Faye laughed. “With—a bear?”
“No!” Gregor yelled, smacking her on the leg. The slap sent a pleasurable sensation across her thigh and straight to her nether region. She put her hand on the spot he had touched and rubbed it. “With a young lady. It was ill-advised. For us and the bear.”
“Thank God you’re alright!”
“Yes, but I am banned by the Zoological Society of London for life. I think they have a security shot of my face midcoitus posted in the break room.”
“I’m sure the bears needed therapy,” Faye said, smiling at him.
“Indeed.”
Faye looked out the window and saw the familiar buildings of London disappearing on the horizon. “Hey, why are we driving away from the city?”
Gregor paused a moment before answering. “We’re going to my country house. You’ll like it. It’s much more intimate.” Gregor must have felt Faye giving him a look because he quickly added, “Less noise. You’ll have your own room, of course, and access to the study.”
Faye thought about protesting—after all this was not according to plan. Bev’s itinerary stated that she would have her own room at The Savoy and that all the interviews would take place in a meeting room set aside for that exact purpose. Still, it was true that she would probably get more out of Gregor if he were allowed to roam free in his natural habitat. And anyway, she was curious to see how this globe-trotting star lived when he wasn’t filming. Often a person’s home told more stories about them, or inspired the subject to open up like nowhere else.
Instead of complaining, Faye found another song she liked on the radio and settled in for the drive.
It was late in the evening by the time they reached the country roads leading to Gregor’s residence, and it was too dark outside for Faye to discern any of the scenery. The only thing she could see was Gregor, his strong profile lit up by the dashboard lights, his face looking serious as he navigated the winding roads. Seeing him like that made her wonder why he had dropped out of the public eye over the past few years. Was it something romantic? Or something related to a family member? There would be time for all of those questions when they got settled into the country house and had gotten a good night’s sleep. The thought of sleeping in the same place as Gregor made Faye’s heart skip a beat. Even if they would be in separate rooms, it would still be such close quarters. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to turn the car around and take her to the safe anonymity of her reserved hotel room, or to just pull over to the side of the road and make out with her furiously. She thought about what it would be like to slide over the console dividing their seats and straddle his lap. She imagined her hair falling over her face as she leaned over him, grinding her way to ecstasy on that lean, strong, beautiful body of his.
Faye let out a sigh and saw Gregor’s eyes momentarily flicker from the road onto her and back again. They drove on into the night.
By the time they reached the cottage, Faye was feeling groggy from all the travel, but she perked up at the sight of the beautiful stone house. Even in the pitch black, she could see that it was surrounded by a beautiful English garden, with seemingly every possible variety of flower sprouting from the ground to decorate the gray slabs. Gregor came around to open the car door for her and when she stepped onto the gravel, she noticed just how peacefully still it was outside, her heels crunching against the rocks was the only sound she could hear. It had been a while since she’d left the city and she’d forgotten just how much quieter things were away from the subways and 24/7 delis.
“This is it,” Gregor said, fishing in his bag for the key. “My humble abode.” Gregor unlocked the door and flipped a switch that lit up the entryway and the living room. If the outside of the house was country-chic, the inside was definitely cozy-modern, with neutral colors, comfortable couches, a wide-screen TV and top-of-the-line Bose speakers. Faye could see the kitchen from where she was standing, and it looked like something from out of a magazine. It was like stepping into the most expensive choice on the Airbnb list, except that this was Gregor’s home.
“Or not so humble,” Faye commented, taking in the colorful artwork that adorned the walls. “Oh, my God. Is that a Warhol?”
Gregor smiled and seemed a little embarrassed by his own good fortune. “Yeah,” he said casually, stroking his chin. “I bought it during my art phase. I’ve been thinking of selling it.”
“It’s fantastic,” Faye said, marveling at the painting—and the whole place.
“I’ll keep it, then,” Gregor said.
“Do you mind showing me to my room? I’m a little tired,” Faye said, suppressing a yawn.
“Of course,” Gregor said, snapping to attention. “Right this way.”
Faye followed Gregor down the hallway and into a small bedroom. When he flicked on the lights, she saw a comfortable room painted white, with a beautiful area rug. There were colorful pillows on the bed and a small writing desk with a stool next to it.
“This should have everything you need. The loo’s through there.” He gestured to a door leading to a private bathroom. “Can I make you something? You must be starving.”
“I think I’m just going to take a shower and crawl into bed,” she said, plopping down on the fluffy white comforter. Then, thinking she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea—or did she—she quickly stood up. “Thanks so much for having me in your home. It’s really lovely.”
“Anything you need, I’m just down the hall,” Gregor said chivalrously. The two stood in awkward silence until Gregor cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said, smiling at her as he shut the door behind him.
Faye stood there staring at the door for a beat and then lay down on the bed, this time breathing out a heavy sigh. It was exhausting, trying to look good in front of someone for that amount of time. She decided to take a long, hot shower and then get into bed and sleep for a very long time. She could worry about the interview tomorrow.
After doing some quick unpacking into the chest of drawers and reveling in a steamy, hot shower, Faye slipped into her pajamas—a pair of tiny shorts and matching camisole covered in pink and red flowers. Noticing her phone, she saw there were a few text messages from Bev, asking how things were going and reminding Faye how important the story was for the magazine.
Faye understood why Bev was so concerned. With so much digital content available, magazines like Amuse Bouche really had to go the extra mile to grab readers’ attention. It didn’t help that three of their sister magazines had folded in the past two years. The pressure was on to deliver.
She also noticed there was a voice message from her mother. Faye had sent her a quick text, letting her know she’d be out of the country, and of course her mother had called her back and left several messages. She made a mental note to give her a call the next morning.
Faye took a cursory glance at her Facebook feed and noticed that David had posted a picture of himself with a group of friends at the beer garden. Even though her sister and friends had advised she unfollow him, Faye couldn’t bring herself to do it. But they were right, it was torture, looking through his pictures, wondering if he was having more fun without her…
Faye clicked off the page and placed her phone, face down, on the nightstand.
But
