Making Love (Destiny Book 1)

by Catherine Winchester

  Will was thrilled with it and I was glad I’d gone to the trouble.

  Will bought me a bottle of my two favourite perfumes (a daytime scent and a more sensual, night time one), then when Emily, who was playing Santa and handing out the gifts, announced a second present from him to me, he looked guilty and swiped the bag Emily tried to hand to me before I could reach it. He turned towards me as we sat on the sofa.

  “Now, I know you said that I wasn’t to go mad with presents, and I don’t think I have and besides, this isn’t just a Christmas present.”

  I felt bad that he looked so guilty, although I thought I’d been doing a good job of hiding my money qualms recently. What the hell could he have in that bag that would make me angry enough to worry him? It wasn’t a huge bag, only about the size you’d give a CD or DVD in.

  He sat the bag on his lap and reached his right hand into it, then he took my right hand in his left.

  “I have something to say before I give this to you, but I’ll try to be quick,” he teased.

  I didn’t care if he wanted to deliver a monologue, I loved listening to him talk.

  “Since we’ve been together, I can honestly say that I’ve never been happier. We’ve had ups and downs, as everyone does, but overall you have improved my life immeasurably. Since you moved in, it’s only confirmed how I already felt, that we are perfect for each other. So, Elle, I have something very important to ask you.”

  He slipped from the sofa and onto one knee in front of me.

  “Eleanor Greystone,” he finally took his hand out of the bag and was holding a small, grey velvet box, which he opened to reveal a trio of square cut diamonds, set in a beautiful platinum band.

  My hands covered my mouth.

  “Will you marry me?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I could feel tears pricking my eyes as I looked at him and I blinked rapidly, trying to dispel them.

  I opened my mouth to answer but found that I was too choked up to speak.

  He looked worried; did he think I was going to refuse him? Granted, we had only been living together for about two months, and I had shown signs of being slightly commitment phobic, maybe, but I wanted this.

  I nodded my head in lieu of speaking, and his expression transformed into a grin. He took the ring from the box and I gave him my left hand so he could slip it onto my finger, which caused my tears to fall. The ring fit perfectly and I enveloped him in a huge hug, while his family applauded.

  “Right, I’ll get the champagne out,” Diane said, and I realised that they had all been in on this. When I saw the champagne in the fridge, I’d just thought they liked fancy Christmas meals, I hadn’t dreamed it was for this.

  Will pulled away then kissed me, which caused Emily to lob a ball of wrapping paper at his head, crying, “Get a room!”

  Sisters, who’d have them?

  We laughed as we separated and went around Jack, Emily and Diane, accepting their congratulations. Then we sipped champagne in celebration, before everyone made a toast.

  I offered to help Diane prepare dinner but she refused, and we sat down to eat mid-afternoon. There was enough food to feed a small army and we ate, drank and were merry.

  After dinner, Emily put Christmas songs on and we mimed along and danced. Slowly the alcohol and rich food took its toll on the others and by 6pm, they were getting drowsy.

  Will and I were slow dancing to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, next to the Christmas tree, but when Jack began to snore, Will nuzzled my ear.

  “What do you say we leave these old fogies to sleep and go and have our own celebration?”

  I nodded and we slipped from the room, creeping upstairs so as not to wake the others.

  ***

  After that magical Christmas day, my doubts began to set in.

  Was it too soon? Should I have said no? Will was pretty busy this year, so when was the wedding even going to be? Was he planning on one of those endless engagements and in five years’ time, nothing will have changed?

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have the guts to broach the subject with him. And we were pretty busy. On the 27th of December we left Suffolk and headed to Manchester, for a flying visit to Mum (one night, one meal) then we headed onto Edinburgh and to my sister, who insisted we stay with her for New Years/Hogmanay.

  They had a pretty nice house, actually, and Will and I took the spare room.

  On the 29th Hannah and I went out to lunch and I told her about my engagement. I hadn’t told anyone else yet (I’d taken the ring off when we visited Mum and only put it back on once I’d told Hannah).

  She was thrilled and when I told her about my doubts, she told me I was worrying over nothing. Will had worked his charm on her too and now she was his biggest fan.

  So I kept my worries to myself.

  The wedding announcement went into the paper on the 2nd of January and I stayed off the internet, save for my personal accounts, for the next week. That didn’t stop me seeing magazine covers and to make matters worse, my picture was on the front cover of a few. I took to wearing hats and glasses when I went out during the day.

  I could tell that Will noticed but he didn’t say anything.

  In December, Will had been nominated for the Screen Actors Guild awards. He received a nomination for Best Film Actor for Ludwig, and Blood Moon netted his co-star Jess a Best Supporting Actress nod.

  Then on January 15th, he received his first Oscar nominations. For Ludwig, Will got a best actor nomination, and the film also received Best Editing, Best Director and Best Supporting Actress. Blood Moon received nominations for Best Costume Design, Visual Effects and Best Editing.

  Put simply, if he won, Will’s fame was about to go from ‘the internet’s darling’ to ‘stratospheric’.

