Forty-Six
New York City, next morning
An incoming FaceTime alert woke Alex up. She squinted at the tablet face down in the sheets and flipped it over: ten past eleven…Freddie…
“Hello?” she moaned into a pillow.
“Good morning, Sparkly Girl.” Freddie beamed in the July 1st sunshine from the rooftop deck of his Archway flat.
“Eurgh. I’m hardly sparkly. I feel crap. Barely slept.”
“Lex, I’m sorry. I held off and held off, but it’s almost quarter after four here, and the chippie closes at six.”
“That’s…two hours away, and it’s not like you have far to go—it’s downstairs.”
“Yeah, but I have lots of juicy goss!” He popped open a bag of cheese and onion crisps.
Simon, a cup of green tea in his hand, pulled up a patio chair beside Freddie. “Hey, gorgeous. Thanks for the kombucha homebrew kit. It’s brilliant!”
“Hey, Si. Happy Birthday! I hope Freddie was joking about fish and chips tonight. A veggie sausage doesn’t exactly scream happy thirty-sixth, does it?”
“That’s why I made a reservation at the Chiltern Firehouse.”
“And that’s why I’m eating crisps now and chips when I’m done talking to you…grilled cauliflower hearts? Gross!” Freddie took a deep breath. “So…are you sitting comfortably?”
“You can see for yourself, Freds. I’m in bed.”
“Start as you mean to go on, lady. Just lie back and think of Keegs.”
“If you’re going to goof around—”
“Don’t pretend you haven’t gone there in your head—I saw your face yesterday. You can’t pretend with me…actually, you won’t have to pretend at all. Put away your battery-operated boyfriend, Lex.” He stuffed a handful of crisps in his mouth.
“Freddie!” Alex sat up.
He took a deep breath. “So, Mark and I spoke this morning, and he told me everything…”
And Freddie told Alex everything…
Simon adjusted his sunglasses. “Wink’s plan went off like a well-rehearsed play.”
Alex covered her face with a pillow. “Argh! I completely fell for those photos, Mark being upset about the used condom—all of it. Well, at least I know everything…”
“Actually, you don’t,” said Freddie.
“I don’t?” Alex flipped the pillow behind her.
“You don’t know about Manchester.” Freddie munched his last crisp. “Wink was up to his dirty tricks again during Constellations. He told the tabloids about Mark and Fallon’s teenage relationship. He also hinted that maybe the onstage romance in Constellations was becoming hot and heavy backstage, too. Everyone loves a showmance…”
Alex crossed her arms over her t-shirt. Not everyone!
“…even better if it’s first loves reuniting and falling for each other as adults.”
Simon waved away a wasp. “People love that shit, including producers and directors. I bet they’d cast Mark and Fallon more often if they’re all over the press and social media, and guess whose agent commission would be quids in? Wanky Winky.”
“What a dick. He’s such a manipulative asshole.” Alex sneered.
“To make his showmance story look real, Wink encouraged Fallon to hang out with Mark in Manchester—go for dinner, drinks. She was up for it.” Freddie shrugged. “Why wouldn’t she be? Getting noticed by the press, casting agents, directors, and she could do it guilt-free. A week earlier, she’d dumped Duff—get this, she caught him cheating!”
Alex smirked. “Karma.”
“But Mark was being as sociable as a rock.” Freddie tore open a Curly Wurly chocolate bar. “He missed you, Lex, terribly, and I think the emotions portrayed in Constellations weren’t helping. After each day’s rehearsals, he would disappear to his hotel room—alone. I know, ’cause he’d call me, miserable—he’d sad-FaceTime me. I even spotted a framed photo of you two behind him,” Freddie mumbled, his mouth full of chocolate-coated caramel.
“Really?” Alex sank back into the pillows.
“Mark told me Wink pulled him aside in early March, said Constellations ticket sales were lagging. He found out later that Wink was bloody lying—the play’s run was practically sold out! Anyway, Wink said they needed to drum up interest to sell tickets, and if Mark got papped with Fallon, it might do the trick. You know Mark—bloody workaholic—his play had to be successful, and he felt like he owed Wink for his damage control on the Promise set back in January. So, he went along with it. Mark thought he had nothing to lose because he had already lost you.”
