Chapter 24: Compromise

My phone would not shut the fuck up.

The more it pinged and buzzed, the more I wanted to hide under the covers until it stopped. This was what I'd dreaded. The aftermath. The future. Last night I'd had my final bite of my old life, though, and I'd done so on the basis that today would be the turning point. So I couldn't pretend I hadn't prepared myself.

Dragging my tired body out of bed, I padded over to my dressing table and snatched up the phone to assess the damage.

Gabby: 13 Missed Calls, 7 Messages

Faye: 1 Message

Charlotte: 1 Missed Call, 1 Message

Camille: 2 Messages

Ed: 1 Message

As my bleary eyes focused on the screen and my thumb flicked through the texts, a common theme stood out.

Gabby: What the fuck??
Gabby: Is this for real?
Gabby: Why aren't you answering your phone?
Gabby: Why didn't you tell me?
Gabby: Please call me back
Gabby: Or at least reply to my messages so I know you're alive
Gabby: Then call me back

Faye: He's punching. Dinner tonight?

Charlotte: You kept this quiet, you saucy minx. Knew you weren't just friends...😜

Camille: How you feeling?
Camille: Looking good in those photos. Red carpet suits you 😉

Ed: Get up. Meeting with Helen at 10.

With a groan, I started to haul myself over to the bathroom before quickly retreating to my phone and replying to Gabby. Examining the photos could wait—I needed to build up the mental strength for that.

Me: Sorry. Late night and slept in. All good. Will explain later x

Just as I went to put the phone down again, it buzzed in my hand.

Faye: Are you too famous to talk to me now? Do I need to go through your PA or manager? Ping me over that fit bodyguard's number and I'll schedule in a meeting with you

Me: One drink, 7pm?

Faye: Dinner but at your hotel

Me: One drink at my hotel

Faye: Don't take the piss. I was being generous by offering to come to you

Me: I'm being generous by offering to see you at all

Faye: Fuck, what's up with you... Is he a disappointment in bed?
Faye: Oh wait, forgot you'd already taken him for a test drive

Biting back my smile, I tossed the phone onto the dressing table and committed to my shower. Life as I knew it might be changing, but at least Faye remained consistent.

*

TEDDY STONE CHARMS HIS WAY TO 3 AWARDS BUT HIS NEW GIRLFRIEND IS THE REAL PRIZE

By Sammie Fowler

I lifted my eyes from the iPad screen and cocked a sceptical brow at Helen.

"Is Sammie still on your payroll, then?"

Helen leaned back in her chair on the opposite side of the desk and crossed one leg over the other.

"We needed a guaranteed positive reaction," she said, "but the overwhelming majority of articles are also positive. I'm not entirely happy that you went off-piste on your first public appearance together, but clearly it paid off."

Our interview with Alisha had gone viral. Or at least part of it had: the part where I'd sliced an unimpressed stare towards my hot-shot, elusive boyfriend and then suggested I'd soon be bored of him. Taken out of context, Helen pointed out, I'd have looked rude and dismissive. Luckily, the clip had included my modest, and rehearsed, remark beforehand, as well as Ed's teasing, and unrehearsed, follow-up, so my reaction had been taken the way I'd intended: as a dry joke to humble a cocky boyfriend.

Then there were the red-carpet photos. One in particular had accompanied the viral video: Ed's mouth against my ear, my lips twisted in nonchalance and my head tilted away from him, with the creases around my eyes indicating playfulness rather than hostility. At least that's how the good people of the internet had interpreted it, and the narrative had spread like wildfire.

I couldn't ignore the irony of how the two things gaining the most attention were the two things that hadn't been staged. We'd rehearsed a lot with Helen, determined to portray a happy and uncomplicated relationship that couldn't be scrutinised. Instead, thanks to our failure to resist banter and point-scoring, I came across as a grounded civilian who wasn't fawning over her celebrity boyfriend.

Everyone had gone mad for it. Apparently they'd expected me to stand pretty next to him the whole evening, and instead they thought they'd scored intimate glimpses into our relationship. Not too far from the truth, really.

"I'm clearly a natural," I said, shooting Helen a grin. Then I cast my eyes over to Ed's tense frame several feet away, arms folded over his chest and long legs crossed at his ankles. "Should have asked me out months ago, Teddy."

His jaw locked but he didn't look at me. "If you were my real girlfriend, Sophia, you might have respected my advice a little more."

"It wasn't to do with respect. I wanted to make one final choice of my own before the privilege is stripped away from me."

