I look at him just as he squeezes the bottle, and this time I run out of the way, squeezing the yellow dye his direction. It hits him across the chest, and I take the second to rush behind the snowbank. The blue dye crashes into the snow and splashes the white bank with color. He shoots another stream of dye and it hits my neck, I let out a shout as the cold dye drips beneath my coat collar.
I squeeze the bottle towards him but he manages to duck out of the way, and I spring from our assigned plot. The family in the next one stops painting the snow and shouts at us.
“Sorry!” I call out as I rush from their plot.
I feel some more blue dye hit my back fiercely and I let out a rattled laugh. I weave around the family, hearing Simon apologize to them as some of his dye ruins their painted snow canvas.
I manage to scoop up the red bottle and turn around to squirt it right out at Simon as he nears me. It hits him in the cheek and he lets out a shout, blocking the rest of the red dye with his arm. With his other hand he squirts the blue dye at me and I lurch out of its way, feeling it brush against the side of my head. I rush backwards, as Simon lunges nearer but he trips and falls into the snow.
I let out a laugh and take the opportunity to spritz the red dye down at him. It hits the snow near him as he wretches out of the way but I manage to get the dye all over the hands protecting his face a second later.
What I miss is him swinging his legs beneath me and knocking me down on my behind roughly. A whisk of blue dye slams into my chin and I fall back with a shout, covering my face with my hands. I can feel splatters of dye against my face as they hit the snow around me.
I hear a wet, fart like series of sounds above me and realize Simon’s out of dye. I open my eyes and shove my bottle in front of me when I realize he’s hovering over me. The red dye flies towards him and he manages to cover the impact with both arms now. It splatters all over his jacket and specks of red dye hit his golden hair.
“Okay!” He shouts, “You win! Stop!”
I drop my arms, along with my head into the cold snow beneath me. I suddenly realize that I’m out of breath and my chest is heaving through the cold air. When Simon realizes that I’ve stopped, he drops his arms and looks down at me, breathing just as heavily.
He laughs loudly, “Very attractive.”
“I wouldn’t talk, you look like a walking crime scene,” I smirk motioning at his ruined white jacket. He runs a hand through his hair which only spreads the red dye, and then glances at his own jacket.
He leans back, remaining on the ground but offers me his hand. I take it and let him pull up to a sitting position. We glance around our ruined canvas.
“I kind of like it,” Simon declares at the mixed aura of yellow, blue and red.
“Me too,” I agree.
Simon looks back at me, and I give me a small smile before I set my hands on my knees to get to my feet. He catches me off guard when he leans over and puts his hands around my waist. He pushes his lips against my mine quickly and his eyes shut. I’m stone in his arms. A second later his soft lips pull away and his nose nuzzles mine sweetly.
I’m suddenly very aware that we’re being filmed, that the crew, and Declan, are watching our exchange.
This is—I don’t like this.
“Don’t melt the snow, guys!”
I push Simon’s hands off me as I hear Brooke’s roaring voice. A second later, I spot her, Reagan, Adam and Diana coming towards us. They each have bottles of dye in their hands, but Brooke’s the only one grinning at us, and winking in her tipsy state.
I climb to my feet, Simon following my lead, and brush the snow off my jeans. “I think I’m going to head back to the lodge and change.”
“Good idea,” Simon agrees. “We can all meet for dinner later on.”
“They look ridiculous,” Diana barely whispers the words to Adam as they pass.
“Dinner sounds great!” Brooke cheers. “We’ll see you guys at the lodge.”
We move only a few feet when Declan yells “Cut!” and Simon relaxes next to me. I glance over at the crew. Declan has his back to us, and only the microphone woman is giving us her attention.
Chapter Fifteen
“I’m confused. Isn’t that what was supposed to happen?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know. We never talked about that…”
“He’s playing your fake boyfriend,” Angie reminds me. “A boyfriend is supposed to kiss you. I don’t understand why you’re so, out of sorts about it.”
