I don’t know how to get through to her. For every moment she seems civil, there are several more that are razor sharp.
She suddenly catches me looking and frowns slowly, “What?”
“Look, Reagan, I’m trying here,” I practically whisper the words as I lean over the table. “Can’t you throw me a bone?”
Reagan’s frown intensifies. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Figures.
My eyes drop down to my meal, defeated, “Never mind. Let’s just eat.”
The rest of the meal is exceptionally awkward, and when it becomes clear to Declan and the crew that there isn’t going to be anything camera worthy to catch, they treat themselves to lunch across the cafe.
By the time we’re finished, I feel as miserable as I did when we first arrived. I throw down a twenty for my lunch and reach for my coat hanging on my chair.
“I’m going to head to that maple syrup place,” I tell Reagan when she looks over at me. “Get Jill some of their organic stuff.”
“I’ve always wanted to make my own maple syrup,” Reagan states as she reaches for her own purse.
I pull my coat over my body, “I’ll see you later.”
“How are you going to go back up,” Reagan asks, “if I take the van?”
“I’m sure they have taxis.”
I zip up my jacket and throw my purse strap over my shoulder.
I’m not sure if the point of me going to the maple syrup store is really to get Jill the syrup or because I suddenly had the urge to be alone after that awkward lunch. Maybe it’s a little of both.
I leave the cafe and head down the street, around the corner where I remember the shop being. This time, as I reach the doors, Diana isn’t inside sampling their goodies. I hurry inside. A sweet, heavy aroma engulfs me as the bell above the door chimes. I scrape my boots against the rubber matt at my feet and look around. The entire store is wooden, from the dark hardwood floor to the gray stained wooden walls. White chalk painted shelves hang on the walls stocked with maple syrup products from the actual bottled syrup, to candies, even tea and coffee. A large chandelier hangs from the ceiling, with what I’m hoping are fake deer antlers streaming down from it.
“It’s fake, don’t worry.”
I glance towards the large glass display cabinet which runs across the left side of the room. There’s a man who stands behind the register, with a pair of robust arms, and dirty blond hair that’s pulled back into a bun. He’s sporting a five o’clock shadow and corners of his mouth lift to reveal a charming smile. “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” I say, after shaking myself free from the grasp of the man’s obvious attractiveness. “Do you guys have any of your organic maple syrup left?”
He moves his eyes off of me, to a shelf across the room. “I think there are two bottles left over there.”
“Great,” I give him my best smile as I walk over to the shelf he motioned to. I spot the bottles near the corner and quickly take them in my hands. It’s lighter syrup than the one in the bottles next to it. I also pluck up some wrapped maple syrup lollipops in a mason jar on the bottom shelf.
I can feel the man’s eyes on me and when I turn around, he speaks to me. “You’re with that TV show filming at the lodge, right?”
“Unfortunately,” I answer sarcastically as I approach the counter.
“A couple of you guys where in here the other day,” he says as he watches me set down the maple syrup and candies. “A blond and her friend.”
“I hope they bought a lot of stuff from you,” I say dryly upon hearing the word “friend” in that sentence.
“Couple hundred dollars’ worth,” he replies as he reaches for the bottles to ring up. “The blond was nice.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “I’m sure she was.”
He laughs and it ripples cheerfully around me, “I’m guessing she flirts with everyone.”
I smile and raise my eyebrows at him, “What do you think?”
He finishes ringing up my products and puts them in a brown paper bag with a tweed string handle. I set down my credit card after he gives me my price and wait as he charges it. “She was supposed to book a maple tapping trip with us, but she never called.”
I can’t help but sneer. “Diana isn’t someone who is into that stuff.”
He chuckles as he hands me my card, “She didn’t seem the type. But she took a pamphlet. My mom was hoping it’d give us some publicity, business has been slow the last few years…”
I remember the pamphlet I saw Adam give to the bartender.
“When’s your next outing?” I ask him as I take my bag off the counter.
“Day after tomorrow. There are still some spots left,” he answers, reaching underneath the counter. He hands me the same pamphlet Adam threw out. “Hope you guys can make it.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I appreciate it. So will my mom.”
I leave the shop with my products, stuffing the pamphlet into my bag. Before it’s even crammed in, someone with black gloves pulls it from me.
“Hey!” I object, my face unwinding when I see that it’s Declan, and his dark eyes scan the cover. He raises his eyebrows as he opens the pamphlet and scours the inside pages.
“I thought it could be fun to do,” I say.
“It could be boring to do,” he corrects.
I snap the pamphlet from his hands and cram it into my purse. I begin to walk away and he steps up next to me to meet my pace. “Why are you here?”
“I told Reagan I’d give you a ride back,” he answers, “in the van. She went with them in the crew truck. We need more scenic shots anyway and today’s a good day for it.” He shows me a small handheld camera hanging off his belt.
“That looks like it’s from the 90’s.”
“Ha ha, it’s actually a camera made specifically for pan shots without a tripod,” he explains. “I need to get some more of the village.”
“How long is this going to take?” I whine.
