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The saleswoman ran his card, and just like that, I was the owner of an extremely expensive winter wardrobe. Jeremy took the bags before I could, carrying them out to his car like it was nothing.
“Thank you,” I said as we loaded everything into the trunk of his Mercedes. “Seriously. You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.” He closed the trunk and turned to me. “Besides, I can’t have my manager freezing to death on set. Who would keep me in line?”
“Sebastian, probably.”
“Sebastian would murder me within the first hour.”
“Valid point.”
“Okay, what next?” he asked. “Think cold. Think really fucking cold.”
I groaned. “I’m trying not to think about the cold.”
“Let’s get some new sunglasses. The kind for snow.”
“Goggles? You want us to wear snow goggles.”
He frowned. “No. Remember that shoot I did… last year, I think. Those badass sunglasses for snowboarders.”
I didn’t remember. A year ago and how many campaigns?
But there was no stopping the man. We ended up with sunglasses that promised to keep us from being snow-blind. Then he drove us to some outdoor store with ski equipment. He loaded up like we were going to be stranded in the wilderness.
He drove me home, navigating the LA traffic with the casual confidence of someone who’d grown up in this city. I stared out the window, watching the palm trees and sunshine blur past, and tried not to think about the fact that in less than a week, I’d be trading all of this for snow and ice and temperatures I couldn’t even imagine.
“What are you in your head about?” he asked when the traffic came to a stop in yet another jam.
I sighed. “I’m just nervous. What if I’m miserable the whole time? You seem excited about this whole thing and I don’t want to rain on your parade, but it’s going to be so cold.”
He glanced over at me, his expression softening. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll take care of you.”
I laughed, but it came out a little shaky. “You’ll take care of me? Jeremy, I’m the one who takes care of you. That’s literally my job.”
“Well, maybe it’s time for a role reversal.” He reached over and squeezed my hand briefly before returning it to the wheel. “I’ve got you, Lucy. I promise.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did but I could not afford a broken leg. God, what if I broke my hip?
He pulled up to my building and helped me carry the bags up to my apartment like the gentleman his mother raised him to be.
“Alright, don’t spin out,” he said at the door. “It’s going to be a blast.”
“Oh, yes, a blast of arctic air. If I get frostbite, I will be so pissed.”
He winked. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and cozy. No Jack Frost nipping at your nose.”
After he left, I poured myself a glass of wine and started the process of removing tags. I tried very hard not to think about the trip to the arctic north and what it would feel like to be perpetually cold.
Liquor. I hoped there was an abundance of liquor to warm me from the inside out.
6
JEREMY
My parents’ estate was home. I had my own house, but when I got time off, home was where I needed to visit at least once to get a full reset.
I grabbed the bottle of wine I’d brought. Lucy had picked it out for me because apparently I couldn’t be trusted to select my own gift. She had sent a whole case of wine to my house for me to use as hostess gifts whenever needed. I headed for the front door and didn’t bother knocking. Nobody knocked at family dinner.