“I just,” I whisper into my phone as my eyes fall to my gin and tonic, “I was just really uncomfortable with everyone watching.”
It’s almost five o’clock and I’m waiting for Simon at the bar downstairs. We got back to the lodge after two o’clock and Simon was right, the dye stained. It took me forty five minutes to get it off my skin, and I gave up on scrubbing it all from my hair. The hair team did as best as they could with curling my hair to hide the blue dye but it shone through, especially around my face. Simon had a tougher time with the dye.
“Who was watching?”
“The crew, the people filming,” I explain as I pick up my drink.
“Oscar?”
“No, not Oscar. Declan and his people.”
She’s silent, and while I wait for her to answer I take two long drinks of my gin. “Ange?”
“It’s their job to film it,” she finally says. “You weren’t uncomfortable when they filmed you and Adam five years ago, what's the big deal?”
Except I was. Towards the end, I was uneasy under the camera’s eye, suspicious of Adam, and nervous around Declan.
“I don’t know,” I let out a frustrated breath at myself. I shut my eyes and lean my forehead into my hand as I keep my phone steady against my ear. “I’m just losing my mind. Maybe it’s the whole Reagan thing, throwing me off…”
“That was probably it,” Angie’s support comes through. “That would definitely have thrown me for a loop. Especially if I was trying really hard to become friends again. What Diana said would have humiliated me too.”
I shudder as I remember the stares from everyone earlier today. They all looked so sorry for me, except Diana and Reagan of course.
“Want some company?”
I groan into my phone as Adam takes a seat on the barstool next to me, his shoulder sweeping into mine.
I set down my drink, “Angie, I have to call you back.”
“Who is that? Is that Adam?”
“Tell her I say ‘Hi’,” Adam’s voice looms too close to my ear for comfort and I jerk away a little bit.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I promise her. I end the call quickly and set the phone down next to my drink as I look up at my ex-husband. He’s freshly showered, his dark hair still wet, freshly shaved because I can smell his musky aftershave. He’s in a pair of dark jeans and grey sweater, the bruise beneath his eye is darker than it was earlier today. I pick up my gin again, “Nice bruise.”
“Courtesy of your ridiculous man friend,” Adam says as he gets the attention of the bartender. “Scotch on the rocks.” I feel him take a long look at me. “You still have blue dye in your hair.”
“I’m aware, and I like it,” I say then take a drink of gin.
“I’m sorry about Diana, she didn’t mean it. She got some bad news this morning.”
“I know, I saw Twitter,” I tell him. “That’d put me in a bad mood too.”
He frowns at me, “That’s not what did it. She knows better than to believe what some lowlife writes on Twitter.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say after I take a drink. “If the man I was married to, who wanted to have a baby with me, was suddenly cheating—”
“Baby? I don’t want kids,” his tone severe. “You know I hate them…” He thanks the bartender when he sets down his scotch and glances back over at me. He takes a slow drink of his scotch and sets it down nex
t to my gin. “Diana only drinks martinis. I don’t even think she likes them, she just thinks she should.”
“I don’t care,” I mutter, and I move my gin away from his scotch.
“Jules, I’m trying to have a conversation with you,” Adam’s voice dips to a firm whisper and I look over at him. His eyes dart around my face as if he’s looking for something.
I frown at him, “Why? There’s no reason for you to.”
“At least I’m making an effort,” he retorts as he lifts his scotch glass to his mouth, “unlike Reagan.”
“I’m not talking about that, with you,” I say, my voice seeping with annoyance.
“You should, it’s not like anyone else cares.”
He’s such a jerk.
“Shouldn’t you be upstairs with your wife?” I can’t help but snap at him, as I empty my glass. “She’s probably wondering where you are, or who you’re with.”
“I’m not cheating on her,” he tells me sternly. “If that’s what you’re getting at, if that’s what you meant a few days ago. I’m not an idiot.” He empties his scotch and slams the glass down, snapping his fingers at the bartender. “Refills, please.”
