I can’t help but roll my eyes.
‘For work, I shoot people,’ Damian replies.
‘Oh, don’t say that too loudly around me,’ Mackie chimes in. ‘People will think I’m paying you.’
I swear, everyone is flying so close to the sun, in so many ways, I’m surprised we’re not all on fire. With Mackie and his murder jokes, and Damian falling for Lottie’s act – surely he isn’t?
‘Everyone who takes my picture always tells me what a natural I am,’ she tells the table. There’s a look on Hunter’s face as if he’s heard this a million times.
‘What do you model?’ Damian asks.
‘I do lifestyle-y stuff,’ she says. ‘I enhance products in catalogues and adverts.’
‘Like what?’ I ask curiously.
‘You did that B&Q ad recently, didn’t you?’ Angel offers. ‘Sitting on the patio furniture.’
‘I did, yeah,’ Lottie says. ‘And I’ve modelled with plates, bike helmets, pens – all sorts. I’m hoping to branch out into much more.’
‘Motor oil, draft excluders, Sellotape,’ Hunter whispers.
I like having him in my ear, making me laugh, undermining Lottie who, so far, seems really unlikeable. I hate to see her trying to manipulate Damian.
‘What do you model?’ I ask Hunter.
‘What do you think I model?’ he asks playfully.
‘Motor oil, draft excluders, Sellotape,’ I reply, trying not to smile.
He laughs. God, he looks good when he laughs.
‘I was thinking clothes,’ I say genuinely. ‘You’re stylish but…’
‘But…’ he prompts.
‘Well, male fashion models aren’t usually built like Avengers,’ I point out.
Hunter laughs.
‘I’m a fitness model,’ he says. ‘Pictures of me rarely involve much clothing. I suppose that’s why I like to make an effort when I’m not working.’
‘Well, you look great,’ I tell him.
‘Thanks,’ he says. ‘You do too. I love this dress.’
He strokes the material on the sleeve of my vintage army-green velvet dress.
‘Oh, thanks,’ I say, just a little taken aback by the physical contact. ‘I got this from a vintage boutique in my home town. I always raid the place, whenever I visit my parents. They sell men’s stuff too – you’d love it, if you love fashion and vintage looks.’
‘It kind of sounds like you’re inviting me to meet your parents,’ he says with a cheeky smile.
‘Oh, God, no…’ I babble, until I realise he’s just teasing me.
‘Are you from near London?’ he asks.
‘Yorkshire,’ I reply. ‘So not really… They sell online though – I can give you the info.’
‘Thanks, Sadie, I’d love that. We’re stuck on this… well, whatever this is, boat, island, fort thing for a few days. Maybe we could look together?’
‘I’d really like that,’ I reply.
I look over at Damian and notice him staring. I smile at him until he smiles back.
‘You OK?’ I mouth to him.
An oblivious Lottie is still talking at him, at a million miles an hour.
He nods.
‘Hey, did you hear that, over that side of the table?’ Mackie asks.
We all look over in his direction.
‘There’s an indoor pool here. Why don’t we all meet up there tomorrow morning after breakfast? We could play some games. I love water sports.’
I feel my eyes widen.
‘Oh, yes, Damian, say you’ll come, say you’ll come,’ Lottie whines.
‘I’d love to,’ Damian replies, still staring at me.
‘Oh, yeah, me too,’ I say. Well, I can’t let him go on his own, can I?
‘Well, I was going to try and get out of it,’ Hunter tells me. ‘But if you’re going to be there, I think I will too.’
I smile about 50 per cent of the way, because I don’t want to seem too keen, but I am positively buzzing with excitement.
Suddenly this trip is a lot more interesting…
12
It is on days like today that I wonder why I would ever want to quit my job. Put out of your mind my overly demanding boss and the fact I’m stranded on a sea fortress with a maybe-murderer (don’t put it too far out of your mind though; we have to be vigilant) – this is actually a really cool perk of the job.
I’m in a five-star hotel, sitting by a pool in the atrium, in the heart of the fortress. It’s really warm, as if perhaps they heat the place to make it feel like being poolside abroad, the cocktails are amazing, and I’m so happy I decided to bring my swimming costume just in case. Although, at the time of packing it, I jokily told myself it was just in case I needed to swim to shore… I say jokily but I’ll never rule it out.
