Making Love (Destiny Book 1)

by Catherine Winchester

  Most of the messages I’d been sent over social media were not work related. There were a lot of questions, like how long had we been dating, which I ignored. There were some sweet messages wishing us well, which was nice but weird, and there were some nasty messages (those users immediately got blocked) and some downright strange messages. Someone wanted to know what Will smelled like, while one chap was trying to warn me that Will was only using me.

  He could be genuinely worried for me, or passive aggressive, or just a troll but either way, he was blocked. I do not need dating advice from strangers, thanks.

  By the time I turned my attention back to my unfinished projects, it was gone noon and I doubted I’d get a lot done today. I reviewed them all however, so I was up to speed with my progress and ready to start drawing again tomorrow.

  My phone rang about once an hour but it was all from the press. I simply answered ‘no comment’ as soon as they introduced themselves, and entered the numbers into my phone with the publication name plus ‘no’ before it, and I assigned them all a tweeting birds ringtone that was easy to ignore.

  Will called at about 3pm, so I took a break and made some tea while we chatted.

  “Lee wants us to go public,” he told me, after we’d made the requisite amount of small talk.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think we should. All the time we deny it, we’re just going to have people after us, trying to prove we’re lying.”

  “Okay. How do we do that?”

  “I’ll do a tweet about it.”

  “It’s that simple?”

  “It can be.”

  “Okay then.”

  “Do you want to say anything?”

  “Not really.” I shook my head vehemently even though he couldn’t see me.

  “Okay. Do you mind what I say?”

  “I trust you. You’ve been playing this game for longer than I have.”

  “Can I release a picture?”

  “I suppose.”

  “I don’t have to.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I felt uncomfortable but I would get used to it.

  “I was thinking I’d post that one Helen took of us at the premiere. You looked stunning that night.”

  “Are you implying that I don’t usually look stunning?” I huffed.

  “Of course not, darling,” I could hear the mirth in his voice. “You are always the picture of radiance, even when hungover and still wearing last night’s make-up.”

  I laughed, knowing that I generally looked more like a zombie than a human being at those times.

  “I trust you,” I said seriously. “You do what you think is best and if I don’t like it, I’ll just deny you sex for the next two weeks.”

  He gasped. “You wouldn’t be so cruel!”

  “Try me,” I teased, but I couldn’t keep the laughter out of my voice.

  “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked.

  “Reviewing work, washing, drying, cleaning, more washing and drying. You?”

  “Eerily similar,” he assured me. “I hate doing laundry.”

  “Me too. One day, when I win the lottery, I am never doing washing again. I’m just going to buy everything new, wear it once, then donate it to charity.”

  “What if you particularly like an outfit?”

  “I’ll buy a dozen of them.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” he agreed. “Do you feel like doing something tomorrow night?”

  “I feel like seeing you but no, there will be no ‘doing’ of anything.”

  “Not even you?” he teased, his voice alone turning me on.

  “If you’re super well behaved and stop saying naughty things that only serve to frustrate me when you’re not here, then maybe you can ‘do’ me tomorrow night.”

  He laughed. “Deal.”

  ***

  I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the big reveal of our relationship actually didn’t change very much between us. Sure, my email and social media went a little crazy for a while, trailing off over the next few weeks and yes, there were some articles about us that bore little resemblance to the truth (one said we’d met while taking Argentine tango lessons. What the hell!) but nothing we couldn’t shrug and laugh off.

  I attracted a little more attention in public but without Will on my arm, I was still basically a nobody, and this state of affairs was fine with me.

  At the beginning of July, I could put off a meeting with my mother no longer and Will and I drove up to Manchester to see her.

  Mum was fairly well behaved when we had dinner and with Will being his usual charming self, the evening went quite well. I even found myself warming up to her new husband who until now, had viewed us children with a sort of quiet suspicion, as if we were his competition for Mum’s affections. You’d think after nearly 10 years with her, he’d realise that her priorities were herself, her man, her daughters, in that order.

  A week later we flew out to Detroit so Will could shoot a new film called Kismet. Not only was it a 16-week shoot, there were at least three locations, so I had decided it would just be easier to go with him from day one, rather than flying out to different places for a snatched few weeks together. Will was thrilled but I had to admit, I was not looking forward to moving quite so frequently.

  I knew it wasn’t really ‘moving’ but we would be living in these new locations, at least briefly, and I still wasn’t over the Sentinels’ press tour. Logically I knew that the two weren’t comparable, but nevertheless, I wasn’t warming to the idea of being a nomad, until we got to Detroit.

  I fell almost instantly in love with the city though. You might think that strange since the urban decay was all people reported on, but I found it fascinating or more specifically, I found the stories behind these crumbling facades fascinating.

  I spent a whole morning just wandering around and photographing the Michigan Theatre, once one of the grandest buildings in the city, maybe even the state. Now they couldn’t even afford to pull it down so it had been turned into a car park. When I found these places, I then felt compelled to look up their history online, which led me to more stories and new places to hunt out.