I let out a breath and look over at him, I catch his eyes running up my side and I scoff at it. A second later he smiles slowly, “That’s a nice dress.”
“Simon thinks so too,” I quip, giving the bartender a quick smile as he sets down our drinks and takes away our empty glasses.
“It’ll never last,” Adam suddenly declares, sitting up in his seat and lifting his glass. “You and him, it’s reaching its best before date.” He takes a drink of his scotch and looks at me.
I roll my eyes for effect as I say, “That’s what people say about you and Diana.”
“I’m serious,” Adam’s voice turns and his warm hand suddenly clamps over mine. I stare at it for a moment then I pull it out from underneath his. “There’s something about him, I can’t put my finger on it but it’s not right.”
I let out a laugh, a nervous one but I’m hoping it’s lost on him. “As if you’re an expert on relationships.”
“No,” he agrees, he twirls the scotch around in the glass then looks over at me again. “But I’m expert on you.” His words stun me silent and clear my throat as I pick up my gin to take a drink.
“You don’t know me anymore,” I say after I take a drink of the cold gin.
“Right,” sarcasm escapes from his mouth, “because you’ve changed and moved on.”
“What do you want, Adam?” I demand, my fingers gripping the glass. I look up from the clear alcohol to his hazel eyes. He seems jilted by my sharp tone and frowns enough for lines to grace his tanned forehead. “What do you want from me? Why don’t you just spit it out?”
“I—I just—” he pauses abruptly as he feels the weight of my eyes on him. I watch him look away into his drink. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“No you don’t, you just want to silence your own guilt,” I realize with a haughty laugh. “And you want me to have a one on one scene with Diana.”
Someone steps up between the two of us and we look up. Simon’s crystal blue eyes land on Adam and his look is far from cordial. He looks dapper in a light blue, form-fitted suit, no tie, his blond hair combed back but a few strands escaping and framing his delicate face. He wasn’t able to remove all the red and yellow either. “My guess would be a bit of both.”
Adam chuckles into his drink as he looks away from Simon. “Simon, how’s the hand?”
“Looks better than your face,” Simon throws back. He places a hand on my back and I take it as a queue to finish my drink. I place the glass down on the bar and push it away as I hop off my seat. “Thanks for the drink.”
He doesn’t say anything to either of us, and we walk away from him. We cross the bar together and Simon takes out his cell phone. “Look at this…”
He shows me his Twitter page and I can see a series of retweets from people who tagged him. There’s a photo of the two of us earlier from the day, in the snow, covered in a rainbow of dyes. “Somebody posted it online, and everyone loves it. Look at these…’”
He taps the screen with a finger. “This person says she hopes they air the reunion before Christmas...and this person wants us to get our own show, they think we're very cute...and this person—”
“That’s great.” I push the phone away from my face.
“I bet your director is overjoyed,” Simon smiles into his phone, missing my dis-interest.
“Oh, probably,” I sigh, I’m about to tug him towards the exit so we can join Jill and Brooke for dinner when I spot Declan and Reagan off in the corner of the bar.
He’s nursing a beer in one hand but everything, from the frown on his face, to his stiff posture, tells me they aren’t having a great conversation. Reagan pushes her long hair off her shoulder and points aggressively at the producer. Her usually soft features became dark. A moment later Declan tears his eyes off her annoyingly and catches sight of me and Simon. He lifts a hand to acknowledge us and a second later, Reagan looks over.
Her eyes jump from Simon to me where they linger, before she turns and disappears into the crowd. I don’t bother chasing after her, it may be time I give up. I hustle away from Simon though, who is still focused on his phone.
As I approach Declan, he gives me a quick smile, “Hey.”
“Hey, what's going on with you and Reagan?” I ask, my eyes follow the space she has disappeared through.
“Ah, she’s not happy with filming tomorrow,” he says, taking a quick drink of his beer. “I told her she has no choice.”
“What are we doing tomorrow?” I ask.
