The doorbell rang at midday. Emma pointed at Gee.
‘Be nice, Jamie’s been through a lot and if he wants to watch Titanic, then you will suck it up and watch without complaining.’
‘But it is awful,’ he said from where he was splayed out on the sofa. ‘I mean there was enough room on that bloody door for Jack too. And I don’t even like Leo or Kate enough to enjoy the scenery.’
‘George Knightley. Promise.’ She poked him in the bicep as she moved past him to go and answer the door.
‘Fine. Promise. But he’s not eating my Pickled Onion Monster Munch. I don’t care how unhappy he is.’
She couldn’t help but smile as she went into the hall and opened the door. Her smile faltered slightly at the sight of a depressed looking Jamie. He looked all droopy, from the way his grey scarf seemed to sag as it looped round his neck to the sweater sleeves that peaked from underneath his coat arms and almost covered his hands. His curls even seemed to be wilting under the mauve beanie pulled down low over his face.
‘Hey,’ she said brightly.
‘Hey,’ Jamie answered, his voice low and slow.
She would feed him all of Gee’s Monster Munch if it would stop him sounding like that.
‘Come in. Come in.’ She could feel her brightness turn up by a factor of ten to take into account his gloominess.
‘I brought ice cream,’ Jamie said as he came through the door, waving the white and blue striped plastic bag at Emma. How he made even that sound depressing, she didn’t know.
‘That’s good, we’ve stocked up as well. Plus, Gee’s promised to make hot chocolate and his famous margaritas and any other type of alcohol you might fancy. We have a menu for every takeaway within a two-mile radius that delivers. There’s chocolate and all kinds of crisps and Netflix is lined up.’ She ushered him further into the hall and wrestled with him to take his scarf and coat from him. He held onto his beanie when she tried to snatch it from him, his mouth all pouty and his eyes damp.
She backed away.
‘Hey man,’ Gee waved from his sofa, his legs spread on it so no one else could sit there. Damn, it looked like Jamie would be sharing with her, she really liked spreading out. Or he could lose himself in the giant leather bean bag. Many people had been lost in there and had to be pulled free. It had its own gravitational pull.
Fifteen minutes later, with hot chocolate slopping over the sides of giant mugs and popcorn popped, they all settled down to watch Titanic. Jamie had crawled into the bean bag and was curled up looking like a kicked puppy.
Gee frowned at Emma and made a gesture with his phone.
She felt a vibration telling her that a text message had arrived.
I added peppermint schnapps to his mug. I couldn’t take the puppy eyes. He had added a mug emoji then the crying face one.
‘I know,’ she mouthed back.
She didn’t hold out hope for Gee keeping the Monster Munch to himself, he was as soft as she was.
***
‘And then he said…’ Jamie took a gulping wet breath. ‘He said I looked cute in your shirt.’ He wailed to Gee. He was sprawled in the bean bag, waving his third margarita round violently. Emma wondered whether he was going to spill it, it would be hell to get out of the leather. She knew Gee made his margaritas strong but it seemed he also put rather a lot of schnapps in his hot chocolate too.
‘I know, man,’ Gee said from his supine position on the sofa, staring down at Jamie. ‘That shirt has levelled better blokes than Dan.’ He sipped on the straw he’d put in his drink so he didn’t have to sit up too far to drink. ‘Taken out quite a few women too,’ he added.
As if she needed reminding. Sometimes the memory of the soft shirt in her hands still seemed real and she had to look down to check.
‘I like you,’ Jamie said pushing his beanie up so he could see better. ‘Emma, I like Gee. You would be so much better to work with than half our clients. Wouldn’t he, Em?’
She was too sober for this.
‘I like you, too.’ Gee said. ‘Monster Munch?’ he added as he took the bag that was resting on the side table and offered it to Jamie.
Okay, maybe she wouldn’t have to make up anything to Gee for having to watch first Titanic and then The Notebook. She mentally removed the organic peanut butter from her shopping list.
‘What next then?’ She asked. They could fit in another film before they hit the takeout menus.
