Theo smiled, looking genuinely charmed at the information. ‘I did not know that. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she replied, suddenly awkwardly aware that she was basically lecturing her lunch date on British history.
Well, it wasn’t as if she had much else in the way of small talk, was it? That was always the problem with her dates, or interactions with people outside the history department. She bored them quickly. Hell, sometimes she even bored herself. She wished that she could just let things go, not feel she had to correct people all the time. But it was as if there were an itch inside her, whenever things were factually lacking. And the only way to scratch it was to present the true facts.
No wonder it had been so long since she’d had an actual date.
The rest of the meal passed pleasantly enough. The waiter brought their meals, which were fine, although Theo questioned her choice of the chicken Caesar salad in the depths of winter.
She shrugged. ‘The waiter said it was their most popular dish.’ She always ordered the most popular dish. She knew nothing about food, really, and, beyond it being the fuel her body needed to keep functioning, she’d never really thought about it much. So it seemed much more sensible to her to let the consensus of others decide what she should eat.
Theo obviously didn’t agree. ‘What if the most popular dish was something you didn’t like?’
‘Then I’d order the second most popular dish. Obviously.’
It was only by the time they’d reached dessert—which she’d declined in favour of coffee, as had Theo—that she got the feeling that there was more to this meal than just a simple apology.
‘I have to admit, I had a secondary reason for inviting you to lunch today,’ Theo said, as he toyed with the foil wrapper of the mint that came with his coffee.
Wow. Her intuition was actually correct, for once. Delayed, of course, but right. That didn’t happen often. At least, not with people she didn’t know. Damon and Rachel she could read in an instant—she’d been studying them both for years. She’d learned them, the same way she learned everything else. Strangers, not so much.
‘I suspected as much,’ she said.
Theo smiled. ‘I imagined you would. You’re an intelligent woman.’
She liked the way he said that. She shouldn’t, because she was sure he was just buttering her up for the next part. But when Theo said, ‘You’re an intelligent woman,’ she didn’t hear it as an insult. He wasn’t saying: ‘You have brains, why can’t you understand people?’ Or: ‘You’re smart, but don’t think you’re smarter than me.’ Or even: ‘You’re intelligent, why won’t you just agree with me, when I’m obviously right?’
He was just saying that she was intelligent, and that it was a good thing.
She liked that.
‘So? Why am I here?’ Celeste asked.
Theo drew in a breath, then looked up and met her gaze with his own. She made herself hold it, look for the truth, even though she wanted to look away with every fibre of her being. She didn’t look people in the eye like this, not unless she had a point she needed to hammer home and wanted to be sure they had it.
But now she was just...listening. And looking for the truth in Theo’s eyes.
‘Because the show that aired last night was edited to show me in a bad light. I don’t know why, or by who. And I need you to believe that I didn’t intend to dismiss you or disregard the points you were making about historical accuracy.’
‘Why?’ That was the part she didn’t understand. Why did he care what she thought?
‘Because I’m going to need your help to fix it.’
CHAPTER FOUR
CELESTE DREW BACK a little at that. ‘What do you need me to do?’
‘Exactly what you are doing,’ Theo replied, as reassuringly as he could. ‘Just being seen with me today, showing that you don’t actually hate me, that will help.’
She looked around her. ‘You mean, you’ve got someone here to photograph us together? This was all a trick to get me to pretend to like you?’
Ow. ‘I was kind of hoping that if we had lunch together you would actually like me. Most people do, you know.’
‘I’m not most people.’ As if he didn’t know that. ‘So, where is he? The photographer, I mean? I haven’t seen anyone taking photos of us. Does he have one of those long lenses?’
‘I didn’t hire a paparazzi with a tele-focus lens,’ Theo said patiently. ‘I didn’t hire anybody. I didn’t need to.’
Celeste’s eyes narrowed. ‘Explain.’
‘Celeste, people have been taking photos of us on their phones since the moment you walked in. They’ve been talking about us, while we’ve been sitting here eating. There’s hardly a table in this restaurant where at least one person hasn’t turned to watch us, to try to listen to what we’re saying.’ He was used to it, after years in the TV spotlight. Normally when he dined with someone from outside the industry they found it distracting, disturbing to be watched all the time.
But Celeste hadn’t noticed it at all.
‘Why? Because you’re so damn famous and popular?’ She was glancing around now, furtively, obviously trying to catch someone with their phone out. It was kind of almost cute—if anything about Celeste Hunter could be called cute.
And she obviously didn’t realise how unpopular he was right now. He supposed she didn’t really follow celebrity gossip online.
‘Because our faces were all over their social media feeds this morning,’ he said, with a sigh. ‘Because if other people are talking about us, they want to be able to talk about us, too. And if they can say something new, something their friends haven’t heard yet, all the better.’
‘So this morning the story was that we were mortal enemies after a stupid quiz show,’ Celeste said slowly. ‘And you’re trying to change that narrative. Show people that actually we’re friends.’