Arms falling down to his sides, he spun in his chair to face me, irritation slicing across his face.

"It's not about choice. It's about risk."

"There was no risk. I took precautions and stayed out of trouble. Although, admittedly, I did go home with a very hot guy."

I swung my gaze onto Mark and tossed him a teasing smile. Not sharing my sense of humour—no idea why—Ed shook his head and folded his arms again, returning to the silent treatment.

"Okay," Helen said, her voice weary. "It's a miracle you two managed to pull this off last night. We do need to start taking it seriously, though."

"I'm sorry, okay, Ed?" I pushed aside the playfulness in exchange for sincerity, but when I tried to catch his eye, he stared straight ahead, face sombre. "Listening to that song three times in one evening, pretending it wasn't tearing me apart inside... It was intense and draining. I just needed to do something for myself, and I wanted a dose of reality after spending hours putting on a fake show while mixing with people whose lives are in a different league to my own."

He pressed his lips together and breathed out a sigh through his nose, his eyes briefly fluttering shut.

"And just so everyone in this room is clear on where I stand," I continued, "I'm happy to make some sacrifices or compromises, but the day I lose all my freedom is the day this charade ends. So tell me now if that's today, and we'll save ourselves a lot of time."
Silence engulfed the room. The large clock hanging off the wall behind Helen's head punctuated each uncomfortable second that passed.

"Nobody wants to take away your freedom, Sophia," Helen said, her voice measured.

I reined in my frustration and relaxed my shoulders in an attempt to dislodge the tension gripping them. As much as I hated the constant monitoring, I knew it was part and parcel of the role. Ed lived with this every day. It was a condition he'd accepted in exchange for his success.

"I understand the need for security," I said. "I don't want to be difficult or ignorant about it. If you want to keep subtle tabs on me, then fine. If you need to follow me around from a distance, then fine. But I don't want an entourage, and I don't want a babysitter."

Rare sympathy blended with pity as Helen's eyes stumbled over my face, but eventually she shook her head and her usual hard exterior returned.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but the security is non-negotiable—"

"Done." Mark spoke for the first time, his deep voice interrupting Helen.

Three pairs of eyes rushed across to stare at him, but his posture remained casual, sitting sideways in his seat, one arm swung over the backrest, the other draped across his lap.

"Mark." Helen's tone dropped as she raised an eyebrow at him to convey a silent message.

"My team, my decision. If she wants us to watch from a distance, we can do that." His calm eyes landed on me. "You won't know we're there. But Helen's right: other than minor changes to our approach, security is non-negotiable. When you're with someone as high profile as Ed, you need a layer of protection around you."

I bobbed my head. "I understand. Thank you, Mark."

"And speaking of last night's antics," he said to me, "you and I need a chat—"

"No." The firm refusal came from Ed as he redirected his anger onto Mark. "You cannot do that with her."

Mark furrowed his brow. "Don't tell me how to do my job—"

"I know how you do your job. And I'm saying no." His fists clenched and he lowered his voice. "I can handle your very specific style of chastisement. She's not me. You're not doing it to her. That is non-negotiable."

Did he seriously think Mark was going to bollock me? Maybe it was a natural conclusion to draw when he hadn't witnessed our heart-to-heart in the car last night, but the sudden leap to my defence muddled my brain.

With a dark chuckle that lacked humour, Mark leaned forwards in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he fixed his steely eyes on Ed's tense body.

"When she fucks up as much as you fucked up, then you can worry. In the meantime, don't tell me how to do my fucking job."

Shit. I blinked at the unusual sight in front of me. The two men glared at each other with enough ice to freeze an ocean. Apparently some resentment still lingered from Ed's off-the-books trip to that bar.

"You've already shoved her up against a wall once." Ed spat out the words with a sharp bite. "So forgive me for assuming the worst."

A flash of guilt lightened Mark's dark stare. He glanced across at me and parted his lips. No sound came out.

"Ed," I said softly, reaching across to touch his forearm. The muscle was rigid with tension beneath my fingertips. "Come on. It wasn't like that."

Although he didn't react to me, he didn't recoil from me either. Slowly the stiffness drained from his body, and he blew out a long stream of anxious air. Tipping his head back, he raked a hand through his hair.

"Sorry, Mark." His apology was quiet but earnest.

Mark responded with a sharp nod. "Forgotten."

