Lost in Scotland

by Hilaria Alexander

  “Don’t you have anything to say?” he asked with a smirk.

  “What do you mean?” I said, confused.

  “Sam, we won! A fucking Golden Globe! We’ve done it. The show won’t get cancelled now.”

  Duh, of course that’s what he meant.

  “Yes! I’m so happy, honey. I’m so proud of you,” I told him, caressing his face just as Quinn had done a moment before. I tried to smile again, but it felt like I was grimacing. Eric didn’t seem to notice, just ran his fingers through my long dark hair and pressed his body against mine, giving me another kiss.

  With tongue this time.

  I closed my eyes, repulsed by his touch. I wanted to gag, but I couldn’t let him know anything was wrong. I couldn’t let him know I knew.

  Still, I couldn’t respond to his kiss as eagerly as I usually would.

  Suddenly, he stopped.

  “Babe, are you okay?” Eric asked, his brows furrowed, showing concern. Fucker.

  I swallowed and shook my head. “I’m fine.”

  He tipped my chin up and studied my face.

  “You look like you’ve been crying.”

  “Well, it’s been an eventful evening, and I was so happy when we won, I couldn’t stop the tears,” I said, running a finger under my eyes, cleaning up the last few smudges of makeup. I sniffled. In that moment, he looked worried, handsome, attentive. In that moment, he was the perfect boyfriend—but in reality, he was a liar. He was a cheater. I wanted to scream in his face. I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to suffer. How could he do this to me? How could he cheat on me on a night like this? How long had he been doing it behind my back?

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, I swear I am! It’s just…I’m a little drunk, and my emotions are all over the place.”

  “Yeah. Me, too,” he said with a dreamy look, hugging me closer to him and grabbing a handful of my ass.

  Fuck you. And fuck Quinn.

  I wasn’t going to go down quietly.

  I was going to take everyone down with me.

  “Ready to go?” he asked, and I nodded, a million different thoughts and scenarios running through my head.

  Don’t make rash decisions. As much as causing a scene at the after-party sounds like a good idea, you’re just going to end up looking like the crazy girlfriend.

  Take your time.

  What do they say about revenge?

  It’s a dish best served cold.

  Eric held my hand as we walked out of the ballroom toward the valet. We waited outside the Beverly Hilton and then got in a car to head to the Vanity Fair party. Eric was busy checking his phone, and as I stared at him, so careless and oblivious, I felt sick.

  My stomach was churning. We hadn’t had anything to eat, and then I’d downed at least five glasses of champagne. I was lightheaded. I wanted to scream at Eric, sitting next to me as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just been kissing another woman half an hour ago. His eyes met mine, and I wanted to cry and let my disappointment spill everywhere. Instead, I looked away.

  “Sam, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t feel good. I think I might need to go home.” I couldn’t bear the idea of partying with him and everyone else, having to pretend I was happy for all of us. I didn’t want to be around Quinn and act like we were friends.

  He scoffed at my words. “Sam, come on. You’ll feel better later. How can you bail now? I thought you wanted to go to this party…” He searched my eyes but I looked away. He was right. I had wanted to go to the party.

  Not anymore.

  “I don’t want to bring morale down, and I don’t want to end up getting sick while I’m there. I know I’ll be better off if I go home.” He rolled his eyes and ran one of his hands through his hair, frustrated.

  “What’s gotten into you?” he asked, and for a moment, his eyes looked fearful, as if he knew I knew. Then, as the car stopped, he changed expression. He turned on the light and tipped my chin up, examining my face.

  “You know, you do look a little pale. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s better you call it a night.” Right. This way, you’ll be able to sneak around with your mistress. He gave me a peck on the lips and another one on my forehead. I wanted to cry. I wanted all of it to be a bad dream. I wanted to wake up next to him as if nothing had happened.

  I wanted to be able to love him and trust him again, trust him like I had just an hour before. He said good-bye, and as he left the car, I felt as if I had lost a part of myself. I felt as if a huge part of my life was suddenly over.

  On the ride home, my feelings alternated between anger and sadness as the driver tried to make small talk. I replied to him absentmindedly, unable to think of anything but the scene of betrayal I’d just witnessed. I was heartbroken, but I knew I wasn’t letting Eric Oliveira walk away unscathed. I got a text from my sister.

  Where are you?

  Not feeling good. Too much bubbly. On my way home.

  What? That’s a bunch of bullshit. You were so looking forward to this.

  I overdid it with the champagne. Why does no one tell you you have to skip the red carpet to get served dinner in there?

  I know. I’ve made the same mistake before, trust me.

  I told Amira goodnight, but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hide this from her. She could always read me like an open book, and my mother could, too. She was going to know something was up.

  I needed to talk to her.

  I called her and she answered after a couple rings.

  “Mom, I need your help.”

  That night, I resisted the urge to break everything Eric owned or was sentimentally attached to. I resisted the impulse to set the house on fire. The fabric of the train of my designer gown rustled on the smooth floor as I paced the living room, trying to calm myself down and decide what I needed to do. I managed to get myself out of the dress and get ready for bed, never turning the lights on, enjoying the quiet, and I went to bed with tears streaming silently down my cheeks. I closed my eyes but couldn’t sleep, so I lay under the sheets, naked, plotting my revenge.

