She winced, stopped pedaling then sighed. Bastard has me listening to arias when I work out now.
The next unexpected reminder of her fake boyfriend’s impact on her life was seeing his car in front of her apartment building. She stared at first, second-guessing her 20/20 vision. It couldn’t be his car, but it was. She knew he was in Auckland—he and two players from other clubs had been featured in today’s papers—so the last person she expected to see inside was Tim. He had his cap lowered, and he looked asleep.
Neela knocked sharply on the driver’s side window. “Oi!”
Tim cursed, his eyes wild. He glared at her as he lowered the window. “I know you could have woken me up in a less shocking manner.”
“Why are you here?”
Tim reached over to the passenger seat, picked up a small brown paper bag and handed it to Neela. She turned her head slightly, suspicious but curious as she pulled open the bag. Eyebrows raised, she picked up part of its contents and stared at the pink and yellow foil wrapper. “You’re delivering Choc Cherries? For me?”
Tim shook his head and yawned. “Yes. From Blake. He said he’s sorry. He’s also worried since you haven’t returned his calls.”
She leaned on the car window. “You’re a Ph.D. candidate at the university. I think I read somewhere that you’re supposed to be one of the great minds of our country. Why are you running errands for a rugby player?”
“I’m not. I’m doing a friend a favor.”
“That’s quite a favor.”
“He’s not in the habit of asking. The last favor he asked was for a room at the Meriton last year.” Tim raised his eyebrows to emphasize his next point. “For you.”
Neela sighed. “Okay. You’ve delivered the lollies. You can go now.”
“Why aren’t you going to your sister’s for Christmas?”
Neela’s jaw dropped. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Mano sent me a message.”
Neela walked away before she could hear more. She had reached the security door of her building when she paused and looked over her shoulder to see Tim still watching her. She shook her head slightly, annoyed at herself for what she was going to do next.
“You hungry?” she yelled out.
Tim was out of the car before she could blink.
He insisted on making a salad to accompany the sandwiches she offered. After they ate, she held out Blake’s bag of apologies.
Tim studied the wrapped chocolate in his hand. “He really likes you, Neela. I’ve never seen him so confused.”
“We’re friends. That’s it.”
“You two look like you’re having fun on your dates.”
Neela pointed a finger at Tim. “This was all your idea. You were there when we agreed to make it all up. It’s all pretend.”
Tim shrugged. “He asked me to pick up a bag of your favorite lollies. The scientist in me considers this credible proof that whatever he feels for you is not fake.”
“It needs to be,” Neela said softly. “I’m not good for him. We’re not good for each other. He needs someone who can be there for him, to take care of him. I have to take care of myself.”
“He’s one of the best people I know, Neela.”
There was a tenderness in Tim’s tone that made Neela look up. Tim took off his glasses and wiped them with the bottom of his shirt. “He was the first person I came out to. I don’t know why, but I knew he’d never judge me.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“No.” Tim smiled indulgently. “But I do love him. He insisted on coming with me when I decided to tell my family I’m gay. I’ll never forget Mitch’s face. He automatically looked at Blake as if Blake had had something to do with it. But Blake didn’t turn away. He didn’t deny anything. He just stared Mitch down, as if he was daring my brother to say something. I’ll never forget that moment. Blake confronted his childhood hero, a man he admires and worships, for me. So, if you’re at all wondering how to stop him from caring about you, let me just say he’s going to, whether or not you want those feelings.”
Neela buried her head in her hands. “We’re too different.”
Tim snorted. “I beg to differ. You two are more alike than you think, but I’m not going to argue with you. Think what you want. I know what I see. But, hey, if you don’t have any plans for Christmas...”
“I’m all right. Why does everyone think I need to be with people on Christmas? I’m just fine being alone, thank you very much.”
“How about Boxing Day? Mitch throws a barbie every year. Come on. Mano usually goes to that, but since he’s away, you can represent the family.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Here’s your chance to talk to Mitch Molloy, Connor Dane and Liana Murphy. Consider it research in preparation for the next tournament. Two rugby legends and the woman who brought New Zealand to the top ten of football’s world ranking. Sports royalty, Neela.” Tim grinned, waggling his eyebrows rapidly.
She smiled reluctantly. “Thank you, but...”
“Blake’s bringing Lulu, so she’ll distract him from focusing only on you,” he added.
Neela shot him a look as she leaned back in her chair. It could be their fourth date. Then only one more to go, and they could go back to things as they had been—connected but not involved. And slowly, she could get used to not having his hand to hold.
As if sensing her hesitation, Tim stood up to leave. “Good. I’ll let Mitch and Liana know. But will you please call Blake? His messages are clogging up my phone. I’ll see you next week at the shoot.”
“What? Are you going to be there?”
Tim nodded as he reached for the door handle. “Oh, yeah. You tackling Blake, and it’s going to be documented for all eternity? I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Maybe you’re not quite the best friend Blake thinks you are.”
Tim smiled as he headed out the door. “Someone has to keep him grounded. And Neela, this thing between you and Blake—don’t think about it too much, eh? Trust your feelings.”
