Page 21 of You Belong With Me

As she said those words, Edie realised that this might in fact be the bittersweet part, not the topless snogging. Goodbye to Elliot moving back here for another five years, at least.

An inner voice, Margot’s voice, whispered:He never was going to, darling.

‘This response is beyond my wildest dreams,’ Elliot said. ‘Notto the sex. To be honest, I was half hoping you would object because I’m shitting myself about doing that justice. The rest of it.’

‘Only thing is, did you ever read the memoir by Robert Evans, the Hollywood producer? He said he deserved to lose Ali MacGraw because he left her on her own to make a filmwith Steve McQueen,’ Edie said. ‘As in: what was obviously going to happen?’

‘Right …’ Elliot said, smiling at her with starry eyes. She’d forgotten how easy it was to impress even enlightened men by reading the books that they did.

‘Am I freely and foolhardily letting you makeThe Getawaywith Steve McQueen?’

Elliot gazed at her with a look of purest adoration that was as much reassurance as anything he was about to say. ‘I’ve got no interest in anyone I work with in that way – none. But the only thing that can really prove that to you is my word, plus time.’

Edie nodded. She had unfortunately figured out that only by this becoming something she was used to would it ever not be intimidating.

‘I’m so thrilled you like it, you know. Now I’m making this show for you,’ Elliot said.

He looked up at her under his brow, with dark eyes. He must be fully aware of his effect and unfair advantages in that moment.

‘Is Fraser definitely not coming back today?’ Edie asked.

‘No …?’ Elliot said.

‘I’ve got an idea.’

She led him upstairs by the hand to the bedroom.

‘OK, you can sit down there.’ She gestured at the bed.

Edie climbed onto Elliot, pushing him backwards and pinning him down by the wrists.

‘Tell me youcan’t stand the disregard that I show to everyone, most of all, to me. No, actually, most of all, towards YOURSELF.’

Elliot was both laughing and muttering, ‘What the fuck?’ under his breath.

‘Say it! I want you to be FUMING.’

‘In a British accent or the American one?’

Some time later, they lay side by side, staring up together at the skylight, in a sort of stoned haze.

‘I mean,’ Elliot said, eventually, ‘There’s taking it well, and then whatever that was.’

11

Waiting for host to start the meeting

Edie tapped her fingers as her apprehensiveness prickled. Elliot had passed on her number to his publicist, and here she was, him now Stateside, her still struggling to understand why this was necessary. Her laptop was on her old make-up table in her bedroom, and she was praying Meg didn’t noisily slam the front door below when she came in from her Sunday shift shouting ‘MY MANAGER IS A FULL SHITEHAWK’, mid-meeting.

She’d reminded Meg, but Meg sometimes respected society’s norms and other times decided society needed Megging up a bit.

Ping.

Elliot’s publicist Lillian sprang into full-screen life. She was fifty-something, dark-haired, with shrewd eyes behind large black-framed glasses, and had the white shirt and minimal jewellery look of the tastefully wealthy.

She reminded Edie a little of the make-up artist Bobbi Brown, except she seemed more likely to read Edie her Miranda rights than recommend she contour her nose.

‘Hi! Edie?’ she boomed.

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