Page 7 of Just for December

‘Time,’ he repeats. ‘I’m not mad so much as … sad. I wish it could have been different.’

‘I know,’ she agrees. ‘But I also know there’s a huge love out there for you, far bigger and brighter and happier than anything we could have had. I’m never wrong …’

Duke rolls his eyes in spite of himself.

‘On this occasion,’ he admits. ‘I really hope not.’

‘I’ve got a feeling,’ Daphne tells him, standing up to leave, ‘that a great love is right around the corner for you.’

5

Evie

Evie hears his arrival at the team meeting before she sees anything of him. The small crowd of surprisingly middle-aged women who had assembled by the doors of their hotel start to murmur and then whoop, crescendoing with cries ofDuke! Duke!as he (presumably) exits the lift that faces directly onto the glass-fronted exit.

They probably think he’s leaving the hotel again – and she can hear the disappointed mumbles as he instead swerves into the very room she’s sitting in. Sat around a large table in a space just off the hotel lobby that’s been designated to the crew for meetings, Evie half-cranes her neck before turning back to her coffee as he enters. She spoons the foam into her mouth and arranges her features into as disinterested a portrait as she can manage. Celebrity does not faze her. Being here, in this circus, does not faze her. She’s supposedto be at home in Utah, working on her next book, her only concerns being Doctor Dolittle’s two daily walks and whether to use the ristretto coffee capsule in her Nespresso or the Treviso.

All of this is the opposite of what makes her heart sing. Evie truly believes that wanting to be famous is akin to a mental dysfunction. She doesn’t even use a recent photo of herself on her books anymore, such is her desire to stay under the radar. Evie Bird likes to craft stories that sell, pick up her paycheque, and then get on with her life unencumbered. She loves her work but won’t be defined by it, and honestly thinks it’s unsettling when people are. When did everyone get job titles over personalities?

‘Hey, Duke, my main man, welcome,’ says Marnie, the head of production, as the noise outside peaks and then suddenly stops. Duke is surprisingly small, Evie thinks. Hasn’t she heard that somewhere? That most actors are shorter than we assume? But God, heishandsome: all sharp jawline and honed, glistening arms. That much is undeniable.

Evie doesn’t get up, and catches the eye of Daphne, the film’s female lead, who also remains seated, casting her gaze down guiltily at her hands. She looks up just in time for her to spot that Evie is watching and gives an embarrassed half-smile. Evie gives a half-smile back.

‘Evening all,’ Duke says, pulling off a baseball cap and running a hand through his infamously shaggy locks. He’s very aware of himself, Evie thinks, watching him as he greets everyone individually and by name – even Daphne. Though she doesn’t pay much attention to the headlines, Evie has been filled in about the Daphne-Duke-Director love triangleby the director of photography, who – in the space of one afternoon – has thawed Evie’s resolve not to make any friends. Katerina, her name is. Evie has decided she’ll be her one ally. She can get through the next three weeks with one ally, easy.

‘Oh goodness,’ Duke says then, finally reaching her. Evie stands, in spite of herself. She doesn’t want to appear deferential or star-struck, but to stay seated would be outright rude. He’s actually taller than she thought at first, so she’s tipping her chin upwards to see him. And those eyes? Okay, fine. Evie can understand why those eyes get talked about like he’s the second coming. But she gets the sense that he knows that too. How can he not? The only thing worse than the trouble a handsome man brings is a handsome man who knows it. That’sdoublethe trouble.

‘Evie? Honestly, can I please tell you right now, I am an incredibly huge fan of yours. I’m so honoured to be able to feature in this adaptation. Truly.’ Duke puts his hand to his chest then, as if his heart cannot lie. Evie understands that in showbiz blowing smoke up one another’s self-congratulatory asses is par for the course, so she magnanimously chooses not to test him on his alleged fandom and instead tells him he’s very kind. She wants this over as quickly as possible.

‘I can tell you don’t believe me,’ he says, doubling down. ‘But seriously, I’ve read all of your books. All sixteen of them. I even haveHalf Your Lifeon preorder for next May,’ he adds, referring to her next release. He must have had his people create a crib sheet on her or something, charming her in case she can be useful to him at some point.

‘Well,’ Evie says, not breaking the eye contact this manseems hellbent on maintaining. ‘I’m afraid I’d never heard of you before all this.’