The perkiest perk of my job, though, has to be hunky Hunter. I was a bit annoyed the second we walked through the door, when Lottie rushed over and whisked Damian away to introduce him to ‘some people’. I was just standing there, all alone, suddenly feeling really awkward and vulnerable in my swimwear. Damian said he’d be right back but what was I supposed to do until then? Sit and sip mai tais with Mackie?
And then I felt it, a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turned around and Hunter was standing there, in his teeny tiny trunks, soaking wet from swimming, pool water rolling down his abs. Think Daniel Craig in Casino Royale. He asked me if I wanted to grab a drink and have a chat, and here we are.
‘So how do you know the happy couple?’ I ask as I sip maybe the best pina colada I’ve ever had.
‘I’m Ry’s best man,’ he tells me. ‘Best friend, best man. I actually met him through Angel – we were friends first. We’re all in the same circle.’
‘Lottie too?’ I ask nosily.
‘Hmm, yeah,’ he says. ‘I’m not her biggest fan – I'm not sure anyone is. She’s Angel’s BFF.’
‘What’s her deal?’ I ask. ‘Do I need to pry her off my boss?’
‘Ah, he looks big enough to take care of himself,’ Hunter replies. ‘What can I tell you about Lottie…? Well, she’s unofficially blacklisted by most agencies. She can get the Insta ads and the low-paying catalogue gigs but that’s about it. Before she was a full-time influencer…’ Hunter says this in a squeaky Essex accent almost exactly like Lottie’s ‘… she was a model. Specifically, a maternity model.’
I furrow my brow.
‘I guess no one really talks about it,’ he explains. ‘But a lot of the time, maternity models aren’t actually pregnant. A journalist wrote a big feature on it – and before you think I’m really into maternity fashion news, I’m not, but Lottie was just talking about it nonstop when it kicked off. In fact, she still talks about it nonstop. So, there was this article about it, saying it wasn’t fair on models who were pregnant, taking work from them, and some talk about unrealistic body image for pregnant women. But while others were delicately explaining that sometimes shoots are long and strenuous – not what you’d expect a pregnant woman to endure – Lottie was tweeting about how people only wanted to see thin people modelling clothes.’
‘Nice,’ I say sarcastically.
‘Yeah, so the industry turned on her, but she’s had a few celebrity boyfriends. Footballers, popstars – one was from… now, was it One Direction or The Wanted? I forget. We didn’t like him much. She picked up legions of follows via him though.’ Hunter laughs to himself. ‘Ry jokes that Lottie always lands on her back.’
Gosh, maybe I do need to get Damian away from her. But, well, is it my problem? I’m certain it isn’t in my job description. Dumping girls for Damian is enough, I’m not about to start vetting them for him too.
‘So, what’s it like working for the great Damian Banks?’ Hunter asks. ‘I’m pretty sure that’s the only thing I ever hear people refer to him as.’
I laugh. I do hear that a lot.
‘Damian is great,’ I say. Well, he is, so credit where it’s due. ‘Working for him is not so great, if I’m being honest.’
>
‘No?’
I shake my head. Should I really be confiding in a stranger?
‘It’s just not what I want to be doing,’ I say tactfully. ‘Just between us, I’ve applied for a job in an art gallery. I’ve always wanted to be a curator. This would be my foot in the door.’
‘You’ve got to do what makes you happy,’ Hunter says. ‘I love my job now, but I’ve had jobs that I hated, and it’s a big part of your life. Too big to be unhappy.’
‘You’re absolutely right,’ I reply. ‘It’s great that you love your job. I don’t think I could hack it. I know that I should exercise but… I just struggle to see how people enjoy it. It’s a necessary evil – one that I don’t partake in nearly as much as I should. I have so much respect for you. Your hard work is all over your body.’
Hunter makes his pecs dance for me.
I know that I haven’t had much of a love life for a really long time, so this might come across as kind of thirsty, and I don’t mean it exactly how it sounds – Hunter’s body really is a work of art.
‘All the better for smashing everyone at pool volleyball with,’ he says, nodding over towards the pool, where Mackie is attempting to assemble the players. ‘You want to be on my team?’
‘Are you any good?’ I ask, as though there’s a chance he couldn’t be.