  We had a serviced apartment of rooms in a hotel this time but come the evenings, I didn’t leave the hotel. Crime in Detroit was just too high for me to feel comfortable wandering about alone and even with Will beside me, I’d felt intimidated by gangs of youths.

  I have to admit, I began to feel a little lonely, which was one reason I went out and about so often. Will went to the set every day and was surrounded by people but I had no one here; no friends, no workplace, just a laptop and to be frank, Skype was a poor substitute for real interactions with my friends back home.

  When Will had a few days of night shoots, the loneliness really began to set in. He slept until about 3pm, then headed to the set about 2 hours later so if I wanted to see him that day, I had to be back from my wandering early. The evenings I spent alone because the hotel bar was just depressing on my own and I was sick of getting hit on. Sometimes I visited the gym since I generally prefer working out when it’s quiet, and it was virtually deserted in the evenings, but I could hardly work out all evening. I also couldn’t call home because the time difference meant it was the middle of the night in the UK.

  I worked a lot, mostly in the evenings on those nights so that I had my days free to wander, but the whole situation was getting me down.

  “I feel like I haven’t seen you for days,” Will said on a rare day off, wrapping his arms around me while I pottered in the kitchen.

  Our cycles were still out of synch and he hadn’t gotten up until mid-afternoon.

  “Well that’s not my fault.” I replied, slipping out of his grasp. I know I sounded tetchy, because that’s how I felt.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his tone also hardening.

  “Nothing,” I said with a sigh. Yeah, I can be passive aggressive. I’m not proud of it.

  “
No, something’s bothering you,” he insisted, crossing his arms as he leaned against the kitchen side.

  “How would you know? We never see each other.”

  “Is that what this is about? It’s only been a week, Elle and these night shoots will be over soon.”

  “I honestly don’t know why you wanted me here with you when all you do is work. Even when you’re not shooting nights, you’re gone for ten to twelve hours!”

  “You knew that when you agreed to come.”

  “Oh yes, of course, it’s my fault I’m stuck in a strange city without a single friend and virtually under house arrest once darkness falls!” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Well maybe you’d have a friend if you’d accept some of the invitations you get.”

  I knew he was right, most of the cast and crew were staying in the hotel and I wasn’t the only partner who had tagged along. I didn’t want to hear that my loneliness could be my fault though.

  “So is this to be my life now? Wondering from city to city like some nomad, making friends in each new place, only to have to leave them behind when it’s over?”

  “Elle…” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Although he was in sweats, he looked very handsome with his stubble and his hair still mussed from sleep, but I wasn’t in the right mood to appreciate that at the moment. “I don’t know what to say to you, I thought you understood how my life worked.”

  He was infuriatingly calm, which made me angrier and I wanted to provoke him.

  “Why is it always me fitting into your life?” I demanded. “Why am I the only one who has to make sacrifices for this relationship?”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  I wanted him to make more time for me. I wanted to be as, if not more important than his career. That sounded incredibly needy though and I prided myself on not being a needy person, so I didn’t say that.

  “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “You just go on living your life, Will. Why don’t you text me when you can fit me in.” I left the kitchen, picked up my bag and headed straight out.

  By the time I got to the lobby, Will had caught up, having found shoes, a hoodie and then caught up in record time. Ladies, if you want to make a quick escape, never date a runner.

  “Elle, wait, please.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out. The same thing I do every day while you’re off with your friends.”

  “I’m not ‘off with my friends’,” he said as the doorman held the door open for us. He grabbed my arm once we were outside “Please, let’s not fight in public. Come back to the room and we can talk.”

  “Right, because what really matters in life is what other people think.” I yanked my arm out of his grasp and kept on walking and Will did this weird kind of sideways walk so he could look at me.

  “Please, Ellie, I’m sorry. Let’s go somewhere and talk. Please.”

  “I don’t want to talk, Will.”

  “Then what do you want? Do you want me to quit my job? What?”

  Even when angry, I couldn’t ever ask someone to do that.

  “I just want you to… want me to be here!” What? He’s the one who’s good with words, not me.

  “I do want you here, you know that.”

  “Then why am I alone all the time?”

  “Tell me what I can do to make it better?”

  “If you don’t know, then I can't help you!” Truthfully, even I didn’t know what I wanted him to do. “I want to go home.” I decided.

  He stopped walking and after a few more paces, I had to turn to see where he was. He looked as if I’d slapped him. Did he think I was breaking up with him?

  “If that’s what you want, then fine.” He sounded calm but his eyes were hard. “But just remember, it’s not my fault you’ve refused every offer of friendship from everyone on this cast and crew.”

  He turned on his heels and strode back to the hotel, just as my tears began to fall. I couldn’t face him yet, so I continued walking, not really having a destination in mind, only knowing that I couldn’t go back yet.

  The truth is, he was right and as my anger and self-pity faded, I realised how my actions must look to him and his friends.

