Page 67 of Butterfly
She wraps her scarf around her neck and kisses my cheek. “Be back soon.”
I grin at her contagious enthusiasm…until I face the snow in the backyard. Sodding hell.
It takes me hours to clean the glasshouse from the snow, and Sienna isn’t back yet. She texted, telling me the donkey was fine and that she and Charlie would be home soon. But now they’re who knows where. Even Dart gave up playing in the snow and returned home to sleep in front of the fire. I snatch my phone from my pocket when it rings, but growl when Vance’s name blinks on the screen.
“Yes?” I snap, answering the call.
“It’s bloody Christmas. Try to be nice.” He coughs into the phone. “And I’m calling to give you some good news.”
“What?”
“It’s official. Rebecca is going to directJadeand she wants you, despite all the chaos you created out of nothing.”
I grip the phone harder, my feet sinking into the snow. “I didn’t create any chaos, and I’m not doing anything unless the script has changed.”
“Does the script matter when a director like Rebecca wants you?” He chuckles, that raspy sound that’s almost a cough.
“It does. I’m not doing another sexy role, V.”
“We’ll see.” His tone is lowering. “You know, it’s not only your arse on the line.”
“But it’s my arse on the screen.”
He exhales. “We’ll talk when you’re reasonable again.” He hangs up on me, which makes me want to throw the damn phone against the glasshouse.
I’m boiling by the time I enter the kitchen.
“Thank you, darling.” Mum hands me a hot cup of tea as soon as I step inside, brushing snowflakes from my hair. The scent of Christmas pudding tickles my hunger.
“Any time.” I check my phone again to see if Sienna texted me, but Mum puts a hand on mine before I can swipe the screen.
“Take a seat.” She points at the chair next to her. “Can we talk?”
“Of course.” I slip the phone back into my pocket and sit down. “What’s the matter? Are you all right? Is something wrong with those headaches you told me about? Did you have that scan?”
“Lord no, calm down.” She sits next to me. Her wedding ring shines in the light. I can’t remember ever seeing her without it. “I wanted to talk about Sienna.”
“Are you okay with her staying here?” What if Mum doesn’t like her?
“Of course. She’s lovely, and that’s why we’re having this conversation.”
“I’m lost.”
“Don’t be, darling.” From a hay basket behind her, she produces a few magazines. Cheap tabloids I had no idea Mum was interested in.
“Do you read those?” I crane my neck to read the scandalous titles.
“Sometimes, like everyone, but I always deny it when asked. Like everyone.” She winks. “You’re featured in them quite often.” She flips through the pages. “Every time you date a beautiful actress, you appear on the front page.” She shows me a few of those. Me with Emily, me with Natalie—the latest Bond girl—me with other random women. “They say Emily Lawrence is your fiancée. Will she call me mum soon?” She hands me an article that not only declares Emily and I are going to marry, but even gives the exact date—next June—and the destination of our honeymoon—Argentina. At least the destination is wonderful.
“Hell, no.” I scoff. “Just because someone gets a picture of me with a woman, it doesn’t mean I’m dating her, or marrying her.” I sip my tea to hide my nervousness. Where is she going with this?
“I know, but I also know that you date a lot.” She raises an eyebrow in disapproval. “Why shouldn’t you? Young, rich, handsome, and surrounded by beautiful women.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.” I spy on her from over the rim of my cup.
“What about Sienna?” She waves at the pictures. “I hope this is going to stop now that she’s in your life.”
“Mum—”