  Sam

  August

  “It’s so beautiful, Mom.” I pointed the camera of my phone to the scenery in front of me.

  “I can see that. It's just as stunning as you see on TV. So green.”

  “It's almost too much to take in all at once.”

  Scotland was intimidating in a mysterious kind of way. California was what I had known all my life, and I’d barely even spent any time around the United States. Save a few times in London with my father and my siblings to visit my grandparents, I hadn’t been anywhere else in the world. Scotland was as foreign and new as it could get, but now, it was going to be my home for the next eight months. I switched the camera back to me.

  “Have you met any of your coworkers?”

  “Not yet, just one of Mira’s friends, Lainey. She picked me up at the airport and took me to my place. I have a roommate, but I haven't met her yet. Some of the crew was out bonding last night. I missed it.”

  “Oh, well. You’ll have time to get to know them. You’re lucky you got this gig at the last minute.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Samhain, everything will be fine. You’re a talented makeup artist. You know you got this job because of your extensive resume and not just because of a phone call.”

  If you say so, I wanted to tell her, but I just nodded. I hoped my mother couldn't tell how scared I was. I knew I was overreacting—I was twenty-nine-years-old, for crying out loud. I was acting like a kid leaving for college, but this actually was my first time away from home, away from my family, my friends…my sister, my brother. I was going to miss them so much.

  “Maybe I’ll come visit you,” my mother said. “I heard the male lead on this production is quite the hunk,” she joked. I saw her wink through the screen, and just like that, she brought the smile back to my face and washed away my fears. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

 
; “Mom!”

  “What? I might be old, but I’m not dead. I can appreciate a handsome man when I see one.” She shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone cute.”

  “I don’t think so. My goal is to lay low for a while. Love only leads to drama.” I knew that all too well.

  “Oh, honey…I’m not talking about love—”

  Oh, Jesus.

  “Mom, come on.”

  “No, Sam, let me say what I have to say. Sweetheart, you’re still young. Have your fun while you can. You know that’s why I never liked the fact that you and Eric got so hot and heavy when you were just twenty-two. You spent your best years with a man who didn’t deserve you.”

  I nodded and pressed my lips into a tight smile. She was right, of course—as was everyone else with their I-told-you-so’s. I was the fool who had loved him blindly for too long, getting nothing in return. I had gotten my revenge on the cheating bastard, but it had kind of backfired in a way I hadn’t expected. Now, for the next eight months, I would have to call Scotland my home.

  I heard footsteps coming from behind me, and I turned around.

  The hill I had attempted to climb was deserted. I was alone. In that moment, it dawned on me that maybe this hadn't been the smartest decision. I shouldn't have ventured out by myself; I was in a foreign country, and I didn’t know anyone.

  But the scenery had been so inviting.

  I barely detected my mother saying, “What is it, honey?” I was too focused on the noise. A moment later, a tall guy in a baseball cap and athletic gear reached the small, flat spot where I had been chatting with my mom. He was wearing a windbreaker and shorts.

  Shorts! I was huddled in a knee-length puffer jacket, and just the sight of him in shorts made me shiver. He lifted his head and the sight of his ice-blue eyes made me shiver again. He looked at me for just a second, nodding his head in my direction.

  “Hello,” he said in a deep, uber-manly voice, one of those that could make you swoon even saying the most boring and generic stuff. He had me at hello.

  “Hi,” I replied, frozen.

  His eyes shifted to the phone in my hand. My mother kept calling my name from her office in Los Angeles. The stranger stared at me for another second, and then he gave an imperceptible shake of his head. The corner of his lips curled into a smile.

  Ugh. Fucking embarrassing. I had been caught FaceTiming with my mom. This would be a really good time to lose reception, but noooo. My mother kept calling out to me, but I was sort of frozen on the spot, staring at the handsome stranger.

  Yes, handsome. I stared at him all of five seconds, but that was enough to see his face—and what a face it was. He had the most perfect features: straight nose, strong jaw, high cheekbones. His eyes were sharp blue and gorgeous, and with just one look, they were melting my insides.

  “Samhain! Are you okay, honey? What’s wrong?”

  “Mom, hang on a sec,” I said, completely distracted by the vision in front of me.

  He quickly walked past me and kept climbing up the steep slope, making it look so effortless.

  “What is it, honey?” my mother asked again.

  “Nothing, Mom. Just some mountain climber,” I said in a lower tone, raising my eyebrows, hoping the stranger wouldn’t hear me. He kept moving just as steadily as he had a moment before. He had to be a pro—he moved way too quickly to be a regular person. I was a fan of hikes, but my expertise was limited to canyons in the valley. This California girl was no match for real mountains like the peaks of Scotland. I had been out of breath in minutes. It must have been the altitude or perhaps the fact that my body was not made for strenuous exercise, no matter how hard I tried. I might not have had a lot of time to look at the stranger, but since I got to stare at his back for a little bit, I knew the rest of his body was as good-looking as his face. He had broad shoulders and muscular, lean legs—no wonder he made it look so damn easy, effortless even. His thin shorts revealed the curve of his ass and that alone was…spectacular.