Gee and Jamie looked at each other, then at her.
‘Clueless.’ They said in unison.
How had they managed to pick a film she hated? Why couldn’t they at least pick Ten Things I Hate About You?
‘But…’ She started just as Jamie took a deep, shuddering, sobbing breath. She looked over at Gee who was using his best puppy dog eyes.
‘Fine.’ She said as she queued it up. But she reserved the right to throw a cushion at Cher for being so… clueless.
***
Plan B – or were they now on Plan C? – whichever it was, ‘The Plan’ for BOTP’s promo romances had started well. Especially Ed’s. With his romance being more high-profile due to Frankie Quick’s popularity, it was always going to make a bigger splash outside the fandom.
Emma had coordinated the mutual social media follows with her counterpart on Frankie’s team. She couldn’t help but remember when she first found out that most celebrities had someone running their social media accounts. She’d been shocked, did that mean that all those cute tweets from Wyatt Sugar to Bibi weren’t real? All that banter back and forth was actually written by a social media manager? It had been like seeing behind the curtain in the Wizard of Oz and realising there was no magic there. Just a group of people pulling the levers to make the public believe.
But now that she was the one behind the curtain pulling the levers and making magic, she got a frisson of excitement. She couldn’t help her heart racing when she pressed the key that meant Ed or rather Ed™’s Twitter account was now following Frankie™’s Twitter account. Then a second later there had been the follow back. And as easy as that she had been part of fandom history. She could almost see the thousands of tweets and blogs that would be generated from two clicks. And with both Ed’s and Frankie’s fans checking the number of people they followed closely, they would know immediately. And it didn’t take a forensic investigator to see who was newly followed. It was all over social media in a matter of seconds.
As she vetted the interview questions for BOTP, she made sure to greenlight the tedious and unoriginal question, ‘who is your celebrity crush?’ – in the past, BOTP had made up funny answers so with Ed’s coy, ‘I don’t want to say’ answer while he blinked his eyes slowly, it fuelled the fire.
A day after that the blind gossip piece she had carefully crafted and sent out via different outlets was published. It alluded to an initial meeting backstage at Frankie’s summer concert. The only one Ed could have logistically been at. If the logistics would have to have included a helicopter and a police escort to work then so be it, she only had so much to play with.
It was working like a dream. Like clockwork.
And all of this before Ed and Frankie had actually met. Really, she thought, it was always much easier when you could take the actual people out of the equation. She wondered if one day she could conduct a whole fauxmance on social media without the people in question ever meeting.
Emma hummed at her desk as she spun possibilities, and watched the Ed and Frankie Twitter mentions ratchet up; the blind gossip had been genius. Now would be an opportune point to introduce the ship name they’d created for the Ed and Frankie romance. She logged into one of Mega!’s many fake fan accounts that were set up for this. If you wanted to influence the fandom, you had to infiltrate it.
She pulled up the list of tweets that Maple Groove and Si had signed off. She copied the first one, pasted it and pressed publish.
@WedPelley4Evah: Have you seen Ed and Frankie are supposed to be dating. I ship #Freddie
Within seconds, #Freddie started trending.
Emma double checked all of the band’s social media accounts. Although the team had access to post from them, they encouraged the boys to also engage. She frowned. Will had gone very quiet online, which was odd. He was usually tweeting abuse at football results at the very least. Maybe Si had managed to get him to see the light? Unlikely but she could dream.
But too quiet wasn’t good for promo. She quickly looked through the approved tweets she had for Will’s Twitter account. Why not solve two problems, seed something about him and Tina as well as getting him visible online.
Also, it would counteract the eye rolls he’d been indulging in every time the celebrity crush questions had been asked. Although she supposed he had done well claiming he wanted to be private when anyone had asked about the mystery brunette he’d been spotted with in blurry photos. And now they were in America, about to start their tour, she could probably use the one about missing someone. Vague enough but… give fans and the media enough and they would tell the story for you.
