as he poured me a pint.
“Thanks, mate. I appreciate it.”
“On the house.” He pushed the pint toward me.
I slid money along the bar as a generous tip. “That’s very kind, thanks.”
The bartender took the cash with a pleased gleam in his eyes. “Cool. We’ll bring your burger over when it’s ready.”
“Did you order food?” Theo asked as soon as I returned to him.
I nodded. “I’m starving.”
Theo considered me. “You do look like shit, mate. What happened?”
After taking a refreshing chug of beer, I explained the day’s woes to my friend.
He exhaled wearily when I was done. “I don’t even want to acknowledge it because you know I find romance tiresome, but has this got anything to do with the luscious Aria?”
“You know it fucking does,” I grumbled. “I’m a bloody coward who ran away from the first problem we encountered.”
“Her breaking it off is rather a big problem, though.”
I glowered at him. “I should have fought for her. Now I’m like the walking fucking wounded. I try to be Daniel, but I can’t stop thinking about her, so I’m always North.”
“Is it because you miss her or because you’re worried about her? There is a big difference.”
“I know you’d quite like it to be the latter,” I huffed. “But nothing has happened to either of us since the attack. Nothing came of it.” The plates on the Defender that tried to mow us over were false, so we couldn’t track the vehicle to the attacker. “There’s been no more letters. Everything has gone quiet.” I’d been checking in with Walker several times a week just to make sure. With no leads, there was no choice but to carry on with life as I knew it.
Life without her.
The pain in my chest flared, and I rubbed it absentmindedly as I took a sip of beer.
“How are the rest of the cast? Have they noticed you bungling it?”
“Blake has. We had a word. But everyone else is just going with it. Eden doesn’t join us until Berlin.” I referred to my costar and leading lady Eden Gabriel, a French actor who’d smashed international barriers to find global fame. We’d met months ago at a table reading and she’d flirted her arse off with me. I’d been seeing Cara at the time, so I wasn’t interested.
Now I feared I’d never be interested in any other woman ever again.
Aria Howard had fucking broken me.
Not that I’d admit that aloud. There were only so many hits I could take to my ego and masculinity.
“Ah, Eden Gabriel.” Theo swirled his drink. “She’s rather beautiful.”
“I’m not going there.”
“I’m not advising you to.” My friend leaned forward. “My number one rule is never fuck anybody on your film set. Costars, crew, no one. Too much money involved for the drama it invites. If the attraction is great, you can always fuck them once the film wraps.”
“Nice to know you have some principles,” I replied sarcastically.
“You are in a charming mood.” He grimaced. “Okay, I’m only saying this because I find you more tolerable than most people, but—fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this—have you considered a grand gesture to win your lady back?”
Surprised he was trying to give me romantic advice, I raised an eyebrow. “Grand gesture?”
“Yes. You said the reason you broke up with the delightful Ms. Howard is because she has trust issues. Why don’t you prove you trust her beyond any doubt? Perhaps in doing so, she’ll feel moved to reciprocate.”
Huh.
My mind raced as I considered his advice and what I could do that would break through Aria’s walls.
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