After clearing the dishes, Neela brought her laptop to the dining table. She paused, then typed “Blake and Neela” into the search engine.
Within seconds, a list of articles and links to images appeared. She scrolled through them and marveled at how one short month of ‘dating’ could generate so much attention. Leila had mentioned seeing Neela and Blake featured in various magazines, but Neela hadn’t bothered looking. Seeing herself in print was something she avoided, anyway.
But there it was, a history of their relationship going back to the video of when they were twelve: pictures of them at his parents’ party, pictures of her visiting him on Club grounds, them at the Esplanade, and with Lulu eating ice cream.
Neela clicked to Blake’s public Twitter account. He had half a million followers. Her eyes widened when she saw his latest tweet, posted just fifteen minutes ago.
He was standing at a sports shop with excited fans surrounding him. All of them were holding up the latest line of rugby kits for the Club. He’d tweeted,
@BlakeNZRug: Would a certain beautiful rugby player like this for Christmas?
Neela scrolled down through the responses. Most said yes, some said no. Then she caught Leila’s reaction:
@LeilaF_Rugby: Yes, but add something sparkling that comes in a small box!
Her tweet had garnered a thousand heart emojis. Neela laughed at her flatmate’s audacity. Everybody believed this relationship between her and Blake. She scrolled farther, then stopped at the picture Blake had taken which had started this whole thing. She looked relaxed, happy, and content.
She sighed. What was going on with her? This was supposed to be a simple way to pay back a favor. So why did it feel like she’d been on an emotional rollercoaster with no end in sight?
She reached for her phone and began to type a message. Then she changed her mind and instead pressed the call button for Blake.
“Darl?”
She pursed h
er lips to stop from smiling, but that didn’t stop the warmth that was growing within her. “You really need to stop calling me that.”
“Can’t help it. It’s what I think for you.”
“Thanks for the lollies.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”
“Are you still at the promo?”
“Stepped away for a bit. How did you know?”
“Saw your Twitter feed. I don’t need a new kit, by the way.”
Blake laughed. “Okay. No kit.”
“Or anything sparkling in a small black box.”
“Tin of Milo?”
It was her turn to laugh. “That will do.”
“I’ll call when I get back.”
“I’ll just see you at the school field.”
“I can pick you up.”
“No need. I was going to spend the night at Rieann’s. We’ll head to the school together.”
“Did she manage to get a role as an extra?”
“Yeah. Honestly, the way she was going on about it, you’d think she was going to be the star of the ad.”
Blake laughed, and this time she didn’t stop the smile that settled on her face.
“Are we good?”
Neela sighed. “Yes.”
“Then good night, darl.”
“Good night, Blake.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A week later, after dinner, Trey shooed her out of the kitchen. “It’s nice outside. Why don’t you and Rieann take your tea outside? I’ll have the kids finish up here. They always behave better when their famous aunty visits.”
“They’re good kids, Trey,” Neela said.
“Yeah, well, like I said, when their aunty visits. David! Jennie! Dishes!”
Rieann wrapped her arms around Trey’s waist. “Thanks, darl. Dinner was good. Interesting salad.”
Trey kissed Rieann quickly. “Keeping it clean and raw.”
“Kids didn’t like it.”
“Tough.”
Neela grabbed a bowl of fruit from the counter and followed her sister, who carried a tray with their tea, to the back of the house. The sky was just turning a deep orange as the sisters sat on the cold concrete steps that led to a large backyard.
Neela held the warmed mug in her hands, her eyes drawn to the changing canvas of color above them. “Remember how Mum would have us do this? Just sit out in the backyard and watch the day disappear?”
Rieann nodded and took a sip from her mug. “Yeah, just her and her girls.”
“I don’t remember us talking.”
“We didn’t need to,” Rieann said. “Being together was what that was about.”
“She sometimes sang.”
“Yeah. Always badly.”
Neela bowed her head slightly as a chuckle escaped. “You’re right there. Mum couldn’t quite carry a tune.”
“Remember how Dad tried to look like he enjoyed it at Christmas time?”
“Yeah.” Neela looked at the dark brew in her hands before she faced Rieann. “He did love her, didn’t he?”
Rieann took a deep breath. “He did, very much. In falling in love again, he kept his promise to Mum. She asked him to do what she’d asked you, me, Joe and Sam to do, to keep living after she died.”
“It didn’t take him long, though.”
“I think he knew what he’d lost. And when a chance to be happy appeared again, he didn’t think twice. He took it.” Rieann sipped her tea. “Dad’s always trusted his feelings. It’s served him well for most of his life.”
Neela exhaled. “What if Dad and I can’t ever get along again, Rieann? He hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you. You’re his child. He’ll always love you. Now, the two of you getting on—who knows, eh? But you showing up for the party, that was important. It’s what families do. We’re there for the important stuff.”
“How does he feel about you taking the day off for the filming tomorrow?”
Rieann grinned. “Not happy, but I’m entitled to my shot at fame. Speaking of which, it’s best we turn in soon. Are you supposed to check in as early as us extras?”
“Six?”