Simon jumped in. “And Wink tipped off the paps, so they caught them shopping, getting cosy in bars around Manchester…it looked bloody real, and then one day, it was.”
Alex took a deep breath.
Freddie sighed. “The New Year’s shag never happened but in April—Fallon got her claws in.”
Alex closed her eyes.
Freddie glanced at Simon, who nodded to his fiancé to keep going. “It was a relationship of convenience, Lex—he didn’t love her. He told me that this morning. They were both on the rebound. By mid-April, they were already over, but Wink had them agree to keep up appearances until after the January release of A Promise Unspoken—to sell tickets, build up tabloid buzz.”
Her eyes popped open. “Hang on…so, the past three months was all a PR stunt?”
“Yep, they were under my nose and even fooled me,” said Freddie.
She stared at her tablet. “They were only really together for a month?”
“Not even—two weeks, Lex! And all the photos together? All staged.”
“Seriously? Even Florida…the beach?”
“Yep! All for the camera, darling. But Lex, they weren’t even in Florida! Mark and Fallon were in LA meeting casting directors, that beach was a short drive away! Wink must’ve told Fallon to tag it as Florida, and before you ask, they stayed in separate rooms the entire trip.”
“So, they’re not engaged…”
“Oh, God, no!” Freddie swigged from a can of cola. “That gossip piece in the Mail—fed to them by Wink.”
“But Fallon has Niamh’s ring…?”
“She does, but it’s not an engagement ring! Mark explained everything: it’s a bloody Delaney family heirloom. Fallon’s mum died five years ago, left Niamh the ring in her will, but Niamh always thought Fallon should have it. She asked Mark to get it repaired and polished last summer so she could send it to Fallon. He was just bringing it back to Dublin for his mum when you found it.”
“Oh, God. I got it so wrong.” She hid her face in her hands. “So, he wasn’t planning to propose to me…”
“Mark wasn’t about to propose to anyone, not with that ring, anyway.” Freddie stretched back in his chair. “He said he’s done with Fallon and their fake relationship bullshit, and he’s going to read Wink the riot act. So, darling…bloody brilliant, right? No New Year’s shag, no engagement—nothing to stop you taking him back!”
“I can’t, Freds.” Alex sighed. “Mark’s married to his acting. His life’s a whirlwind, and he still works like a madman, all in the public eye. None of that’s good for my anxiety.”
“But you haven’t had a panic attack in months, and you would know how to handle his absences better now—”
“It doesn’t matter. Mark’s lifestyle is not my idea of a healthy long-term relationship. It just isn’t. Besides, the stability I hoped I’d find with Mark, I’ve found on my own. I don’t need a guy to save me—I can save myself.” She shrugged at her friends on the other side of the ocean. “I’m sorry. I know you were hoping for a different answer—”
“But you love him.”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough, Freds.”
Freddie looked like he had been slapped.
Simon stepped in. “Well, none of us will see Mark for a while. He doesn’t have to report to Mexico for Throttle until August, so he’s staying with his mum. He’s on a strict diet and workout regime for the film, said he needs to focus and get his head straight.”
“I guess, yeah, if he’s going to compete with The Rock,” said Alex.
“Mark’s trainer gave him a new nickname—The Pebble.” Freddie raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, jeez.” Alex winced. “I bet he hates it.”
“Yeah! He does.” Freddie snickered. “So, lady…shifting subjects slightly—when’s the last time you had two gorgeous men spend the night?”
“What?! Never!”
“Get the groceries in, darling! Si and I are Big Apple-bound. We’re coming over next week for your birthday.”
“Really?” Alex’s first grin of the morning lit up her face. “What about work? Can you afford it?”
“My boss won’t even know I’m missing, so fuck him. Si has a trillion air miles from flying to Montréal, and Harry said we can bunk in that loft you’re hogging.”
“Hey, the more, the merrier!” Alex grinned.
“Ah, NYC! For reals.” Freddie kissed Simon’s cheek. “We’re also swinging by Montréal on the way home. Get this, Lex: I’m dragging Si to his first comic con.”
“And I’m dragging Freds to meet my parents—properly—as my fiancé.” Simon nodded.
“I wonder what Simon’s dreading more…” Freddie’s cheeks couldn’t hold back his grin.