@Will_Poulson: Missing home more than I thought I would #missyou
Ah, nothing like feeding the fan frenzy, she thought as most of the fan update accounts fell on it within seconds. And a few Twitter trends started:
#WedIsDead
#TillaLives
#FreddieIsBetterThanWed
#EdComeBackToBedWillMissesYou
Where the hell did the last one come from?
She refreshed the page and saw that Will’s account had tweeted something different already.
@Will_Poulson: Ed stole my duvet and now won’t give me pancakes #brekkieinbed
Oh for… her finger hovered over the delete button. No. That would be playing into it. Will was obviously done with playing nice.
Her phone rang.
It was Si.
‘We’ve got a problem, get your arse on the next plane to LA,’ he barked through the phone.
Surely one tweet wasn’t enough to be dragged halfway round the world? But knowing these guys it was probably only the tip of the iceberg.
See, this was why it was always easier to have plans when there were no people involved, she thought as she pressed the phone to her ear and started taking down details.
***
Emma threw a handful of T-shirts at her open suitcase and hoped they’d magically fold themselves when they fell in.
They didn’t.
‘So why are you going to LA again?’ Gee said from where he lounged on her bed.
He was lying on the one dress she’d laid out and was crumpling it. Giving it a tug, she pulled it out from under him. She tried to smooth out the creases, but did she really need a dress? She hated not having time to think.
He sat up, picked up one of T-shirts from the suitcase and started folding it idly as he waited for her to answer.
‘Because Ed is refusing to go on a pap walk with Frankie. Actually, it is supposed to be THE pap walk. The first one that confirms that they are “seeing” each other. Admittedly it is also the first time they will actually meet in real life but no one needs to know that. McKee told Si he wants me there, he seems to think I can magically change his mind. And that if I’m in situ, I can make any fast changes they need to make with the story.’
‘So, what you are saying is they need you there to make sure they keep all the lies straight and spin more of them?’
Why couldn’t Gee just be supportive? Why couldn’t he understand that this was her job, one she loved. Okay, so occasionally there were aspects she didn’t like either but what job was perfect?
‘Gee, a bit of support, yeah?’
‘Hey, I’m here to help.’ He dropped the top he’d finished folding into the case, rolled onto his back, grabbed one of her pillows and hugged it to his chest.
Well, at least she wouldn’t be tormented having to go to sleep with Gee’s smell all over her sheets and pillow. Her flight left in, hell, four hours, and she still had to get from the east side of London to Heathrow.
‘Being helpful would be grabbing my wash stuff from the bathroom.’
‘I’m comfy,’ Gee complained, but he rolled off the bed onto the floor almost taking the suitcase with him.
‘Gee,’ she warned. He might be annoying but she was going to miss him.
‘They could’ve waited a few days before they threw a hissy fit, then we could’ve flown out together on Wednesday,’ he called from the bathroom.
Yeah, she’d forgotten one of his clients wanted him in LA for meetings.
‘I’ll probably still be there if I can’t get this sorted out.’
‘Then you and I are going to at least go out on the town one night we are there. Have to show you the sights.’ He came in with her washbag and make-up bag packed.
‘When did you last do LA properly?’ she asked as she stuffed the bags down the side of the case. She knew he’d never liked the city and avoided it as much as possible.
‘Teen Choice Awards 2006,’ he mused. ‘Or was it the MTV Music Awards? All I remember was Jessica Simpson was one of the hosts and that I got to hang out with Fall Out Boy. Good times. Good times.’ He flopped back on the bed again.
‘Is your shadow going with you?’ he asked.
‘Shadow? You mean, Jamie.’ Emma paused briefly. ‘No, Jamie is holding the fort back here. I’m a bit worried about him as Dan is being a pain in the arse.’
It seemed that Dan now wanted to be involved in the BOTP account. And she hadn’t worked out a way to keep him off it. At least not without having to rehash the whole Jamie and Dan fiasco, which the office seemed to have mercifully forgotten.