“You really should just give the schedule a quick glance,” he says.
I nod. “I will later. Just tell me what we’re doing?”
He gives me a tight-lipped smile, “Maple syrup tapping.”
Oh, right. I had asked for that, hadn’t I?
“You know,” I begin, “we don’t have to do that. You can cancel it. She’s not into it and I don’t want to push anyone into doing it.”
“Is this about what Di said today?” he wonders.
I frown, shrugging at the question. “No! It’s like I just said, if she’s not into it or anyone else then why bother?”
He raises his eyebrows almost hesitantly. “Noble, but Oscar thinks Diana and the lumberjack are going to deliver some good drama. Especially since she’s all caught up in Adam’s trending affair.”
I’m standing like a schoolgirl with my hands clasped behind my back, and he’s swaying slightly before taking a drink of his beer.
“You’re done filming for today?” I ask to fill the silence.
“Oscar’s taking over your dinner,” he says. “But I will warn you, Diana and Adam are planning on crashing with a half-assed apology to both you, and Simon.”
“Of course they are,” I sigh, glancing over my shoulder to spot Simon standing with a trio of women. They’re taking selfies and he’s grinning as if he’s just struck gold.
“Jules!” he suddenly shouts. He waves me over to him, and the trio giggle among each other. I feel my face crumple slightly at the thought of selfies with three strange women, and then I give Declan a sigh. “I better go, don’t want to be late for dinner.”
He gives me a small smile as he lifts his beer to his mouth. “Well, I’ll be drinking with everyone here if you need to blow off some steam afterwards.”
Why was it so awkward back there? Where did that come from?
Come to think of it, he gets all weird every time he argues with Reagan. All flustered.
I look across the table at her. She’s focused on her chicken salad.
She hasn’t even looked at me since Simon and I sat down. Next to her, Jill has barely touched her tofu bowl; she strums her fingers on the table as she stares at Simon, who hasn’t stopped talking since we sat down.
&nb
sp; I look over at him as he puts a forkful of his salad into his mouth. “I am telling you, New Zealand has some of the best practice runs in the world.”
“I’ve always wanted to go there!” Brooke exclaims on Simon’s other side. I lean back to see her look at him with her bright eyes. “My husband won’t go anywhere unless it’s an all exclusive resort in Hawaii.”
“They have those there,” Simon tells her. “Better than the ones in Hawaii.”
I glance over Jill and Reagan, watch Oscar examine his nail beds behind the camera. I don’t blame him. It’s been a dry, fifteen minutes of Simon talking.
“How’s your soup?” Reagan suddenly asks. I have to stare at her for a moment to see if she’s talking to me, and when she gives my silence an odd look, I realize she does mean me.
“Great. Cheesy,” I answer skimming my broccoli and cheese soup with my spoon, “How’s your salad?”
“Fine. So, tomorrow we're going to make maple syrup,” she says. “Girl’s trip.”
“Yeah, it should be interesting.”
“I’m going to skip out,” Jill tells the two of us. “I have a few conference calls scheduled tomorrow. I’ll meet up with you guys later on.”
“Let’s go ice skating!” Brooke exclaims at us all. “Tomorrow night! I saw the rink at the carnival today and it will look so pretty all lit up.”
I glance at Reagan. I know she can’t skate and just as she’s about to respond to Brooke, shadows loom over our table. We gaze up to see Diana and Adam. Diana smiles at us, once again dressed to impress in a pink lace crop top and knee length matching skirt. “Mind if we join you guys?”
“Not at all,” Brooke’s quick to say as she gestures at the table. There’s one empty chair next to Reagan and another on my other side, at the head of the table. Adam takes the seat at the head of the table, as Diana snuggles close to Reagan. She then looks directly at me and sighs, “Julie. I want to apologize. I feel really bad about what happened earlier today. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I got some sad news about my maid and I didn’t handle it well.”
“What happened to your maid?” Brooke asks.
Reuniting Reality Page 20