‘I’m fantastic,’ he says flirtatiously. ‘My moves would leave you speechless. Are you any good?’
Suddenly I get the feeling we’re not talking about pool volleyball any more… but I can’t risk it.
‘I am absolutely awful,’ I confess with a smile.
Hunter stands up and offers me his hand.
‘Come on, I’ll give you a few pointers before we get started,’ he says.
I reach out for his hand so he can help me up.
As we make our way towards the pool Damian stops us.
‘Hey, Sadie, can I borrow you for a sec?’ he says. ‘Just a work thing.’
‘No worries,’ Hunter says. ‘I’ll see you in there.’
Like something out of a movie Hunter makes a move towards the edge of the pool and dives straight in.
‘Did you just bite your lip?’ Damian chuckles.
Oh, God, did I?
‘No!’ I quickly insist. ‘What’s up?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ he says. ‘I thought you might need saving from him.’
‘Saving?’
‘Looked like he was talking your ear off,’ he says.
‘Oh, no, it’s fine. He’s really nice,’ I reply. ‘Sorry, was I supposed to save you from Lottie?’
‘Nah, she’s harmless,’ he says. ‘She just introduces me to people, talks about herself, and keeps saying how odd it is that she’s never heard of me.’
I nod thoughtfully, minding my own business.
‘What?’ He laughs.
‘Let’s pretend, for a second, for argument's sake, that she could be a model and have never heard of you. Fine. But Mackie has made such a huge deal about you shooting Angel’s wedding – it’s everything she wants – and, what, she’s not mentioned this to her best friend? Hunter says this is all part of her act.’
‘You know I’m not falling for it, right?’ he says plainly.
I hate it when I get overly invested in Damian’s personal matters. I guess, when I manage all other aspects of his life, it’s hard not to take care of him across the board.
‘Well, we’ve got more important things to worry about,’ I tell him. ‘Pool volleyball. Hunter says he’ll make sure I’m on his team. You want in?’
‘Why?’
‘Erm, because he’s good at it,’ I point out. ‘And we’re not.’
‘You’ve never seen me play pool volleyball,’ Damian insists.
‘Yeah, Damian, that’s kind of my point. I’ve never seen you play any sports. You hate sports,’ I pointlessly remind him.
‘Damian, Sadie, come on,’ Mackie calls out. ‘Time to play!’
‘We really should be getting on with some prep work,’ Damian says seriously.
‘Come on, live a little,’ I insist.
‘Fine, fine.’
There’s a net hovering across the shallow end of the pool. On one side – team one – there’s Damian, Mackie, Angel and Lottie. Over on my side – team two – there’s me, Hunter, Ryan and Jo. Jo is being pretty girly about it all, trying not to get her hair wet or pop out of her bikini, but Hunter and Ryan are big, buff sporty men. Even with me and Jo holding them back, they should be able to win easily.
Lottie serves and of course she’s amazing at it. She sends the ball flying over in my direction and – of course – I don’t know what I’m doing so I get the fear and try to dive out of its way.
‘It’s not dodgeball, Sadie,’ she calls over.
‘Wow, Lottie, you’re really good at this,’ Mackie tells her.
‘Oh, well, at boarding school, you get really good at all the girls’ sports – volleyball, netball, hockey,’ she replies. ‘I’m terrible at other things.’
The game gets going again. The ball goes back and forth a few times until Hunter smashes it over the net, sending it hurtling towards Damian who, as I did, instinctively moves out of its way.
‘Sorry, brother,’ Hunter shouts to him. ‘I can get a bit competitive.’
Damian shrugs. A sport was never going to make him feel emasculated; he just doesn’t care. He’s too cool for that.
‘Nothing’s worth taking a ball to the face,’ Damian says.
I snigger to myself.
‘I can give you a few easy ones, if you want a bit of practice,’ Hunter suggests.
I know the look on Damian’s face. It’s the face he makes when he thinks someone is being a dick.
‘It’s just a game, mate,’ Damian replies.
I don’t think Hunter likes being made to look bad. His face falls.
‘You’re pretty chilled out for someone with such a bad-boy reputation,’ Hunter says.
‘Oh, are you a bad boy?’ Lottie says excitedly. As if she doesn’t already know.