Everyone laughs like it’s a joke, because, as Evie now knows, Duke is one of the most bankable and lusted-after stars in Hollywood – apparently all that English self-depreciation and the dazzling blue-eyed thing have charmed both his home country and hers. He did a remake of10 Things I Hate About You, Magda had explained, with a topless scene coming out of a swimming pool that was made into a meme that went viral. Evie doesn’t run her own social media because she has to write two books a year and has found that when you write about love and matters of the heart, people like to confide in you. It’s a burden she has no bandwidth for right now, not with everything else in her life – her mother, her father, the shopping habit that she really ought to sort out soon … the list goes on. She’d gotten in trouble with her publisher for going on a podcast and admitting that she doesn’t even believe in love, and that anyone who messages her for advice is barking up the wrong tree in terms of a sympathetic ear. But nobody here knows any of this, of course, and assume she’s as much of a fan as the next girl – and as much of a romantic as the next girl, too.

‘Never heard of me? Well, pleased to hear it.’ Duke grins, apparently assuming it’s a joke too. ‘Ghastly business, all this. Ego central, you see.’ Evie notices the straightness of his teeth, their bright white colour.I thought the English didn’t have good teeth,she muses, surprising herself that she knows anything about British dentistry. Where has she been keeping that useless titbit?

Evie exhales as everyone takes a seat, and puts in anotherdrink order – nobody has alcohol, so Evie doesn’t order any either. She takes another coffee. She’ll order a red wine up to her room later, she thinks, or maybe a bottle. She feels eyes on the back of her head and turns to see Duke has picked the spot right behind her shoulder. He smiles at her. She looks away.

‘So here we are,’ Marnie begins. ‘Welcome to part two ofOn the Romantic Road.Internal shots at Pinewood were a massive success, and that’s in no small part because of the source material Evie Bird wrote – welcome, Evie, to the continuation of our little movie shoot here.’

Everyone titters, because the little movie shoot is costing twenty-five million dollars, give or take, and one by one the folks around the room give Evie a little nod of acknowledgement. She feels compelled to pipe up: ‘Veronique did a great job with the script. It’s all her.’ They applaud Veronique, even though she’s not here. Apparently she had a disagreement with the director and refused to fly in – or so Katerina said. Evie doesn’t know her personally, but they did have a couple of Skype calls as Veronique worked on the adaptation. Evie wasn’t precious about it – she gave her express permission for the practised screenwriter to take whatever creative licence she needed to.

‘We’re already in editing with what we have, since, as you know the promotion of the movie has been moved up to capture the summer preview circuit for a big Thanksgiving release. We’d also like to capitalise on the fact thatOn the Romantic Roadhas just entered theNew York Timesbestseller list at number three, which is, I believe, the highest charting you’ve had yet, Evie, right?’

Evie did not know this. She fights the urge to grab her phone from where it is face-down on the table beside her, to check her emails and see if her agent or editor can verify. Has a five-year-old book really gone into the chart? That feels impossible. Instead, she just offers a brief nod. She doesn’t want to create a scene.

‘You’ve all got what you need in your rooms already in terms of info sheets. We’re booked out here, so it’s just us. Everyone has a per diem spend for food and drinks, and there’s security on the door and on each floor. I’m sure you’re aware, but so we’re all on the same page, the objective for these exterior shots here on location, here on the actual Romantic Road, is to capture the fairy-tale-like enchantment of the place. Duke and Daphne are doing a superb job as George and Hermione, with such chemistry and fondness in the early edits. Everything we need to shoot outside, here, is to really hammer home thefeelingof what we’re creating. The weather is cold – I’m told we’re expecting snow – but what we want to make people feel is thewarmthof this story. The Christmas markets, the lights, the hot chocolates and carols and these magnificent castles that just seem to be everywhere … folks should watch this movie and, yeah, fall in love with George and Hermione, but we also want them to fall in love with Bavaria. Germany is the third character in this love story.’

‘I’m about halfway in love already,’ Duke leans in to whisper in Evie’s ear. ‘I might even see if I can go out for a walk, later, if you want in.’

Evie gives him a polite smile that is non-committal. Why does he keep trying to charm her? Surely he has bigger fishto fry, the egomaniac. She mostly just wants that wine, in bed, ready to doze off in a slightly buzzed slumber before the criminal wake-up call of 5 a.m. tomorrow. Why she has to get up that early she doesn’t know – something about cast morale?

Milling around are about a hundred of the team, and after their meeting Evie makes polite chit-chat as a buffet is unveiled. It’s not abadgig, per se, being in Germany on somebody else’s dime, staying in a fancy hotel and being fed and watered, it’s just her deadline really is looming. She looks at her watch. Maybe she can get a thousand words in before bed.

‘Ihaveto get you to sign my copy ofOnce in a Blue Moon,’ Duke tells her, as she heads back to the buffet table for more poached salmon. He might have even been waiting for her, the creep. He’s too eager to please. Too chirpy. It smacks of inauthenticity. ‘If you don’t mind,’ he adds, noting the look on her face.

Evie loads up her plate. ‘It’s okay,’ she tells him. ‘Nobody else can hear.’

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