by Sandy Barker
She loved seeing two of her closest friends together—Jules, the anti-love poster child, and lovely Matt, who deserved far better than that lying cow of a woman, Kirsten. It wasn’t that she and Ash had conspired as much as hoped that Jules and Matt would like each other. And they did and they are in love and yay, yay, yay.
“You okay, there, Chlo?” asked Jules, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Yep.” She blinked deliberately and fluttered her eyelashes—her I’m-so-innocent look.
Jules plonked down on the couch next to her. “What?”
“Nothing. Just that you guys are sweet together. It’s nice.”
Jules rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, it’s still early days yet. We’re a long way from ‘I love you’, just so we’re clear.”
“Why do you have to do that?”
“Do what?”
“Pretend it’s all just …” She waved her hand in the air and looked to Lucy for backup. A little help, here, Luce, she pleaded with her eyes.
“I think what Chloe’s saying is that we’re happy for you.” Not quite, Lucy.
“Good, ’cause I’m happy for me too,” replied Jules.
“So why play it down?” demanded Chloe.
“I’m not!” Jules hissed, “Geez.” Jules glanced furtively at the doorway.
“Sorry,” Chloe whispered. “Look, the guys are going out. Maybe we should wait ’til they’ve gone to talk properly.”
Jules groaned out a sigh. “Why do we have to talk everything to death?”
“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t do that. And besides, I still haven’t told Lucy my news yet.”
“Oooh, that’s right,” said Lucy, her anticipation obvious.
Will stuck his head around the doorway. “Hey, we’re heading out. Wanna come see us off?”
“I’m not going outside,” said Chloe. Her hands were only just starting to return to their normal colour. “Will a goodbye from the door do?”
Will grinned at her. “Sure.” He jerked his head. “Come on.”
They sent the guys off on their outing—Will mentioned they’d only be gone a couple of hours—as though they were about to climb Everest or something. They’re only going outside to play in the snow! Chloe thought.
*
The door had been closed approximately three seconds before Lucy blurted out. “Right, Chloe, your news—now.” She marched off towards the living room and when she turned to see that Jules and Chloe were both standing still and staring at her, seemingly dumbstruck, she added, “Well, come on!”
Lucy perched on one end of the sofa and watched the doorway expectantly. It didn’t take long before her best friends joined her, their expressions still bearing the stamp of surprise.
“So, Luce, this is new,” said Jules.
Lucy lifted her chin. “I’m being more assertive and asking for what I want.” Her bravado slipped a little and she nibbled on a thumb nail.
“I like it,” declared Chloe. “It looks good on you.” Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Don’t worry, it’s only because I know you so well. And, hey, you can practise on us.” Chloe looked at Jules, as if for agreement.
“Oh, yeah, whenever we’re being massive pains in the ass, feel free to rein us in.”
“You mean like when you bicker all the time?”
Chloe and Jules shared a guilty look and burst out laughing. “Yeah, like that, Luce,” said Jules through her laughter. “Does it drive you crazy?” she added, her eyebrows waggling.
“You have no idea. Anyway, enough about all that. Chloe, what is going on with you—other than being madly in love and already surviving your first scandal.”
“Are we calling it a scandal?” Chloe asked. “I don’t know if that’s the right word.”
“Yeah, more like a shitstorm,” offered Jules. Chloe nodded her agreement, but Lucy threw Jules a look. “What? What would you call having your name dragged through the mud on social media?”
There was a moment of silence. “A scandal,” Jules and Chloe said in unison. They laughed and Lucy tutted.
“Sorry, Luce, you were right,” Jules conceded.
“Yes, I know. Now can we please get back to Chloe’s news?”
“Right, my news. So, just before we got the call about Madison and the Twitter scandal, Archer and I were talking about the film—you know, the Capels’s story—and he asked if I’d ever thought about producing, and of course, I’m like, ‘Uh, no, it has never even crossed my mind.’ Anyway, he told me he has this producer friend, Fi, who I should talk to, so he set up a call for us. Actually, I ended up speaking to her in the departure lounge at Heathrow.
“And oh, my god, she is ah-mazing. We talked about my professional experience, and she had all these questions about my skillset and my goals and then she told me all about what she does. And she said that if Archer’s film does get the go ahead, she’ll be producing it and she’ll take me on, sort of like an apprenticeship.”
Lucy pressed her hands together and clapped them lightly. “Oh, Chloe! That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
Chloe beamed. “I know! It’s … I have no words. It’s beyond my wildest imagination, and if I think about how I met Archer … I mean, seriously, this is all like something out of a movie.”
“Especially the part with the scandal,” offered Lucy.
“Uh, yeah, right.”
Lucy scrutinised Chloe’s face. Was she just pretending to be fine with everything? “Chloe, are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah. Why, what do you mean?”
“Well, it’s just that only a couple of days ago, your face and your name were splattered all over the internet.”
“Well, yeah, that was awful—still is in some ways. I mean, the dust has barely settled. And, sure, if I think about it too much, then it can be a little overwhelming. But I love him, so …” She shrugged.
“I just wish we’d been there for you,” said Lucy.