“Why?” He holds back a smirk but not very well, “Have a few more awkward conversations to get back to?” I throw him an unappreciative frown and he chuckles. “Don’t worry, shouldn’t take longer than an hour, I’ll have you back to Ski Boy.”
I frown at him. “Simon, and that’s not why I’m asking. I just don’t want to watch you work all day.”
“Why not?” he asks as he begins to cross the street, “I watch you work all day.”
“That’s not work,” I say as I follow him.
“You’re getting paid for it, aren’t you?” he asks back.
He’s heading towards the fountain in the middle of the square. The wind is picking up and light snow is rolling from the pavement creating misty clouds at the ground. The sun is still high in the bright blue sky. Declan sets the camera down on the edge of the fountain and flips up a wide screen above it. I watch him adjust it until he motions for me to step out of the way, so I move towards the fountain and sit down on the cold stone.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to sit on cold surfaces?” he asks without focus leaving his set up.
“No,” I say. “She told me never to leave the house without blush, lipstick and mascara.”
He doesn’t respond, he finishes pushing some buttons on the screen of the small camera and I watch a small tube eject from the front. It slowly begins to move left and right while a red light flashes on the side of it. After he watches it for a few moments, he takes a seat down next to me and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a pack of gum and offers me a piece.
“Is this your way of telling me my breath stinks?” I ask as I take it.
“Kind of.”
My hand goes over my mouth in horror. “It does not!”
“No, it doesn’t,” he chuckles as he takes a piece himself. He pops it in his mouth and begins to chew. “Pretty brut
al lunch with Reagan.”
“Pretty much sums up the entire filming experience for me,” I agree with a nod.
“Is that why you want to do the maple tree tapping thing?”
“Yeah.”
He leans back so his shoulder brushes against him and then looks down at me, “I’ll talk to Oscar but unless something can happen that makes that interesting, it may be a no go.”
“Diana flirted with the guy who runs it,” I tell him. “He looks like a lumberjack.”
Declan lets out a laugh and nods, “That could be good. Think he’d follow a suggestion or two from Oscar?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, maybe, probably. He may not need to if you keep Adam away and let Diana have free reign.”
Declan sucks air in between his teeth. “Cut camera time from Adam? I don’t know…”
Were silent for a while, watching the people pass by us leisurely.
I look over at Declan, his dark eyes on the village in front of us, every few seconds they dart from the buildings to the mountains behind them. The wind blows a few strands of his hair across his forehead.
For a moment I think about Simon and Adam, and how completely different Declan is from them. Sure, Adam and Simon have an air about them that could land them on the cover of GQ. Mostly based mostly on their fashion sense, high cheekbones and shiny hair. Or reputation with women.
Declan is just different.
Real.
He suddenly catches me staring and his eyebrows fall, “What?”
“Nothing,” I mutter, quickly looking away to my feet as they brush against the snowy pavement. “Just wondering how bushy you’re going to let that thing get on your face.”
He looks away from me as he strokes the stubble on his chin. “I like it. It grew on me.” He elbows me in the side, “Get it? Grew on me.”
I can’t help but laugh as I shake my head, “That is the worst joke I have ever heard.”
Shrugging as he chuckles a little, he says, “Give me time…”
It’s moments like this that make it hard for me to accept what Declan did four years ago. How he lied.
“Adam says you lied, about telling me he wanted a television show.”
Declan frowns at me, “Do you think I’m lying?”
I shrug.
“He’s the liar,” Declan mutters, and he looks down at his boots. “It’s what he does best.”
I can’t argue with that.
“So, what are we filming tomorrow?”
Declan points up, and I look over the building, seeing a sky blue Ferris wheel in the distance behind Main Street. “Winter Carnival.”
“Should be exciting,” I say.
He gives me a look, “Better be.”
Chapter Fourteen
I spent the rest of the afternoon with Declan filming scenic shots around the village. We did nothing but talk about what had happened filming so far and what Oscar hoped he could get out of us. Declan told me more about the lion documentary he lost out on, and by the time we had to head back to the lodge, I was more confused about him than ever.
Why is it so hard for me to hate him?
I went straight to sleep when I got to the suite, which was Simon-less. When I awake in the morning however, he is here, sleeping in his place on the floor, clutching a pillow like a teddy bear.
I shower and by the time I leave the bathroom, Simon is awake. He’s shirtless, lying on the bed watching television. His hair lightly tousled, the room service menu resting over his perfect abs. “I ordered breakfast in.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, adjusting the towel still wrapped around my hair. “Well, bathroom is free if you want to use it.”
He jumps off the bed, letting the menu fall to the ground. He gives me a bright smile as he scampers around me and into the bathroom. Somebody knocks on the door a moment later and Simon calls out from the bathroom, “Can you answer that, darling?”
I’m expecting room service as I pull the door open but it’s Jill instead. She’s in jeans and a white sweater, her short hair pulled back severely into a bun. An anxious hand over her tight forehead. “Hey, Jill.”
Her greeting is lost as she rushes into my room and shuts the door. “Is Simon here?”
“He’s in the bathroom,” I answer pointing at the closed door.
“Did he tell you what happened last night?”