I let my hand drop from Ed's arm and turned my gaze back onto Helen. She didn't seem concerned by the confrontation between her leading men, so either this wasn't the first time they'd clashed or she didn't believe the current animosity ran particularly deep.

Over the past few months I'd witnessed the close relationship the two of them shared. The same bond that helped them fix disputes quickly had also driven Mark to lose his temper when he'd found out Ed had gone behind his back that night. It was more personal than just a rebellion.

How funny that Ed had done that because he'd needed to let off steam. It almost sounded familiar...

"Just one more thing," Helen said as she gathered her phone and notebook from the desk. "You're booked in for dinner tomorrow night. It'll be a lovely, romantic celebration." Her eyes narrowed, darting between the two of us. "So, for the love of God, whatever issues you're facing this time, either sort them out or stash them away for a night. Okay?"

"Okay," we said simultaneously.

In any other circumstance, we'd have shared a laugh at the way both our tones mimicked a sad child being scolded. But Ed was still pissed at something—me, Mark, himself—so he just rose from his chair and ambled towards the exit. He hovered there until Helen caught up with him, and then he held open the door and gestured for her to go first.

A perfect gentleman.

Once they'd left, I twisted in my seat to face Mark head-on. His green eyes latched onto mine, intense and penetrating, in complete contrast to his relaxed body language.

"Thanks," I said to him. "For compromising on the security. I know it's not how you like to do things."

"It's not how we're used to doing things, but we're capable of adapting. Your experience is just as important."

I stretched out my legs in front of me, staring down at my ankles as I spun my ring around my finger.

"I'd rather you trusted me, but I know it's not that simple."

"It's not to do with trust, Sophia. Last night wasn't because of trust, either. I hope you know that."

Shrugging, I offered him a jaded smile. "Ed didn't want me to go. Next thing I know, you turn up."

Mark's chest inflated as he drew in a long breath. Then his eyes flitted down to his lap as he unlocked his phone and tapped at the screen.

"Here." He passed it over to me, open on his messages app.

Confused, I peered down at the conversation that started at 12.31am this morning.

Helen: Camille says they're going to The Cellar in Shoreditch. Do you mind?

Mark: I'll go but don't tell Ed where she is.

Helen: He hassling you too?

Mark: Won't shut the fuck up.

Helen: Cut him some slack. He's had a busy day.

Mark: So has she. Can you have a word please?

Helen: I'll speak to him tomorrow. Put your dancing shoes on!

Mark: They're gathering dust somewhere.

"I think you get the idea." Mark snatched the phone back, dropping it into his breast pocket.

"And what idea would that be? That you used to be fun, back in the day?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "That I was there because Helen asked me to go, not Ed. And Helen knew because Camille told her."

"So Camille's been reporting back to Helen, has she?"

"Yes."

Great. My instincts had warned me she was too good to be true. Even though I barely knew her, I couldn't help feeling a little betrayed.

"What's her deal, then? Is she a professional actress? One character for Jamie, one character for me...?"

Mark plucked a piece of lint from his trousers before meeting my gaze again. "No. Helen knows Jamie's manager, so she's known Camille a while. She saw you were similar and thought you'd benefit from having an ally in someone who understands what it's like."

Yeah, right. "An ally? So, it's nothing to do with wanting to keep tabs on me?"

"No." Mark's stare was unwavering. "Just like Ed's concern was nothing to do with a lack of trust, either."

"Then why was he so pissed?"

"He's been doing this for nearly a decade. He knows the risks inside-out. He's seen everything from overzealous fans, to attempted muggings, to genuine threats of violence."

That sobered me. Violence? Against Ed?

A cold film of sweat formed at the back of my neck as a chill trickled down my spine. How did I not know about this? Had someone once managed to hurt him? Nausea churned in my stomach and bubbled up my throat.

"He's been hurt?" My voice was hushed yet seemed to echo around the deadly silent room.

"No, because he's always had a security team around him to stop that from happening. But now do you understand why he was upset about you going out alone last night?"

I swallowed down the stodgy lump choking my windpipe. "Yeah. I get it."

"And for the record, I agree with you. There was minimal risk last night when nobody knew who you were. But today that risk has grown exponentially because now you're in the public eye, too, and you're associated with him. That could potentially—not definitely, but potentially—make you a target."

"Right." I stared at the ground.

"I'm not trying to scare you. In the whole time we've worked with Ed, we've only had to intervene on four occasions, and at no stage was he in genuine danger. I just need you to understand that it's not about trust. What happened earlier this year, everyone played a part in that. Me, you, Helen, Ed... On that basis, none of us should be trusted. But we can't work together if we don't trust each other. So, I'm being transparent."