“I know you do. And that’s exactly why we’re all here. I needed my girls. I need my girls.”
“Me too,” said Jules. “I still can’t decide if us swapping Christmases was the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst.”
“How so?” asked Lucy.
“Well, it’s just that so much happened—for each of us—but we weren’t there to share it. And that thing with you and me, Luce … Maybe that wouldn’t have happened if we’d all been together.”
“Hmm, maybe.” They were quiet for a moment and Lucy guessed that the others were contemplating “what ifs” the same way she was. What if she’d stayed in England and had Christmas with Chloe? Then she and Will would never have got together. She shuddered at the thought.
“Sorry,” said Jules. “I didn’t mean to be a Debbie Downer. Chloe’s got more news, by the way,” she prompted.
“Oh, right. I almost forgot!” exclaimed Chloe and Lucy perked up with anticipation. “So, after New Year’s, Archer is flying to LA to meet with the studios—that’s how they say it—‘meet with the studios’—love it!” she sing-songed. “Anyway, all going to plan, they’ll start shooting mid-year and …” she paused for effect. “I will be based in London for the duration.” She gaped at Lucy, her mouth and eyes wide with excitement.
“You’re moving to London? You’re moving to London!” Lucy leapt off the sofa and jumped up and down, clapping her hands.
Chloe grinned up at her. “Well, a bit like with Jules, there are a lot of things that have to fall into place, but that’s the tentative plan.”
Lucy sighed happily and plopped back down onto the sofa. Then she had a thought. “But what if the film falls through? I mean, it probably won’t because it’s Archer, but he is a first-time director, and what if they say no?”
“Well, we’ve talked about that, of course, and even if it does fall through, we’ll still want to be together. And at this stage, it seems like London makes the most sense.
”
The sob erupted from Lucy without warning. “Hey, Luce?” she heard Jules ask. “Are those happy tears?” She nodded, then shook her head, and tried to stop the sobs. Yes, of course, she was happy for Chloe and that one of her best friends would be living in London. But all this talk of plans—Jules moving to Australia, Chloe in love with Archer and making a life with him—only shone a light on the fact that she and Will hadn’t discussed any.
And it would be New Year’s in a couple of days and then she’d have to go home to England. The thought turned her stomach upside down and the sobs started up again. She was only vaguely aware that Chloe was now perched on the end of the sofa and Jules had drawn close to her other side. They both petted her and made soothing sounds, but what was she going to do?
This was what it felt like every time she travelled with her two best friends, and it got closer and closer to the end of their holiday—only a thousand times worse. And she knew it was too early to know what her feelings for Will even were, or what they could become, but at the bare minimum, she adored him—and fancied the pants off him.
Actually, she adored fancying his pants right off him. She choked out a laugh at her own terrible joke, but it did the trick. The sobs started to subside and she was left ragged and raw, still with a dilemma, but at least with her sense of humour intact.
“Is this about Will?” Chloe asked.
Lucy nodded, taking in gulps of air to help her calm down, her hand pressed to her chest.
“You have to talk to him, Luce,” Jules said in a gentle but firm voice.
“I know,” Lucy wailed, swinging back towards misery.
“Hey, I know my brother and he’s super into you, I can tell. Just talk to him, okay?”
“I will, I promise.”
“And don’t you dare move to Colorado and leave me in London by myself. I need you, Lucy, and don’t forget, it’s all about me now, ’cause my boyfriend’s super famous, and I’m very likely to turn into a diva.”
“Turn? Turn into a diva?” Jules teased.
“Oh, ha ha!”
Jules threw up her hands. “Hey, if the Louboutins fit!”
Lucy had lost count of the times she’d sat between her two friends as they bantered, but she loved them more in that moment for making her smile through her tears than she ever had.
Chapter 34
The May Ladies
“Did I tell you that you look gorgeous tonight?” Will asked, one hand grazing the small of Lucy’s back. “Extra gorgeous, I mean. You’re always gorgeous,” he added quickly.
Lucy giggled and shook her head. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
“Do what? Admire you?” She felt a hand lift her hair then the brush of his lips against her neck. She revelled in the feeling, abandoning the task of rinsing dishes and leaning into him.
“No,” she said softly. “I mean reassure me. I am aware that you fancy me, you know.”
“Oh, I more than fancy you, Lucy.” He nuzzled her neck and Lucy seriously considered leaving the washing up and slipping upstairs before the countdown to the New Year. She still couldn’t believe that she, Lucy Browning, had turned into quite the lusty nymph.
And all it had taken was half a lifetime of dating boring, practically asexual men, then meeting a vibrant, scrummy man, who emboldened her and made her laugh. The last time, she’d laughed so hard that she’d snorted, which had set them both off again. Her stomach muscles had ached for hours.
But she had volunteered them for the washing up for a reason, and it was far more important than disappearing for a quickie. “Will …”
“Mmm?”
She turned her head. “Come on, let’s get this done.”
He groaned, then started loading plates and cutlery into the dishwasher while she filled the sink with hot water and dish soap. She donned rubber gloves and, elbows deep in suds, she finally broached the subject she had been putting off since the day the others arrived.
