Page 14 of The Twelve Days of Christian
Christian says nothing as the closing credits roll; just puffs out a deep, resigned exhale. It must be hard watching the grudging respect of the other contestants, the adoration of the audience, the confidence of the show hosts, while knowing it all came to nothing. He senses my attention and turns to me, expectant. I look into the challenge of those stormy blue eyes and ask the obvious question.
“What happened, Christian? For you to go from that—to this?”
“Well, it started with me refusing to do a challenge.”
I nod. I understand how the show works. After each episode, the audience votes for the contestant they think did the best on the challenge, and the points accumulate, although no one really knows until the final night who the winner will be. Clever editing keeps the viewer on the edge of their seat right until the end. However, there was no disguising the lack of support for anyone but Christian tonight. Surely, a missed challenge in Episode 5 wouldn’t kill his chances, and opting out of a challenge would have only cost him points, not complete eviction.
“But there’s more?”
“Yeah.” He drags his hand down his beard, looking thoughtful, as if mulling over how much to reveal. “And then…I may have threatened the producer…” He grins. A little triumphant laugh escapes. “That got their attention. Bastards deserved it for the stuff they wanted us to do. For what the rest of them felt pressured into doing. I simply let them know my intentions to give a few interviews afterwards. Tell people my reasons for not doing the challenge. I can’t change the things that happened this time, but I can make damn sure they don’t happen again.”
“What things?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not that. I do trust you. I know you won’t go around blabbing. But if it comes to court, Haley, you’d have no option but to tell them what you know. Or lie for me.”
From his bitter laugh, I know he thinks that’s ridiculous. What is more ridiculous is I’m already considering the possibility I might. Me, the good girl, the rule follower, the one who never steps out of line. Would I do it? Lie to help Christian? I think I really might and the prospect doesn’t scare me.
“But I can still help, right?” Something has shifted between us over the last hour, as I’ve watched him show me the honest, well-intentioned man he is. There’s another uncomfortable stab of shame as I acknowledge I was more ready to accept evidence of his basic goodness from watching a stupid TV show than I was from all he’s done for me and Tully. I want to make it up to him. “Maybe not perjury…”
His deep laugh is music to my ears. “No, not that. Not yet,” he chuckles. “You’re off work tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, on personal nursing duties for Tully. Not that I think I’ll be too busy with those, looking at her now.” Hearing her name, Tully grins across at us, her lips peeled back, showing all her wonky teeth. There’s no sign of the seriously ill dog of last night.
I rang in earlier to let my boss know, so she could pull in one of the part-timers to cover. It’s a godsend when you work in a place willing to accommodate the responsibilities of being a dog parent.
“What do you need me to do?”
“Go over to my apartment. It’s not far, just over in Chelsea. I need my laptop. I have all the documents on it—contracts, the original NDA—pages of boring shit that I signed without reading. Megan was furious.”
I can imagine. I’ve met the band’s business manager, the ferocious Megan Lamont, and I’ve heard from Ollie how risk averse she is on their behalf—comments like ‘I can’t even take a piss without running it past Megan’ spring to mind—which is great because I imagine they pay her a large sum to do exactly that. She will be the first to say ‘I told you so’ when she finds out about this disaster.
“Ouch,” I wince. “That wouldn’t have been pretty.”
“No. I’m dreading her finding out about this.” The sick look on his face matches what appears to be genuine fear in his eyes. “Anyway, I need that laptop. Start at the beginning and see if there are any loopholes in those contracts.”
“Sure, I can do that. You’re good for dog nurse duties?”
“Absolutely,” he says, smiling across at Tully perched like a queen on her throne and Mularkey on the chair next door, her attentive lady-in-waiting, alert and attempting to anticipate her needs. “Whatbetter way to spend a couple of hours than hanging out with you, eh?”
The soft expression on Christian’s face, as he watches my smiling girls wag their tails furiously under his gaze, melts my heart. His genuine love for the pair of them is written there, and it’s not a look I’ve seen from any other guy I’ve introduced them to so far. Another reason I need to back off from the frosty way I’ve treated him. And also why tingling, butterfly-like sensations twirl inside of me.
“Looks like they’re pretty happy about that suggestion.”
He turns to me and stretches a hand across the gap I’ve placed between us. He rests it over mine, offering a gentle squeeze. Warmth floods through me, up my arm, and settles somewhere in my middle, flowing like honey around the fluttering there.
“Thanks Haley. I owe you.”
“I think we’re more than even Christian. Thank you,” I say, smiling at Tully, who is trying to dislodge the evil cone by butting her head on the arm of her chair.
Chapter 8
Day Three
The next morning’s earlyrain has disappeared and the clouds are bright silver, backlit by the sun, as I emerge from the dim underground station and stroll along the tree-lined street towards the waterfront. Christian may be cash-strapped now, but it seems, like Ollie, he made a smart investment when those early royalty cheques rolled in. Apartments in this neighbourhood don’t come cheap. Ordinary people like me might sometimes live in posh places like this, but we’ll never own one.
