Page 42 of The Actor and His Secret

He doesn’t know, I remind myself. Everything’s fine.

‘Yes,’ I breathe, leaning forward so our foreheads are touching. ‘Thank you for standing up for me. You didn’t need to do that.’

‘Always,’ Nikos growls, his broad palm cupping the back of my head, holding me close. ‘And I did, and would again.’

I wish it was true. I feel like I’m going to cry, sitting there, because he’s famous and gorgeous and rich and he’s leaving. He’s never been mine, no matter how he’d looked when we were fucking. No matter if I’d sworn that there was something else in his eyes beyond just passion.

There’s never going to be anything else in his eyes when he looks at me. We’re not going to have a lifetime of these mornings. This is just a little gift from the universe to get me back on my feet. A little test, to see if I can stand up to Geoff for good and make him get the fuck out of my life.

I don’t correct Nikos, though. I just throw my arms around him, and let myself be held until breakfast comes, and Nikos unwinds my grip so that he can answer the door and keep indulging in our little fantasy, where we’re together and eating breakfast and spending a quiet weekend with each other.

Even if the watch currently hidden in my bathroom cabinet tells a totally different story.

16

NIKOS

I hate leaving Oli. The more we spend time with each other, the tighter the band holding us together gets. I fear it will break soon enough. It’s going to snap and sever when I get back on that plane to New York and leave this pocket of peace behind.

It’s early afternoon and the weather has taken a turn. Outside the radio station’s narrow window, early spring rain is lashing against the glass. Although the room is soundproofed, every time Selina comes in and out, I catch the tell-tale rumble of thunder.

‘And that is it, ladies and gentlemen, our delicious dive into Nikos Ridge.’ The presenter speak with the cadence of someone constantly high on life. It’s both infectious and rather annoying. ‘Before we sign off on Radio Unlimited 404, can you give our listeners one bit of advice that you wished someone told you sooner?’

I sit in stunned silence, wanting nothing more than to leave the building, clamber back into my driver’s car, and forge my path back to Oli. But alas, I have a job to do. And if Selina is going to let me enjoy my final days in London, I need to be in her good books.

‘Um…Well…’

‘Nikos Ridge may slay dragons in his personal time, but he is utterly lost for words. Is this a first? I think this is a first?’

He is a man in his mid-forties, with a balding head and tired eyes. He’s dressed in something I’d imagine a teenager would wear - an over-sized basketball jersey and faded jeans. His headphones balance on his head, one ear covered and the other exposed.

Right now, I’d like nothing more than to reach over the small desk and throttle him.

‘It’s called thinking before you speak, Jim. You should give it a go.’

Selina shots me a sharp eye, but I deliver my retort with a brilliant smile and a bit of a laugh so Jim, the radio DJ, can’t complain. In fact, he rocks back in his chair and gives the most obnoxious laugh I’ve ever heard.

‘Careful, Nikos. Or was that Armin speaking through you?’

‘All I will say is, be thankful I’m not a method actor.’ Otherwise I’d be using a huge-ass sword to cleave his head off.

Jim raises his hands in surrender and tells his audio listeners exactly what he’s doing to create the scene. ‘Now, about that bit of advice.’

I’ve never been any good at being put on the spot. Hell, I don’t even like being in the spotlight. But I close my eyes and imagine the question coming from another mouth - I imagine it’s Oli asking me, and the answer comes quickly.

‘When life gives you honey…’ I pause, smiling at the image of his face, and what I did with that face last night. ‘Lick the entire pot clean.’

The studio erupts in cheers and claps, and the show is taken off the air. The moment the red light on the ‘live’ box turns off, Jim sheds the over-the-top attitude and slumps in his chair. A cigarette is in his mouth in seconds, the small space filling with the acrid smell of tobacco and smoke.

‘That’ll be our cue to leave,’ Selina says, pinching her nose as she guides me to the door. As we leave, she hands me back my phone. I flick the screen on, hopeful that I’ll see a text from Oli telling me he had listened. He’d said he was going for a walk when we finished breakfast, and that he’d tune in. I hope he missed the rain. But my phone screen shows nothing from him. Only one missed call - from that unknown number again.

Father.

If it wasn’t for Selina, I would’ve walked into a wall. She takes my elbow, guiding me through the shabby offices until we reach the street beyond. I hear her speak about no more engagements, and how we can spend our final five days in London in the spa. I’m sure she even mentions something about Oli’s colleague Megan. But all I can think about it the missed call.

As if starring at the screen conjures my father into existence, the phone buzzes in my hand and a new unknown call fills my screen.

‘I need to take this,’ I say, pulling away from Selina as she begins to climb into the car.

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