She was right about the granny social media presence. One of my interns did the social media for our section, and I rarely made an appearance. So much so, Isla told me some readers had a Reddit threat that was a sort of Where’s Waldo, piecing together what I actually looked like.
I was a behind-the-scenes person, and I wanted it to stay that way. Unlike Tim, who was born to be in front of the camera. Seemingly without effort, he innately understood what to post, and it was always off-the-cuff, taking the piss, on the move, and rough.
She tied my hair in a loose braid over my shoulder, but with that artfully messy look I could not have achieved on my own.
After a half hour of primping, she looked at me in the mirror and patted my shoulders. “There. Beautiful.”
I gazed into the mirror at someone who looked dewier than she had a right to. “Thank you, Poppy. You’ve worked miracles.”
She turned to grab an outfit. It was a matching floral blouse and skirt in my usual Liberty fabric. “I want to make sure you can move around and work and feel and look good too.”
I changed behind the screen. The skirt had a shirred, defined waist, much more flattering than what I normally wore, only considerably shorter. But it felt familiar, and I was comfortable in it. Instinctively, though, I tied the bow tight around my neck.
“Bend over,” Poppy said after I emerged from behind the screen.
I could feel my eyes widen.
“Sorry. I’m not being pervy, honest. We need to make sure it’s a workable length.”
I liked this woman.
“Picking up a bucket, very, very glamorously,” I said, bending over. “How’s it looking?”
“No knicker sightings,” Poppy said triumphantly, and we chuckled together. “You need some sturdy footwear. I have some very cute Merry boots.”
“Yes, good idea.”
I told her my size, she brought out some coral boots, and charmed, I pulled them on.
“May I?” She twiddled her fingers at my neckline as though she wanted to make adjustments, and I nodded. She opened a few buttons, plucked the bow tie loose, and tied it lower. Not as buttoned-up as I usually liked to be, but still, I felt free and put together.
“I like it,” I said. “It’s more fun than what I normally wear, but practical.”
“I’ve got you,” she said, winking. “You can count on me. Oops, a little bit needed on the hair. Hey, sweetie,” she said through the hairpins in her mouth. “Trystan informed me that you and Tim definitely have history. C’mon, spill. It goes no further than Trystan and me.”
I wiggled, flustered. Holding my gaze in the mirror, Poppy squeezed my shoulders. She seemed so understanding, and maybe I wanted to talk about my past with Tim with someone.
“We were best friends as kids, spent every second we could together. Then we lost touch during high school when I was sent to boarding school in Switzerland.” I grimaced at the memory of that dreadful place. “After I finished my architecture degree, I came home to stay with Mum and Dad and apply for jobs in London. On the first day back, I met Tim in the supermarket.”
I swiveled gently, dreamily, on my chair, and went on. “I was dumb struck by how gorgeous he was, but then we endedup walking through the aisles for absolutely ages, joking about groceries. He asked me to meet at the pub that night. I’m shy, and I was nervous about meeting his friends—whenever I’d seen him through the years, he was always surrounded by people—so I almost didn’t turn up. But he was sitting by the fire, waiting by himself. We laughed all night about all our good times as kids. Next day, he turned up at the house at lunchtime with my favorite bread and cheeses. Then we met after his work and walked for hours through the places we’d played as kids—the river, the meadows, the forest, and talked and talked. For two weeks, we spent every minute together that he wasn’t working. It was a wonderful, hot, dry summer, a magical time.”
“Oh.” She smiled. “That man was smitten. So, when was your first kiss?”
I smiled at the thought. “Not for two whole weeks. Our shoulders and hands kept brushing together. We shared lots of intense, lingering glances. Then one day, we were sitting by the riverbank and I got a ping on my phone—a job offer from the most prestigious architecture firm in London. He gave me a huge congratulatory hug…and it turned into our first kiss. It was—” I sighed at the memory “—God, it was nothing I’d ever felt before. He said,I’ve fallen in love with you.I can’t do without you now.I told him I felt the same. We walked back to Mum and Dad’s hand in hand. We were both living with our parents, and after we talked, he called the local inn for dinner and to stay over. He said we were starting our new life together that night, and he couldn’t wait. Then he left to change and grab his toiletries. He never came back.”
She gasped. “Oh my God. What happened?”
“Tabitha, you are needed on set, toot sweet,” Freya called through the door, amid an impatient rhythm like she was tapping her pen on her clipboard.
Relief washed over me that I was interrupted.Rehashing history isn’t healthy because I have to work with Tim.
Poppy squeezed my shoulder, turned Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” up loud and started dancing as I left for the shoot, more positive than I’d felt in years.
“You’ve become stale, Tabitha. You only ever talk about work and people I don’t really like.”Perry’s words were not going to affect my mood. Yes, it had been a rough twenty-four hours, but this morning had been fun.
I was newly single—notdumped. That was going to be my motto. Surely the rest of my day would continue getting better.
12