  I probably seemed like an uptight bitch who thought she was better than these people, because he was right, I had received a lot of offers from family members who had accompanied loved ones here.

  In truth, the opposite was true, I was intimidated by them, feeling fat, frumpy and just generally unworthy. I wasn’t fat, I was a UK size 12 (sometimes 14) but a perfectly healthy weight for my height. However, I wasn’t Hollywood thin, as some news outlets had very kindly pointed out when news of our relationship broke.

  The only celebrities I felt I could make a friend of were Helen and her husband, but that was before the internet brought my flaws to light and let’s face it, neither Helen nor Stephen were A-list stars, which made them a little less intimidating.

  Even when we’d toured Asia with Chris, I had kept mostly to myself, allowing Will and Chris to chat when we shared a meal and keeping to myself unless they spoke directly to me. I had carefully avoided the big stars from the Shadow Watch movies, people like Robert Davis, Audrey Grant and especially Jackson Moore (he had a hard-man image and I just had this nightmare picture in my head of him telling me to ‘get out of my way, motherfucker!). Everyone else I was polite to but no more.

  I felt that they probably thought I was painfully shy but now, I realised they probably thought I was a snob.

  Once my tears dried, I stopped in at an ice cream parlour I’d discovered and as I devoured a bowl of chocolate ice cream and vanilla milkshake (I needed the sugar rush) my thoughts turned to the other reason I’d been reticent.

  Added to my personal insecurities, I now had the ever present fear when talking to new people, that anything I said could appear in the press at some point, which was why I had also avoided overtures from the non-famous people on set, the families and crew members, of which there were many more than there were actors. Again, I was polite with them but I was content to let Will do the talking, or just make awkward small talk about the weather or the city if he wasn’t around.

  Far from appearing shy and slightly introverted, I probably came across as an egotistical narcissist.

  I finished up and hailed a cab back to the hotel. The thing is, when I realise and more importantly, accept that I’m in the wrong, I literally can't relax until I apologise, so the longer I delayed this, the greater my anxiety would grow.

  I checked my face as we drove; luckily I had no make-up on to run but my eyes were still a little red from my earlier crying. There was nothing I could do about that, but at least I didn’t look so bad that I’d send small children running to their mothers.

  I paid the driver and jogged to the lifts, hoping to avoid any awkward questions if I ran into anyone I knew.

  I steeled myself as I approached our room and after taking a deep breath, let myself in.

  “Will?” I called. “Are you here?”

  There was no reply but I had a quick look around, just in case. I texted him, but heard his phone beep on the kitchen counter.

  Since I’d have to go searching, I took the time to pat a little witch hazel around my eyes, to cool them down and take some of the redness away, but I didn’t feel as if I had time to put on any make-up.

  I did a whirlwind tour of the hotel, starting at the gym and pool in the basement, and working my way up. He wasn’t in the reception or the bar, so I took the lift to the other restaurant near the top. It was still too early for dinner so it and the accompanying bar area were fairly quiet, and I quickly saw that he wasn’t there either.

  My tears threatened to fall again, from frustration this time, but as I turned back towards the lift, someone called my name and I turned to find Michelle approaching me.

  “Elle, are you okay?” Michelle asked. She was Jonathan’s wife, one of Will’s co-sta
rs, and she was one of the people who had tried to befriend me.

  “I can't find Will,” I admitted.

  “Are you worried?”

  I shook my head. “We had a fight and I need to apologise but I can't find him anywhere.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Michelle enveloped me in a warm hug. “It’s okay. Come and join us,” Michelle wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me over to a table in the bar, where she was sitting with Alice, one of the actresses on the project. I didn’t have the will to protest.

  “You need a drink, then you need to tell me what happened and we’ll decide how to proceed, okay?”

  She was being so maternal that I actually cried harder for a few moments.

  Alice also looked concerned but the women waited patiently while I calmed down and began to sip the drink they had ordered for me. Jameson, at least a double measure.

  “Now, what happened?” Michelle asked kindly. She was being far nicer than I deserved.

  Rambling and out of order, I told them the whole story, of our fight and my insights following it.

  “Now he think’s I’ve broken up with him and want to go home and I can't find him to explain.”

  “I don’t think you’re a bitch,” Alice assured me, taking my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I just thought you were introverted.”

  “We all did,” Michelle agreed. “We’ve all been where you are right now, moving in new circles, even the most famous actors started out as unknowns, so everyone understands how intimidating it can be. No one thinks badly of you, I promise.”

  “Thank you.” I used one of the drink serviettes to mop my tears as they fell again, only a trickle this time though, rather than a flood.

  “You’re welcome. Now, I don’t know Will very well but I seem to recall that jogging relaxes him, so maybe he’s just gone out for a run.”

  That made sense actually. “Yeah,” I said softly, feeling like a fool now.

  “So, why don’t you go back to your room and wait for him and if I see him first, I’ll send him your way, okay?”

  I nodded. There wasn’t much else I could do but wait.