‘Exactly.’ He’d known she’d get it, once she got past the part where people she’d never met cared about her life. As he’d said, she was an intelligent woman.
‘I probably shouldn’t tip my cup of coffee into your lap for manipulating me into lunch, then, should I?’ she asked sweetly.
Theo winced. ‘Ideally not, no. And I didn’t intend to manipulate you. I kind of thought it would be obvious.’
‘Yeah, well. You might have noticed I’m not entirely up to speed on things that happen outside my field of expertise.’
It was the first admission of anything approaching a fault or weakness that she’d given, and it made Theo like her all the more.
That was the strangest part about this lunch, he realised. He was actually enjoying it. Even when they were bickering or she was threatening his lap with coffee, he was having fun.
Huh. He really hadn’t expected that.
‘So, what do you say?’ he asked. ‘Do you want to pretend to be my friend and help rehabilitate my reputation, so the Great British Public can stop calling me a patronising, mansplaining bastard?’ Amongst all the things they’d already been saying about him before, about him being a careless, unfeeling abandoner of women.
She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘You realise there’s also a cohort of your defenders calling me an uppity bitch who thinks she knows better than everyone?’
‘Yeah, but you do know better than everyone—when it comes to history anyway.’
‘Not everyone. Just most people.’
‘And you’re not an uppity bitch. In fact, I think I might actually like you if you’ll let me get to know you.’ She looked surprised at that, and he laughed. ‘Yeah. I wasn’t expecting that, either.’
Although he had been—until he’d met her. When she was just a voice on the radio, he’d thought he would like to get to know her. He’d been drawn to the passion in her voice when she’d talked about subjects she cared about—that he cared about, too. So yea
h, he’d wanted to get to know her. He just hadn’t expected it to be under these circumstances.
‘Maybe we can prove them all wrong, then,’ she said slowly. ‘Or at least teach them not to judge people or their motives on first appearances.’
Theo rather thought she was crediting them with too much power over social media in general, and the Great British Public in particular. But if that was what it took to get her to agree...
‘I say we could give it a damn good go.’
Celeste looked up at him and smiled. ‘Then it’s a deal.’
She stood up, holding out a hand for him to shake, and the movement jogged the table. The tablecloth caught between her and the surface, twisting as she moved, tugging it up, off balance and...
Tipping Theo’s coffee right into his lap.
A gasp went up through the restaurant, and Theo heard the click of a dozen fake camera shutters on phones.
He looked up to find Celeste with one hand over her mouth, looking as though she was trying to stop herself from laughing.
‘At least it wasn’t my coffee,’ she said as she handed him her napkin.
‘That makes it all better,’ Theo grumbled.
Apparently, making people believe they were actually friends was going to be even harder than he’d anticipated.
* * *
It looked like Theo and Celeste were a story that wasn’t going away.
On Sunday morning, Celeste woke up to a lot of social media notifications, and a sense of impending doom. The doom part was easy enough to fathom—it was the first Sunday of the month, which meant it was Hunter family dinner day. Which was cause enough for doomy feelings in itself, but made worse by the fact that she wasn’t properly prepared for it.
It wasn’t enough for her parents to get the four of them around the dining table once a month for a nice catch-up and a roast. Diana and Jacob Hunter had to make it a competition. One with themes and decorations and complex menus—and one that Celeste always tried hard at but seldom ever won.
She definitely wasn’t going to win anything today, having spent all her prep time yesterday either having lunch with Theo or on the phone with Rachel, who’d sounded very peculiar when she’d called. Celeste might not be the best at reading people normally, but Rachel she understood. They’d been best friends since university and she was, as Damon put it, Celeste’s social proof that she could actually manage human interaction outside the lecture theatre.
She had a strong suspicion that her brother might be behind her best friend’s strange mood. Damon, unlike her, was excellent with people—all people. Often too excellent. Women, in particular, tended to fall fast and hard for him—only to be heartbroken when he let them down, however gently he tried to do it.
Rachel had known Damon for almost a decade, so Celeste had hoped she was immune. But after her disappearance from the TV studios, plus that call last night... Celeste was starting to have suspicions.
Which were definitely still on her mind as she went shopping for ingredients for an emergency starter she could whip up in a hurry in time for lunch. Salmon, perhaps. Damon hated salmon.
Queueing at the supermarket checkout, she scrolled through the notifications on her phone. Gone were the usual links to journals or news items about archaeological digs she had come to expect. Instead, there were at least four different photo angles of Theo getting covered in coffee, plus a few other shots of them just eating lunch together. Opinion seemed to be divided over whether they were arguing or having a nice time.
Both. Which she supposed was why people were so confused. It was baffling the hell out of her.
Normally, when she argued with a person, they got annoyed and left her alone. But Theo seemed to want to spend more time together. Which was definitely not normal.
It’s only because he’s trying to save face, improve his image, that sort of thing.
She needed to keep reminding herself of that. He was a faker, and he’d fake liking her for as long as it served his purpose—then drop her. In some ways, Theo was like Damon—too charming for his own good. Luckily Celeste, unlike Rachel, was immune to that sort of charm.
