you mind...?’ Beth’s mother said. ‘I don’t like red meat.’
‘Of course.’ Freya smiled, to show that it didn’t matter in the least to her, and they swapped plates.
She had been worried about the meal at the wedding and had thought about talking to her friend, Mila, about it. She sometimes discussed her eating disorder with Mila, because Mila didn’t treat Freya as if she had two heads and tiptoe around her. But weddings were a bit of a touchy subject between Freya and Mila, given James had jilted her friend at the altar. Also, she was avoiding Mila a bit at the moment, because Freya still hadn’t told James that the Bright Hope Clinic charity was run by his ex-fiancée.
James didn’t even know they’d remained friends.
Oh, it was a long dinner and then came the speeches.
Freya glared at the cameraman, who was getting stuck into the champagne. She would have preferred Beth to have chosen someone else, but the wedding budget was getting tight, Beth had said. Freya had gently suggested losing a few bows but that hadn’t gone down well.
‘My wife and I have an extra surprise for you all,’ Neil said. ‘You’ll be thrilled to know that the stork arrived early....’
The whole room melted and clapped and the cameraman must have seen Freya’s stern glare because he panned to the guests and then back to the happy couple. Neil made a joke about more free cocktails for him on their cruise. This had Freya’s jaw tense.
Then the dancing started but Freya still couldn’t relax as Beth had yet more requests.
‘I want him to film messages for us from all the guests.’
‘I know that you do.’
‘But I don’t want the messages to just be about the baby,’ Beth said. ‘I want them mainly to be about me.’
Me, me, me, me, me, Freya thought as she nodded and smiled.
Freya took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and then Edward came over. ‘You’re looking gorgeous, Freya,’ he said.
She looked terrible, as Mr Room 2812 had so sexily pointed out!
‘Can I get you another drink?’ Edward offered.
‘No, thank you.’
‘You were blonde last time I saw you,’ he said. ‘You’ve gone back to brunette.’
‘Really?’ Freya’s response was sarcastic. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’
‘I’m actually staying here tonight,’ Edward said. ‘How about a dance for old times’ sake?’
‘How about I throw this champagne in your face?’
Freya walked off with her drink and headed outside to drag the cool night air into her lungs. She loved LA in winter and she promised to take herself riding some time soon. It was her best method for relaxing and she had been introduced to it when she had been in rehab.
Freya never cried.
Not even in rehab had she let them break her but tonight she suddenly felt close.
It wasn’t Edward, she harboured no hidden feelings for him—well, no nice ones.
It was how they’d ended things that still stung, all these years on.
Her long stint in rehab had been spread far and wide across the media and everyone had thought she’d been on drugs. At the age of twenty-three, when they’d started dating, he’d asked about it and Freya had told him about her eating disorder.
It had been hard to reveal but she’d pushed on and had told him she was recovered, or healed, or whatever the best word was. But when she’d told him that she probably couldn’t have children he had, on the spot, dumped her and accused her of stringing him along. It had felt as if Edward had only been dating her on the assumption that one day she’d be pregnant.
‘I thought we were enjoying each other’s company,’ Freya had said. ‘Not looking for future mating partners.’
‘Well, it’s preferable to have that option,’ had been his callous response.
It had hurt, it had been such a horrible blow to her recovering self, but she had refused to let it plunge her back into hell.
Freya knew she should go back inside but she could not face Edward.
Did he think she’d have an affair, that married men were all that was left? Oh, no, she would rather, far rather, get in that elevator and...
Why not? Freya thought.
They’d both, in that brief exchange, stated that they were single.
And she’d promised this coming year to do more of the things she liked and to try new things.
No.
Freya simply couldn’t see it.
Going up and knocking on Sexy Bastard’s door just for sex.
Or maybe he’d left it open and she would just slip in.
Actually, Freya could see it.
And she had promised to keep her New Year’s resolutions...
New Year.
Yikes! Freya remembered a little too late that she had to get everyone out for the photo shoot and the next twenty minutes were frantic indeed.
It had been a long and difficult night, Freya thought, and a part of her longed to just head upstairs and to find out what simply letting go and having fun actually meant.
* * *
An aching part of Zack had really wished she would head up!
He’d arrived back in his room so turned on and waiting.
Come on, he’d thought.
God knew, he’d needed the distraction.
He’d unlatched the door and lain on the bed, hands behind his head.
She was stunning.
Dark eyes, dark hair and that mouth... She’d looked a little familiar but all he had ever seen of LA till now had been the airport so Zack had shrugged that thought off. It would come to him overnight.
Would she?
Of course she would. The attraction had been through the roof but by ten he’d downgraded his expectations because the speeches were surely well over with.
By eleven-thirty he’d woken from a doze and stared out to the LA night.
Not at the city but at the mountains beyond and he knew he had to ring his parents before the lines got busy. He got up and took out his cellphone and took a steadying breath before he made the call.
Zack