I flicked my eyes up and found him continuing to stare at me. "Got it. Transparency. You know, you could have told me all this in that meeting we had a few weeks ago. I wouldn't have been so difficult if I'd known the full picture."

He pressed his palms to his thighs and pushed himself up to stand. "He made me promise not to tell you the dirty stuff. But fake relationship or not, I get the impression you're not going anywhere. You deserve to know the full picture."

*

"Did you forget about me or is it just a really long walk from your bedroom to the bar?" Faye pasted on a hurt expression as I leaned to hug her.

"I didn't forget about you. It's just been a hectic day." I pulled out the chair next to her and smiled as she slid an orange juice across to me.

"I'll bet. Did you change your hair?"

At least she was trying not to lead with what she actually wanted to know, so I humoured her.

"Hm." I flicked a few strands of my fringe out of my face. "Wanted a change."

"Looks good. Brings out your eyes." And her own twinkled as she said it.

"Okay, don't take the piss. Ask me whatever you came here to ask me."

She recoiled, lifting her drink to her lips as her offended gaze met mine over the rim of her glass.

"Now I actually am hurt."

If I thought that were true, I'd have felt bad, but Faye could take as good as she could give, so I just picked up my own glass and waited.

"Christmas," she said, slinging one leg over the other. "Want to go halves on one of Mum's presents? We were in Kingston the other day and she saw this dress she loved. She looked amazing in it but said she couldn't justify the price tag. I know you could probably afford it yourself now with your fancy-ass job and boyfriend's bottomless credit card, but..." She trailed off, not even the sass managing to disguise the vulnerability in her voice.

"I'd love to go halves with you." I reached to squeeze her knee. "Thank you, Faye."

She seemed nervous, but the gesture had touched me. A year ago, I'd never have imagined that Faye and I would be meeting up voluntarily. She used to resent my involvement in her family, and now she was actively including me and acknowledging we shared a parent.

"Oh, and I'm not asking you just because I can't afford it myself. I'm not, like, using you."

I chuckled into my glass. "I know. I'd tell you to fuck off if you were."

"After I came all this way? Charming."

"I assumed you were coming here to ask about Teddy. That's all anyone has asked me about all day."

She scoffed, wrinkling her nose. "You've been shagging that boy for months. Old news."

Eyes widening, I grabbed her arm and threw a panicked glance around the room. That kind of gossip would blow our cover story out of the water, and Ed would face even more questions about the song. Fortunately, nobody seemed to have overheard.

"I haven't, actually."

Faye's brows knitted together but she lowered her voice. "You serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. We had shit to work through, and then we became colleagues. It was complicated."

"But love conquers all, right?"

She smirked knowingly, and I didn't dignify that with a response. Part of the reason we'd chosen the 'early days' narrative was to avoid answering awkward questions about who'd said those three words first. Ed had volunteered, but I'd vetoed it. Keeping emotions separate was hard enough without throwing love into the mix.

Changing the subject, I asked about her own love life, but she couldn't have been less enthusiastic as she told me about the guy she'd started dating.

"He's just too nice."

I snorted and quirked an eyebrow. "You need nice. Nice is good."

"Nice is boring."

"You know what else is boring? Prison."

She rolled her eyes. "God, you're so dramatic. Hey, does Teddy have any hot celebrity friends? Hell, they don't even need to be hot. I'm not shallow."

"I'm not setting you up with a celebrity, Faye."

"How about a celebrity's brother or sister, then?"

"I thought you wanted something fun. Celebrities might have exciting lives, but there are a lot of rules. You hate rules."

She cocked her head to the side, chewing the inside of her lip as she mulled that over. "That's true. I do hate rules."

Despite initially agreeing on one drink only, we ordered another round and then dinner, too. Although her nice boyfriend might be boring, Faye seemed happier than she had in a long time. Maybe the grass will always be greener on the other side, but sometimes the heart makes us happier than the head.

And I even managed to forget about the security officer who sat at the far end of the bar. 

***

Thank you for reading :) xxx

***

These chapters just keep getting longer--mainly because I don't want to split them up into multiple parts and drag out the pace of the story. Anyway, let me know what you prefer... Would you rather the longer chapters were broken up, or don't you mind it? 

Ed & Soph's romantic dinner is coming next. How do you think it'll go?