  I sighed. It had been too long, what felt like forever since I’d lusted after a guy. I guess I wasn't broken after all. Good to know. If I had more stamina and no shame, I would have followed him up the mountain. I would have committed to following that ass anywhere.

  “Mom, I have to go. I need to get back to the townhouses. Maybe I can catch my roommate before my orientation.”

  “All right, honey. Text me, okay?”

  My phone buzzed in my pocket as soon as I hung up the phone. It was my sister Amira. To the world, she might have been the talented Golden Globe and Oscar nominee Mira Farouk, but to me, she was just my little sister. She was only three years younger than me, but I had always been very protective of her, even more so since she decided at a young age that she was going to become an actress.

  Did you find JAMMF yet?

  WHO?

  Jamie Alexander Malcom MacKenzie Fraser. Good heavens. How many times do I have to tell you, Sam? You really need to meet Jamie motherfucking Fraser.

  Are we still talking about this? He’s a FICTIONAL CHARACTER, Mira.

  He is real! He must be. There must be a modern version of Jamie Fraser up there in Scotland.

  Again, he is fictional, straight out of the mind of a very brilliant woman. That doesn’t make him more real.

  Book boyfriends are REAL, Samhain!

  She typed, adding a slew of emoticons.

  Mira, are you high?

  Maybe. ;-) But, seriously! Why have you not read the books I sent to your tablet? How can you call yourself my sister?

  You know primetime TV has a grueling schedule, and in the last few months, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything.

  I had been too busy vegging out on her couch.

  You’ll change your mind once you read the books! And then you’ll realize how stubborn you’ve been all along. It’s not fair that you’re the one who gets to go to Scotland!

  Right. Lucky me. I would rather be in LA, working, possibly.

  Not that I’m not thankful you got me this job. It’s just…lots of changes.

  Sam, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sure you’re going to have a lovely time. Annndd, I saw the pic of the male lead on this production. He is HOT!

  God bless. Why had I not Googled the guy? First, my mother, and now my sister. Now that I thought about it, I was pretty sure even Lainey had made some comment about him. There I was and I hadn’t even bothered to check him out. Truth be told, I had been busy the last few days, getting ready to leave on a moment’s notice.

  Okay, Mira. Calm down, all right? I promise to text back as soon as I find JAMMF.

  I added a winky and a kissy emoticon and put the phone back in my pocket. A gust of wind blew through me, making me shiver inside my parka, and I shook as I tried to put my gloves back on. It was only August for crying out loud, and it was already cold. The next few months were going to suck.

  Hugh

  I felt as if I had been holding my breath for weeks, months even—probably ever since I had been cast as Abarath. Now that I was in St. Martin, I felt like I could exhale again. I hadn’t been back there since I was a kid.

  Scotland was my home. It was the place where I grew up, the place in the world I loved the most. Being in the mountains was one of the great things about working on this project, and I finally felt I was in my element.

  Even as I climbed up higher and the altitude started affecting my lungs, I finally felt at peace.

  For months, I had been afraid the project would fall through, scared the investors would back out. It had happened so many times before. I would get a part, one that was sure to help me getting noticed, and it never failed: either the show/movie/play got cancelled altogether or it didn’t make as big of an impact as predicted.

  I had almost given up on the idea of ever becoming a successful actor.

  Year after year, I had been scrambling, jumping from gig to gig. A lot of times, I had to swallow my pride and take whatever was available jus
t to keep going, to keep working. I had been in the business for a while, and yet, I could hardly make a living in my profession. It had been ten years since I had graduated from the Royal Scottish Academy. After that, I had also studied in London, auditioning for a few parts here and there. I had small arcs on soap operas, but there never seemed to be the right role for me, one where I could showcase my abilities. I was always told I was too tall, that I was too built to play a young boy and was too inexperienced to be cast as a leading man. I even spent a year in Los Angeles, vying for pilot season, but nothing good ever came along, and after a while, I had to make the decision to go back home.

  In the end, it was better working on soap operas than nothing at all.

  When I decided to start acting, I knew what I was signing up for. I was aware that this job was not going be easy, but I also knew that giving up on my dream would be the equivalent of giving up a part of my soul. There was nothing I liked more than being on a stage or in front of a camera.

  Maybe one of these days I was going to make it. I knew I just had to stick with it and persevere. I had to remind myself that so many actors get their big break later in life. Sometimes, when I’d feel down about myself, I would resort to listing the names of all the actors that made it big after decades of being in the business. If they had done it, I could do it, too. I just needed to keep at it and work harder.

  I couldn’t allow myself to get distracted by anything else.

  My craft was my only focus. Maybe one day I would get the role of a lifetime, like Jon Hamm in Mad Men or Christoph Waltz in Inglourious Basterds.

  Giving up on acting was not an option.

  When Abarath’s producers told me I got the role, I was elated—at first.