  Which was wonderful in terms of his career and I was thrilled about that, but what about me? If he was canny, and I knew he was, he could use this as a stepping stone and become the next Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt, and those poor guys couldn’t sneeze without it being headline news.

  I couldn’t live my life like that, constantly under a microscope.

  The Screen Actors Guild awards were first, on the 25th of January, and we headed to LA for them. No matter how worried I was about the fame, I couldn’t not support him. Besides, I was ridiculously proud of him, the films he had been nominated for were beyond excellent (and before you say anything, no, of course I’m not biased).

  Will also had a few meetings while we were there, with the Shadow Watch executives, and of course, a lot of press. Apparently winning an Oscar isn’t just about good acting, you have to mount a publicity campaign and meet and greet the right people. So we arrived there on the 20th to give some interviews and attend some events.

  The parties were fine, I was getting used to them. I might even go so far as to say that I enjoyed some of them. I attended the interviews but wouldn’t agree to take part, even although Lee tried to convince me to; he said our engagement was good press.

  The awards themselves were very much like a premiere, except that after the red carpet, we watched an awards show rather than a film. Will won Best Actor and Ludwig won Best Film, which boded well for the Oscars.

  Will was thrilled, obviously.

  How could I tell him that a part of me, the unkind and selfish part that I’d like to deny existed, wanted him to lose at the Oscars?

  I couldn’t, so I just had to keep my fears to myself, smile and get through the awards season.

  ***

  We returned to England at the beginning of February to attend the BAFTA Awards. It was good to be home and get away from the Hollywood falseness and platitudes. The British could be superficial and fake too, but it was a fake that I had grown up with and was used to, so it wasn’t as grating as I found LA at times.

  I was in the bath, two days before the BAFTAs, when Will came in, looking grave.

  “Who died?” I teased.

  He put the toilet seat down and sat there but he didn’t speak
.

  “Will?”

  “The press know how we met,” he admitted, unable to meet my eyes.

  “What!”

  “They found out about Katie’s study, they know that’s how we met.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know,” Will rested his elbows on his knees and looked down at the floor. “Destiny, my PR firm, have been receiving calls, asking for a statement from us. They’ve also received a number of interview requests.”

  “But who told them?” The number of people who knew about the experiment was tiny.

  “Lee is seeing what he can find out but reporters are allowed to protect their sources, so unless someone admits it, we may never know.”

  What a horrific thought, never knowing who among my closest friends had betrayed me. If we couldn’t find out, how would I ever trust anyone again?

  “I’m sorry,” Will told me, looking over to see how I was taking the news.

  “Why? You didn’t tell them, did you?”

  “No, but if it wasn’t for me, nobody would care how we met.”

  I felt as if he was right so to my shame, I didn’t try to reassure him.

  I could almost feel the chasm forming between us in that moment, and I’m ashamed to say that I did nothing to close it.

  When I got out of the bath, I began composing a list of who knew, determined to interrogate each of them until I discovered who could no longer be trusted.

  ***

  My list was exactly five names long; Katie, whose study it had been, my sister Hannah, my mother, and my friends Marie and Laurie. There was always the possibility that it was someone Will had told, but he was used to handling the media, so I doubted he’d told anyone who might leak it.

  The next morning, I began with Hannah, Skyping her as soon as I knew she’d be back from taking the kids to school.

  Will didn’t have a daily paper but I’d already looked up a few online, and a few gossip and fan sites. The papers were salivating but the gossip mongers and fan sites were brutal.

  “Hi,” she grinned at me.

  “Have you seen the papers today?” I wasn’t messing around.

  “No, Bob brings one home from the office,” she frowned. “Why?”

  “They know how Will and I met. Have you said anything to Mum?”

  “Of course not, I gave you my word.”

  “Have you said anything to anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Not even Bob?”

  “Well of course him, I tell him everything, and we didn’t even know who Will was then, remember, you were hiding it from us.” She was getting angry with my accusations and rationally, I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t feeling particularly rational just then though.

  “So did you tell anyone else?”

  “Why would I?”

  “I don’t know, just to make conversation, maybe?”

  “Look,” she took a deep breath and leaned forward. “I get that this must be hard for you, and I even understand your accusing tone, but I haven’t done anything wrong. And Bob wouldn’t have told anyone either, you know he’s not one to gossip.”

  “Did you tell the girls?”

  “No, they’re not old enough to understand anyway.”

  “Could they have overheard you talking and told a school friend.”

  “Contrary to your inflated ego, we don’t spend all day talking about you and your fancy man! I don’t think I’ve even thought about how you and Will met since you two came up here for Hogmanay.”

  “Okay,” there really wasn’t much else I could say, was there? “Sorry if I sounded accusatory.”

  I could see her deflate a little. “I get it, Elle, and I’m sorry this happened, but you can't go around accusing people.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” I signed off soon after that, determined to move onto the next call. I wondered about that lie detecting software I’d read about, that was supposed to measure stress in the voice. I wondered if I could buy and install it before I called anyone else? Then I wondered if I was losing my mind.

  Next I phoned Katie on her mobile. I got her voicemail the first three times but it rang on the fourth try.