“Uh no, he just woke up and went to the—”
“He was drinking at the bar last night until close,” Jill interrupts. “Same place where Adam and Diana were filming a romantic patio evening.”
My stomach drops. “What happened? Did they scream at each other?”
“They did more than scream at each other,” Jill says. “I don’t know what Simon said to Adam but they fought. They physically fought, Jules. Adam has a black eye and apparently Simon banged up his knuckles pretty badly. Diana wants you and Simon off the show. She’s meeting with Oscar now.”
“What? What did they fight about?”
“Don’t know, but Brooke was there with Reagan and they said that the crew had to intervene,” Jill explains. “Thought I’d warn you, so you don’t walk into today blindsided.”
I walk to my unmade bed and drop down on it, “This is a nightmare.”
Agreeing to let Simon on the show was a bad idea. I should have just fessed up with the lie, or bribed him to go away, or… something.
“Oh don’t worry! Oscar loves it,” Jill tells me as she crosses the room. “He says he thinks the network will air the reunion two months ahead of schedule once he shows them the clips and trailer.” She notices Simon’s bed on the floor and smirks, “I was wondering what the sleeping arrangements where.” Gracefully, she looks back at me now. “Where were you yesterday? We thought you were going to meet us downstairs for a drink.”
“I stayed behind in the village, I got you some of that organic maple syrup,” I point to the paper bag resting on the dresser.
“Aw, thank you,” Jill smiles as she grabs the bag and looks inside. “Did you shop the whole time?”
“No, I didn’t shop. I was with Declan. He was filming some scenic stuff.”
Jill slowly looks up at me, “Declan?”
“Yes…” I frown at her. “What?”
“So you guys are friends?”
“I, I don’t know,” I shrug.
“Huh,” Jill mutters as she looks back into the paper bag.
“What?” I push.
She holds the bag with both hands now before her and shrugs at me. “Nothing.”
I sigh loudly as I demand more from her. “No, Jill, what?”
“I just thought you hated him.”
“I don’t hate him, I—it’s complicated.”
“Because he set Adam and Diana up?”
I blink at her.
How does she—how did she know that?
“Adam said something after it happened,” Jill tells me as my face turns. “After you caught them—when he went chasing after you but missed you at the elevator. He passed me in the hallway and told me. I didn’t really believe it but, then you stopped talking to Declan and I realized it must have been true. Pretty horrible thing for him to do, being your friend and all. Adam’s too.”
I drop my head in my hands and let out a sigh. “Adam just wanted Declan to give him his own show, they were hardly friends.”
Jill lets out a low chuckle, “Adam the user.” After a moment of silence, Jill speaks again. “Look, just be careful then with Declan, okay? Reagan says he—”
A knock at the door interrupts her, “Hair and makeup here.”
Wait, Reagan said what?
“I’ll let you go, see you downstairs in a bit,” Jill gives me a quick smile.
“Jill,” I get to my feet as she reaches the door, “what did Reagan say?”
She pulls the door open and allows the team inside, before scampering off.
I didn’
t get a chance to talk to Simon alone either. By the time the teams were finished with the two of us, because of Simon’s suggestions about his hair and wardrobe, we are late. We have to meet everyone at the Winter Carnival separately.
When we arrive outside of Dirhurst, Declan and his camera crew are waiting for us. The carnival is set up at the bottom of one of the smallest mountains, but with the snow trampled ground and the snowy trees, it’s a beautiful sight. The Ferris wheel is surrounded by bright red and green tents. I can smell a sweet, meaty aroma whisk around us and spot a long line of food trucks past the ticket booths. The carnival stretches further than I initially thought.
Next to me Simon exhales excitingly. “There are quite a few people here. Should make for an interesting day.”
“Were going to film you coming in together,” Declan tells the two of us, “before you join the others.” He’s bundled up in his big black jacket, a grey toque over his headset. “You have to meet up with Jill and Brooke at the ice sculpting booths.”
“We aren’t supposed to do any of that? With the ice, are we, mate?” Simon asks frowning at Declan. “Sounds boring.”
Declan frowns slightly as he looks up from the clipboard in his hands. “No, but it could probably make for good TV if you’re creative.” He looks over at me. “Any more questions?”
“Yes, I have one,” Simon states, and I feel him throw a tight arm around my shoulders. “Are we required to have you follow us around the entire time?”
As if he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You aren’t,” Declan answers, his voice thick with sudden annoyance, “but she is. You can go and do whatever you want, off camera. As long as it doesn’t involve Adam.”
I glance from Declan to Simon, who lets out a laugh. “I promise I won’t break the fraud.”
“Don’t even look at him,” Declan instructs as he hands the clipboard back to the woman who handed it to him. “Got it, buddy?”
“Got it,” Simon shoots back with a roll of his eyes. I watch Declan turn his back on us as he begins to instruct his crew.
“That producer’s a jerk,” Simon whispers to me.
I grab Simon’s arm and turn him to face away from Declan and the crew, bringing my voice to a whisper. “What did you say to Adam yesterday by the way?”
Reuniting Reality Page 18