“Yeah. You sure you don’t want to drive up with me?”
“I’m good.”
“Not grabbing a lift with Blake?”
Neela knew that wasn’t really the question Rieann was asking. “It’s complicated.”
Her sister squeezed her shoulder as she rose. “Only if you want it to be,” Rieann said softly.
The next morning, despite leaving the house and arriving on time, they were far from the first to reach the school.
“Wow! This is bigger than I expected,” Rieann said as they walked toward the field. Local police were directing traffic, and pop-up tents were everywhere. The crew was busy setting up and checking expensive looking gear and equipment. Every other person seemed to have a clipboard or wore headphones.
“I guess I go there,” said Rieann. She pointed to a tent that had a handwritten sign which said EXTRAS propped on a chair. “I’ll see you later? Good luck. You’ll do fine.”
Neela cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders, scanning the other tents for an idea of where she should go. Her eyes finally settled on Scott, who was standing near the entrance to the field with a phone to his ear.
He smiled when he saw her. “Neela! Right on time!” He kissed her on the cheek. “Let me introduce you to Martin Walker, the director. You’ve read the script?”
“Yeah. Seems easy enough, especially since I don’t have to say anything.”
“They just want your face, sweetheart.”
“Scott, if we’re going to work together after this, you need to know that I don’t go by ‘sweetheart.’ My name will do.”
Scott blinked. “Understood. Sorry. It wasn’t meant as disrespect.”
“None taken, but I’m glad we’re clear on it.”
“Neela!”
Both of them turned to see Blake walking toward them. Tim was a few steps behind him, a thermos in one hand. He waved at Neela with the other.
“I love it when you’re punctual, mate,” Scott said.
Blake ignored his agent and leaned in toward Neela. She met him halfway, placing her hands on his shoulders. “You smell good, darl,” he whispered before grazing his lips softly against her cheek.
She smiled before glaring at a smirking Tim. “What’s your problem? Loads of people are watching us, and we’re still supposed to be dating,” she hissed.
“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Neela.” Tim chuckled.
Scott ushered Blake and Neela toward a short, bespectacled man wearing a wide-brimmed hat that had seen better days. He looked up from his clipboard when they got close. “Ah, here’s the two stars! You’re on time. Good. I’m Martin Walker. I take it you’ve both seen the script? No questions? Good, good. We’ll film the scene at the picnic bench first. Should be simple enough. Just smile like you’re in love. Yeah? Good. All the extras should be ready in about an hour. But before makeup, Matt over there will go through the choreography for the tackle-scene.”
“Pardon?” “Choreography?” Neela and Blake asked in unison.
“That wasn’t discussed,” Blake said. “What’s wrong with her really tackling me?”
“There’ll be a tackle, but...”
“It won’t be real,” Blake finished.
Simultaneously, Neela and Blake folded their arms across their chests. She tilted her head slightly. “You’re the director, and this is your commercial. But I don’t think we need someone to show us how to tackle without getting hurt.”
“Look, we can’t really choreograph this,” Blake said. “People who have seen us play will know we’re holding back.”
“Your ankle—,” Scott interrupted, his forehead furrowed.
“Is fine. If I can’t handle a tackle I know is coming, then I have no business getting back on the pitch.” Blake turned to Neela. “You’re up to do this for real, aren’t you? Like when we w
ere twelve.”
“No worries. Like when we were twelve.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Scott said. “We should stick to the choreography. The writers...”
“Scott, any rugby fan watching this will know if I gave her the tackle,” Blake said. “You need to do better research on your clients, mate.” He nodded at her, his dimple appearing. “This isn’t your ordinary rugby player. This is Neela Smyth. She doesn’t let anyone just pass her.”
He said it as a statement of fact. He believed in her capabilities, in her strength, in her determination.
She could no longer deny that here in front of her was someone who truly cared for her. But she didn’t want to be important to him. Not Blake, because she could easily fall in love with someone who believed in her so completely.
She couldn’t go down that road again, so it was up to her to make sure she could control whatever this was. She needed to be responsible, to keep things simple between them. Like when they were kids.
She shook her head. “Just friends,” she whispered to herself.
“Pardon? Did you say something?”
“No.”
“What’s the matter? The fire’s died down in those pretty eyes, Neela.” Blake took a step closer to her, ensuring that their conversation would remain private. “You’ve taken down bigger women than me. You know it’s not about the size.”
Neela looked up. “It’s about the technique and the heart.”
His smile widened. “Mano?”
“Who else?” She returned his smile.
“Well, whether it’s choreographed or not, it doesn’t affect too much of what I do,” Martin said. “Let me know what you two think could happen for this shot. I’ll decide if it will work with what Pastall’s are looking for. Fair enough? Why don’t we get you both to makeup, and we’ll start with the other scenes?”
What would be less than twenty seconds of screen time took a couple of hours to shoot. There was the shot of them walking off the field together and approaching the picnic tables. Then there was the scene of someone placing the Pastall lollies in front of them, ending with Blake unwrapping one and offering it to her. It was simple enough on paper, but Martin proved to be a stickler for details.
Always You Page 19