But Dan, by sleight of hand or some other chicanery, had taken it upon himself to look after Tina Churchill whenever she happened to be in the office. This seemed to be more frequently than was absolutely necessary. McKee might have been her godfather but she spent most of the time with Dan. He said it was because Tina had wanted professional help with her social media. Tina had decided that she would become a fashion blogger. But as the general plan for her social media was that it echoed Will’s, and Dan and Tina’s collective fashion sense was limited, Emma wasn’t really sure what they were doing.
She supposed it kept them busy and Starbucks in business from the number of cups they went through. But Jamie, she bit on her thumbnail… She didn’t like the thought of leaving him in the office without support.
Crap, she didn’t have time to sort out any plans. This wasn’t how she liked to travel. No time for a proper handover either.
She looked at her bulging and messy suitcase. She hated this. She hadn’t had a chance to plan her wardrobe. When she packed she wanted a spreadsheet, so she could work out what she was doing day by day and work out the best combinations. Now she’d just had to throw outfits at it and hope they worked.
She looked towards her wardrobe, maybe she did need that third jacket. She didn’t realise she’d spoken out loud.
‘Emma, you’ll be fine. If you’ve forgotten to pack something you can always buy it there. They do have shops.’ Gee reached a hand out and grasped hers as it fluttered over the shoes she’d packed. ‘Or I can bring it with me.’
All the noise and twirliness in her head calmed down. The warmth of his hand grounded her. Of course she could buy something when she was out there or wait for him. She turned her hand to grip his.
So familiar. The light callouses from all his guitar playing. His thumb stroked the back of her hand.
‘Come on Woodhouse, you’ve got time to lie down for a cuddle before you go,’ Gee pulled her down onto him.
Why didn’t they do this more often, she wondered, as he enveloped her in a hug. His long, hard body solid underneath hers, making a foundation.
She tucked her face into his neck and took a deep breath.
He smelt like home.
Could you be homesick before you even left?
His arms wrapped round hers and stroked her back, each sweep brushing away the tension and making her warm.
‘Can’t you leave now? Why do you have to wait till Wednesday?’ she murmured, her lips touching his skin.
He tightened his arms.
‘Much as I want to, I’ve got Lewis booked in all of Monday. I might be able to make it on Tuesday at the earliest?’
Hmm, she thought. It was still two days without him.
When did they get so co-dependent?
But… Emma did some calculations in her head, when was the last time they had spent more than a night apart? She wracked her brain.
Was it last year when Gee had been dating whatsherface, the woman he’d met at the gym, and they’d gone away for that long weekend in Lisbon? Oh no, that was right. Gee only did one night before cutting it short. He said it was a work emergency, but when did music engineers have that kind of emergency. And then about a fortnight later the girlfriend had been history.
Maybe it was when she’d been on that work trip, a week on a tour bus with some reality TV show band that disintegrated after six months… that was what, two years ago? And she’d spent most of the time texting Gee complaining about them and making horrible jokes up about boybands.
She wasn’t going to survive.
‘Tuesday. Please don’t leave me alone in boyband hell any longer than that. Promise?’
‘Promise.’ As he squeezed her harder. It felt perfect. She refused to give into the longing to sink deeper into his arms, to maybe reach up. Tilt her face…
She distracted herself and Gee by gasping dramatically ‘Can’t. Breath.’ She tried to flail her arms around except he had them trapped.
‘Sorry, can’t hear you.’ He laughed into her hair. ‘What did you say?’
But he relaxed his arms, as he pressed a kiss to her head. She lay there for a moment, why couldn’t time stop? Why couldn’t everything be as perfect as this?
This was ephemeral, she remembered. You couldn’t build a stable life on a series of moments, no matter how wonderful. They melted away and left you bereft.
But sometimes being wedded to a plan sucked.
She rolled out of his arms and lay next to him on the bed. He caught her fingers in his hand and squeezed.
‘Tuesday,’ he said and she believed him because even if she sometimes wanted him too, he never lied.
She could manage two days and a time difference.
Couldn’t she?