Page 49 of Wish You Knew
She really was a brilliant friend.
“Thank fuck we hadn’t released any of this yet.”
A lump formed in my throat. “Ellie, I sent Scott a couple of the pictures by accident.”
“Of you? Or of both of you?”
“Only me. It was the lingerie ones.”
Ellie waved her hand. “He can keep them to wank over. I wouldn’t want to destroy his fantasies.”
I doubted his fantasies would feature me right now, but I was grateful I didn’t have to approach him about getting them back. “What are you going to do about the range now?”
Ellie sucked in her bottom lip. “We can’t move the go live date, but I really want to get some promo done. We can reshoot you easily, but I need a male model. Someone you’re comfortable working with.” She tapped her phone against her thigh. “Someone trustworthy. And hot.” The corner of her mouth quirked up.
An idea popped into my head. The person I had in mind wasn’t exactly trustworthy. Scott would despise it. “I think I might know someone…”
Which is how, two days later, Bas Rafferty and I ended up in the penthouse suite of a West London hotel, recreating the originalSFUshoot.
When I’d asked him, he’d initially refused. Laughing, he told me he wasn’t a model and had never harboured any aspirations to get his top off for public consumption. I knew he was lying. I’d seen his previous work. Ellie also spoke to him, persuading him it was for the greater good, although she didn’t go into detail about why the first shoot had got canned. I wasn’t about to enlighten him either.
“Shit, I can see what Scott sees in you.” Bas raked his gaze over my near naked body, as we prepped for the lingerie pictures.
Instinctively, I reached for a robe and pulled it on. I didn’t like to think that the two of them had discussed me in such intimate detail. Heat rushed to my cheeks.
As if sensing my discomfort, Bas went on. “Not that he’s ever said anything about, well, you know. I can make my own decisions when it comes to seriously fantastic looking women.”
For the duration of the shoot, Ellie was never far away, making sure there was always someone else around me and Bas. She needn’t have worried; he was a perfect gentleman. When his fingers brushed against my hipbone, I couldn’t help but compare him to Scott. His skin was smoother, unblemished by tattoos, and it was obvious he kept himself in shape. He moved and posed easily, taking direction well, making me feel at ease. The experience couldn’t have been more different, and it brought out the best in me as well.
When Ellie finally told us it was a wrap, applause broke out from the small group of people who’d put the shoot together.
“Seriously, Bas, you ought to get Rosie to hook you up with her booker.” Ellie came over to us, handing me a robe. “That face could make you a fortune.”
He laughed as I slipped on the robe. “I’m doing a favour for a friend. Happy to help out.” He flashed a smile in my direction.
“Sure I can’t get you to change your mind?” pressed Ellie. “Over a drink?”
My head swivelled around to her. “Ellie!”
“What? A girl can ask, right?” She threw her hands in the air. “Okay, I get it, you want him all to yourself. Can’t say I blame you.”
“Rosie?” Bas’s tone lowered and he fixed me with a look, reminiscent of the ones Scott used to give me.
“No, that’s not what I meant at all!” I protested. “Why don’t the three of us go out afterwards?”
“I forgot. I’m getting a train straight back to Manchester.” Ellie turned away and pretended there was something on her phone which was imperative she looked at immediately. I wondered if she was booking her train, so as not to deal with the awkwardness in the room.
After Ellie had left, Bas and I ended up in the hotel bar. It was quiet. There were a few tables occupied by people in suits, either catching up after work or having business meetings. Bas ordered my gin and his pint, and we occupied a table to the side of the room, out of the earshot of others.
“Have you spoken to Scott?” Bas asked.
I sipped my drink. I hadn’t heard from him since I’d left the country house. Nothing in almost a week. Several times I’d picked up my phone, ready to call or message him. Then I remembered it shouldn’t be up to me to make contact.
He was the one who had pissed on whatever it was we had.
Shat on any kind of feelings I harboured for him.
I squashed those feelings down hard.
