Nate flips onto his front and nudges himself between my legs.
I might have missed out on some of the usual traditions, but this new one he’s starting blows everything else out of the water.
An hour later, I arrive outside Newbridge Castle dressed in the ridiculously short waitress outfit, hovering at the edge of the film set. Nate left ten minutes ahead of me to disguise the fact we spent all night, and morning, joined at the hips.
The snow machine is in full force and the scene before me looks like the front of a Christmas card. There are people everywhere. Cameras. Lighting. Actors. Extras. The place is buzzing with activity.
Nerves twist my stomach. The urge to vomit presses up my throat. My anxiety is back in full force.
What am I doing here?
I’m supposed to be in hiding.
I don’t belong here.
I don’t belong anywhere at the moment.
Turn. Run. It’s not too late to back out.
Nate is back in his cashmere ensemble, glaring at his stunning co-star, Olivia Hansen-Lovett. I’ve seen a few of her movies, but she doesn’t invoke the same star-struck awe in me that Nate stirs up. And she was mean to Tootsie.
As if he senses my arrival, Nate’s thick neck snaps in my direction. When his eyes land on mine, his entire expression transforms. His face lights up brighter than all the bulbs on the castle’s sixteen-foot Christmas tree. He strides across the white frost-dusted ground, but someone else reaches me first.
‘Holly.’ Max sounds almost relieved to see me.
Nate eyes Max warily, then drops a quick but territorial kiss on my cheek. ‘Thank you for doing this. I owe you big time.’
‘You all set?’ Max’s palm lands on the small of my back and Nate’s eyes narrow to slits.
I sidestep out of Max’s reach, towards Nate. ‘Guys, I’m really not sure about this. I’ve never done anything like this before and I…’ My protest dies on my tongue as Nate’s huge eyes almost drown me.
‘Please, Holly.’
Fuck my life. ‘What do I have to do?’
‘The production crew will fill you in. You won’t have any lines. Just carry out plates of food and drinks. There’s one scene where a waitress walks in on the two MCs kissing.’
Shit. I forgot I’d have to watch Nate kissing somebody else. My stomach churns. Like he can read my mind, he offers a small vigorous head shake as if to say, ‘Tell me about it’.
Thank God it’s a Hallmark movie and not something X-rated.
‘Nate, over here,’ one of the camera crew calls. Nate grabs my hand and offers it a grateful squeeze before jogging towards the camera.
Swivelling on my feet, I turn to Max. ‘Do I have to show my face?’
‘Trust that I’m saying this in the nicest possible way. No one will be looking at your face.’ Max arches his eyebrows knowingly.
Fuck.
He’s seen the video. He knows. He’s seen my boobs. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
‘I er…’
‘Three grand a week,’ Max reminds me.
‘Fine.’
And just like that, I’ve transitioned from teacher, to laughingstock, to actress (though I’m under no illusion that I’m still a laughingstock).