  “Hey, I’m glad you called,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve been run off my feet with calls all morning. Next time you decide to go public, how about a heads up.”

  “We didn’t leak this,” I assured her.

  “Then what happened?”

  “I was hoping you might know,” I confessed with a sigh.

  “I haven’t told anyone.”

  “Couldn’t one of your staff have told someone? Or the professors reviewing your work?”

  “If I could afford to have staff, I wouldn’t be answering my own phone this morning,” she sighed. “As for the research, each subject has a code that identifies them but even on the master list, that only I should have access to, Will’s name was never entered. I called him Thomas Williams.”

  “How did the press find you then?”

  “My study isn’t a secret, I even placed a couple of ads online looking for volunteers.”

  I sighed, another dead end.

  “One of the reporters did say something interesting though,” she said a second later. “It’s what made me think that you had leaked it for the publicity.”

  “What?”

  “I’m just trying to remember the exact wording. It was the guy from TMZ, he said he’s the one who broke the story and when I denied that Will had ever taken part in my study, I think he said that he got the information from a close relative of yours.”

  “Mine, not Will’s?”

  “Yeah, he said your name.”

  “That was his exact wording?”

  “I think so. He might have said just family member, or someone close to you, but I’m 99 percent sure he said ‘close’ and ‘relative’.”

  The only person who fit that description was Hannah.

  “And he said he got it directly from them?”

  “Yeah. He said they were his source.”

  Hannah might have spoken out of turn but she wouldn’t talk directly to a gossip site.

  “He might have been bluffing. Did you confirm anything?” I asked.

  “No, I just kept saying that I can’t comment on individual participants. Well, I did say that, now I just say ‘no comment’ and hang up.”

  “I’m sorry.” I felt guilty for the hassle this was causing her, and finally understood a little why Will felt responsible when his celebrity caused me difficulties.

  “It’s not your fault. If anything it’s mine, for taking Will up on his offer to participate.”

  “You couldn’t have predicted this.”

  We said goodbye soon after that and I thought about what I’d learned. At least I could be fairly sure that the blame didn’t lie with Will now, so I had learned something.

  I had similarly bad luck with Marie and Laurie, so I just had to hope that Lee discovered the source, or I’d end up a paranoid recluse.

  And foolishly, I had to keep looking online. It was as if my relationship was a car crash that I was unable to look away from.

  ‘The Wileanor engagement conspiracy theories’

  Wileanor? Really? What a horrible nickname.

  Weird relationship names aside, from there it just got worse.

  ‘Was Braxton Brainwashed?’

  ‘The Way to Will Braxton’s Heart is Science’

  ‘Can Will Braxton be De-programmed?’

  ‘Experiment, or Brainwashing?’

  ‘Bag Your Will B with 34 Minutes and 36 Questions’

  ‘Did Will Braxton get engaged to further his Oscar chances?’

  ‘Will Braxton’s Love Story; Coincidence or Conspiracy?’

  I hardly left the house for the next two days, for fear of running into a reporter or a rabid fan. Will was almost constantly on his phone

  “Elle? Lee would like a word,” Will said, coming into the office and brandishing his mobile. “Do you mind?”

&
nbsp; I nodded and accepted the phone, “Hello, Lee.” I probably sounded as cool as I felt.

  “Elle, won’t you at least consider talking to some people on the red carpet?” he asked what he’d been getting Will to ask for the last two days.

  “I’m not a celebrity and I don’t want to give interviews!” I snapped. I loved Lee, really I did, until he tried to pressure me into doing something I really didn’t want to.

  “People are going to want to know about your unusual meeting and not answering those questions is only going to hinder his Oscar chances.”

  “My hogging his limelight on the carpet isn’t exactly going to help that, is it?”

  “I’d much rather you had agreed to do a chat show and get your side of the story out there, but this is the next best thing.”

  “I’m sorry, Lee, I just can't.” The very idea terrified me. How was I going to hold my head up high while people literally accused me of brainwashing Will? Or suggested that our engagement was anything to do with helping him win the Oscar? Or outright asked if our whole relationship was fake?

  “Okay.” Lee sighed, as if I were some kind of errant child. “You are still coming to the BAFTAs tonight though, right? We’ll keep you away from the press, if that’s what you really want.”

  “I’m going,” I answered. “And yes, that is what I want.”

  I passed the phone back to Will and returned to my work, determined not to get ready for the awards a minute before I had to. I had also eschewed getting my hair and make-up professionally done, as if the more normal I behaved, the more normal I’d feel. Besides, it’s not like I’m the star in this relationship.

  I wore a rather frumpy, black dress (well it is February and, pardon my language, bloody freezing) and I wasn’t a celebrity, so I didn’t need to peddle my flesh as some other women did that night.

  Despite my refusing his requests, Lee brought a colleague along to act as my handler and ensure that no one from the press could corner me while Lee and Will were distracted.

  As we made our way along the carpet, I heard Will field questions about how we met and he handled it with aplomb, but it made me feel hellishly uncomfortable and I cringed each time he answered, wondering what new conclusions people would jump to.