Damian just stares at him. Sure, he might have a bad-boy reputation, but I know that isn’t exactly the reality. He definitely doesn’t like confrontation.
‘OK, come on, let’s keep this game moving,’ Ryan demands impatiently, his sportsman’s competitive nature fully kicking in.
The game picks up again. I do my best to keep out of the action – because I’m as terrified as I am useless – but Hunter effortlessly picks up my slack. He hits the ball hard, sending it flying up in the air. Mackie seems to have a few seconds to ready himself for it, to get into position, to line up his response. As the ball reaches him, he jumps up in the air and hits it with all his might, sending it flying at full speed towards Jo.
Poor Jo, she just stares at it. Despite Hunter’s best efforts to get to her in time, the ball hits her in the face. Jo falls back and disappears under the water.
A series of ‘oh’ and ‘oh my Gods’ echoes around the room.
‘Oh, don’t worry, she’s taken balls to the face before,’ Mackie tells us, borrowing Damian’s words but somehow making them sound much worse.
Not only does Jo not immediately pop back up, but there’s a reddish tinge to the water.
Hunter reaches into the water to grab her, pulling her up, dragging her towards the side of the pool. Ryan rushes alongside him, jumping out of the water to help him lift her out.
Jo coughs and splutters until she gets her breath. Her nose is bleeding so Ryan grabs a towel for her.
‘Are you OK?’ Hunter asks.
Jo nods from behind the towel although her eyes look wide with fear as she holds the towel tightly to her face.
‘Ah, there we go, she’s OK,’ Mackie casually announces to everyone. ‘Shall we play on without her for a bit?’
I exchange a look with Damian, who raises his eyebrows at me.
‘Actually, we’d better go get ready for our shoot,’ Damian says. ‘Right, Sadie?’
‘Oh,
gosh, yes,’ I reply. ‘So much to get ready.’
We set everything up earlier, but I want to get out of here just as much as he does. It’s weird – there’s this awkward, horrible, uncomfortable vibe. Jo is like a time bomb; you can tell everyone thinks that way.
‘OK, well, I’ll get ready too,’ Mackie says. ‘Looking forward to it.’
I follow Damian’s lead, heading for the side of the water. We grab our things and head for our suites.
‘Did he… did he do that on purpose?’ Damian asks me quietly.
That’s the question, isn’t it? Either everything people have accused him of is true and it’s only a matter of time before something bad happens, or it really was just a genuine accident, and no one is going to cut Mackie an inch of slack for the rest of his life. Either way, he doesn’t need to worry about it. It’s not like anyone is brave enough confront him about it, is it?
13
‘Maybe I’m going soft,’ Damian says as he messes with the settings on his camera. ‘But I’m feeling bad for bringing you here.’
‘Well, the great Damian Banks doesn’t usually feel bad for anything,’ I tease. ‘So you must be.’
‘Oi, I do feel bad,’ he insists.
‘Just not about things like having me dump women for you or making me give up my evenings so you don’t have to sit in and wait for deliveries, to name a few things,’ I point out semi-playfully. I mean, I’m not trying to have a go at him, but those things are true.
‘Sadie, I’m sorry, did you have plans?’ he replies.
Now I’m not sure if he’s teasing me or not.
‘Not the point,’ I reply with a smile.
Damian abandons his camera to come and sit next to me on the sofa in the room we’re using for the shoot.
‘Sadie, listen, I know I’m a highly strung creative – I can’t even imagine what it’s like to work with me – but, you’d tell me if I were having a negative impact on your life, right? I don’t want you to be unhappy.’
I feel my eyebrows shoot up. This is new. Damian doesn’t usually talk about things like this; he’s usually too busy obsessively looking inward to worry about what’s going on outside his head. I think for a second. Let’s just say there’s a chance I get the assistant curator job – then none of this will matter. Sure, I’m not happy at work now, but if there’s a chance I could change my job soon, it doesn’t seem worth airing my issues, only to quit after he makes moves to resolve them, if he makes moves to resolve them. Up until now I’ve kept my mouth shut because I needed this job. Now it makes more sense to keep things to myself just in case I don’t need this job any more. And, well, if I don’t get the gig, at least he seems like he’s open to fixing things,
Stuck On You Page 7