And it wasn’t only Theo’s career and image that stood to gain from this association, it turned out. Richard was thrilled that their continued association was only drawing more attention to her—and increasing the odds of the production company they were talking to taking a chance on her. As a cloistered academic, she knew he’d been at a bit of a loss on how to market her—especially since her love of reading social media didn’t extend to remembering to post regularly, or even having any idea what to post. Rachel kept offering her tips. Maybe she should just hire her best friend to pretend to be her on social media. She had no doubt that people would like her better if she wasn’t, well, actually her.
‘Excuse me. Are you... Oh, what’s your name? The one from that quiz show. The Christmas Cracker one.’ The woman behind her in the queue, gripping a TV listing magazine with Theo Montgomery on the front, smiled up at Celeste.
‘The Christmas Cracker Cranium Quiz? Yes, that was me.’ Celeste waited to see if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
The woman’s beaming smile grew wider. ‘I thought it was you! I said to my husband—where’s he gone? Fred? Honestly, men. Anyway, I said it was you!’
‘And it is, actually, me,’ Celeste confirmed, just in case that had got missed somehow.
‘Can you sign my magazine for me?’ The woman brandished a pen towards Celeste, and she took it, mostly because she was at a loss as to what else to do with it. As she signed her name just to the left of Theo’s sharp cheekbone, the woman kept talking. ‘I love Theo Montgomery as much as anybody, and I never really believed all that rubbish his ex put about, but, I have to say, it was quite nice to see him put in his place for once! He always has all the answers, doesn’t he? Such a charmer. My Fred says he’s too smooth, but, really, what would we watch if he wasn’t on? He hosts all the best shows these days, doesn’t he?’
‘I suppose he does.’ Celeste handed the signed magazine back.
‘And he is lovely, don’t you think?’ the woman said wistfully.
‘I’m sure I wouldn’t know.’ Celeste turned away, relieved to see it was her turn at the checkout at last.
All this thinking about Theo Montgomery couldn’t possibly be good for her.
* * *
She managed to forget about him, more or less, over lunch with the family.
The Hunter Family Monthly Lunch was, as most things were in her family, deeply competitive. Each month, she, her mother and her father were assigned a course of the meal to prepare and serve. Whoever was in charge of starters was also in charge of decorating the dining room in a suitable historical theme. Damon was only ever in charge of bringing the wine, because he refused to compete.
The aim of the dinner was to produce the most interesting dish. Not necessarily the most delicious—Celeste had once won almost a full score from everyone for an authentic Greek dish with a great historical backstory that had unfortunately tasted like rotten fish. Mostly because it almost was rotten fish.
On that basis, she knew she’d have failed today. The only saving grace her salmon terrine possessed was that it would annoy her brother, and her decorations were decidedly sub-par.
And sadly, none of that distracted her mother from more important matters at hand.
‘I saw some of that festive TV show you were associated with, Celeste,’ Diana said, her frown disapproving over the fluttering of her authentic replica regency fan, to match her dress. The Hunters always believed in dressing for dinner, even if they weren’t always from the same era.
‘Uh...really? Where did you see that?’ Stalling for time, Celeste reached across the table for the wine bottle and refilled her mother’s glass, as well as her own. At least her father was out of the room, fetching his main course from the kitchen
. She’d hoped against hope that her parents’ TV ban would mean they’d have missed the whole debacle, but apparently she wasn’t that lucky.
‘A colleague sent me a web link to a clip from it.’ Diana’s fan fluttered a little faster. Across the table, a wicked smile spread over Damon’s face.
Celeste knew exactly what he was thinking. Discovering that Celeste was taking part in a lowbrow, populist TV quiz was one thing. Being told so by a colleague was far worse, because that meant that Other People knew. People that mattered to their parents.
She wondered who had sent it to them. Someone who thought it was a bit of festive fun? Or a colleague with a grudge? It didn’t really matter which, she supposed. The Professors Hunter didn’t do fun—at least, not when it came to things that mattered, like history or archaeology, their respective specialist subjects.
‘Um, which part?’ Celeste asked, desperately hoping that the clip would be one of the tamer ones she’d seen around the Internet. Maybe the introductions, or something.
‘You, arguing with some gameshow host about how Christmas trees came to be a British tradition.’
So, not a nice tame bit. That was the part that had the Internet most riled up. Of course.
Damon was apparently unable to hold his laughter in a moment longer.
‘That link is everywhere, Mum,’ he said as Celeste glared at him. ‘Have you seen what they’re saying about it on Twitter?’ He leaned across the table towards Celeste. ‘Did you really have a make-up lunch with Theo yesterday? The whole of social media is aflame, wondering what’s going on between you two.’
Celeste felt the heat flood to her cheeks as she remembered the lunch—and how it had ended. Then she remembered why she was cross with Damon in the first place, and turned the tables.
A Midnight Kiss to Seal the Deal Page 5