“Uh, Will?” He joined her at the sink, taking a clean pot from her and drying it. Lucy took a steeling breath—at least they were side by side and she didn’t have to look him in the eye. This was already hard enough. “I just wanted to talk to you about …” Breathe, she told herself. “What will happen now.”
She felt him tense beside her for a moment, then take the next clean pot from her. “You mean, with us.”
It wasn’t a question and Lucy tried to read the tone of his voice. Focusing on the scrubbing of some particularly stubborn baked-on grease, she swallowed the lump in her throat and proceeded. “Yes, exactly. I mean, I’m off to England the day after tomorrow, as you know, and I wondered if … well, I’d like to continue with us … That is, if you want to.”
He stopped drying the pot, his hands coming to rest on the countertop.
“Do, you … want to?” she asked. This was even more difficult than sending those emails to Angela. She stared into the sudsy water with bated breath.
“Lucy. Hey, Luce, look at me.” This is it—be brave. She lifted her gaze to his, hopeful, terrified.
“Look, neither of us could ever have known how this Christmas would turn out. I mean, Jules came back from Australia early—with a boyfriend. Archer Tate just cooked me dinner, and now he’s sitting in my living room.” He grinned down at her and, without thinking, she reciprocated. “But the biggest surprise—the best surprise—is you, Lucy. And, yes, I think we should continue with us. I’ve never done long distance before, but we’ve gotta see, right?”
It was the perfect response, and it left her speechless. “Lucy?”
“Yes, yes, absolutely right. We have to see. So, long distance it is!”
“Awesome,” he said, leaning in to seal their plan with a kiss. “So, is this why we’re cleaning up the kitchen, just the two of us?”
She blew out a sigh, then resumed the washing up. “Yes, sorry about that. It’s just been hard to get you alone since the others arrived, and I’ve been putting it off …” She tilted her head and shrugged.
“Hey, it’s all good. And you weren’t the only one putting it off, you know. So, thank you.”
She looked up. “For what?”
“For being brave enough to ask me about it.” He leant over and kissed her forehead.
Brave. Until recently, she would never have called herself that. But perhaps the Lucy that other people knew—that Will knew—was closer to the real Lucy.
Lucy Browning—brave, formidable, beautiful, and a lusty nymph to boot.
She giggled to herself and handed the last of the clean pots to Will.
*
Chloe leant back against the soft leather of the couch, her feet tucked under her and Archer’s hand resting on her thigh. Would she even make it to midnight, she wondered. She’d hit a wall and it could have been anything from jet lag to the highs and lows of the week’s events catching up with her. Maybe it was a mix. Still, she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.
She’d spoken to Ash earlier, just after the clock struck midnight in Melbourne, eager to see her friend’s face and to wish her a happy New Year. Ash and her team were running an event for the City of Melbourne—live music, food trucks, fireworks, the lot—but she’d been able to sneak away for a few minutes.
Even though it was a quick call, Ash had spilled her own news. She and Davo were going on a date to talk everything through and see where they were at. Chloe hoped that one way or the other, Ash would get some sort of resolution. She loved Davo, but it hadn’t been a clean break, leaving Ash not only missing him but hopeful that they’d get back together. Chloe didn’t know if she’d be returning home to a reconciled couple or a miserable bestie, but either way, she’d be there for Ash—at least for the immediate future.
Her heart tugged at the thought of no longer living with Ash, but Chloe promised herself she’d make the most of the time leading up to her move to London. Besides, Jules would be making her big move soon. That would ease the sting a little, knowing that they had
each other as Jules settled into her new life in Melbourne.
New life …
Chloe had always loved seeing in the New Year—all that promise, a clean slate. But if she’d been told a year ago what would be on her horizon this coming year, she would have written it off as nonsense. She’d been happy in her life before meeting Archer, or so she’d thought. She’d been content, she realised now, which was not a bad thing, but she’d been playing it safe, never doing anything that terrified her, or thrilled her, or that left her breathless.
Jules had been frank about her rut, but Chloe now realised that she’d been living in her own. Well, not anymore …
Archer leant in close. “I’ll give you a whole pound for those thoughts,” he said quietly.
“You don’t have to pay me one penny.” They shared a smile. “I was just thinking how excited I am about everything that’s coming up.” She lifted a hand to her mouth, stifling a yawn.
“You’re hiding it very well,” he teased.
“I’ve hit a wall,” she confessed.
“Are you going to make it? To the New Year?” he asked, his eyes alive with amusement.
Chloe glanced at the clock on the mantle above the fireplace. “I think I can make it another twelve minutes.”
“Well done, you. Taking one for the team.”
“Wait, isn’t that a baseball expression?” she asked, a crease forming between her brows.
“It is indeed. Left Field, remember? That film I did with Ron Howard about ten years ago.”
She looked at him blankly. “I really do need to get stuck into your back catalogue.”
He shook his head at her. “No, you absolutely do not. But if you do, at least let me tell you which ones to avoid.”
“So, you’ve made some crappy films, then?”
“Some absolute stonkers, yes.” He paused. “Do you know that I love you?”
“I do. And I love you right back,” she replied. “You know, other than the girls and my family, I’ve never said that to anyone before.”