Chapter 16

Sixteen

HENRY

I left London a few days ago in an attempt to calm my nerves about whether or not Lucy will agree to the fake relationship. The hour-long drive provided relaxing scenic views that always reinforced my decision to move to this quiet town.

The anticipation of Lucy’s answer is getting the best of me, not that I would ever share that with her. I can’t pressure her into an answer. If she agrees, it will disrupt her life. It’s a tough decision she needs to make, and I can’t interfere with her choice. The benefit this could bring for me greatly outweighs her benefit of getting an enjoyable movie out of her favorite book.

Perhaps I can even provide her with a better dating experience than she had in the past with her ex from the States. While nothing has been confirmed, I’ve completely written him off as a fool. Without her ever mentioning him, I have filled in the blanks with a villainous story of my own. How could he let her slip through his hands, let alone end it poorly ?

With Lucy, I would woo her without concern that she is wanting for anything. We could simply enjoy each other’s company without any expectations of a romantic relationship while continuing to build on our friendship.

I check my phone again to see if she’s reached out, even though it’s been sitting next to me for the last ten minutes and hasn’t made any notification noises since I last checked. I worry if I stayed in London, I would have made excuses to visit her. This is why it was imperative to come back to my home.

I need something to occupy my mind, I’ll find a book to read from my library.

While browsing my many shelves, I’m drawn to the one with my copies of Jane Austen’s work. The books are old editions, with brown leather covers and wear from the years of attention they’ve received from their previous owners.

During our many discussions Lucy has encouraged me to think about the significance of these books when they were first published. She often mentions how she wishes she could have experienced it at the time. If only we could discover what their lives were like and how these stories affected them.

Staying away from Pride and Prejudice , I move to another favorite of Lucy’s, Northanger Abbey . A less famous book, but the first Jane Austen adaptation I directed early on in my career. Max played Mr. Tilney, a role that suited him well as he is as kind and affectionate as the leading man himself. I read the book at the time, but not since. I pull it off the shelf and make my way to my favorite chair, which faces the large fireplace .

As my disdain for John Thorpe and his scheming sister returns at an accelerated rate, my phone rings, and Lucy’s name appears on the screen. Placing my finger on the page, I close the book to hold it in one hand before sitting up straight in my chair as if she can see me.

“Hello, there,” I greet her.

She doesn’t bother with a greeting in return. “I’ll do it. The fake relationship. I’ll do it.”

I put the book down on the table— I’ll find my page later. “May I ask what brought upon what seems to be a sudden decision?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. I do, however, have one condition, a request, really.”

“Name your price, Miss Taylor.” I would give her anything she asked for.

“If you get the job, I want to visit the sets, all of the sets. And I want you to talk to me about it. The process, how each day is going…I want to feel a part of it. As much as would be allowed for someone who isn’t actually working on the movie.”

“Of course.” Of all the things she could ask for that I would have agreed to without hesitation, she simply asks to be involved and included in the production. She didn’t have to ask for this—I would have included her anyway to keep her included in all areas of my life.

“Okay, thank you.” A brief nervous laugh follows. Did she expect me to exclude her from it? She continues, “So, where should we begin? I am leaving for the holiday on Monday. I’ll be in the States for the week, coming back on Saturday. ”

“Oh, yes. I remember. I’m no longer in London myself. I came home earlier in the week. I suppose I will stay for the duration you are out of town, then we can plan to regroup in London once you return.”

“Henry, do you want to…do you think…”

“What is it?” I ask, nervous she already regrets her decision. If she changes her mind, I will respect her decision, but in this moment, fear floods my body and it has nothing to do with the movie.

“Do you want to talk about this false relationship we are committing to?” She pauses but continues quickly before I can respond. “Will this secret stay between the two of us, or do you plan to let your family know?”

“I haven’t thought of that. I suppose it would be best to keep it between just the two of us.” A slight thrill runs through my body at the thought of the two of us sharing a secret.

“Do you truly think Oliver, Finn, Hannah, and Mia will believe us? Even with us being more civil to each other lately, I don’t know if they would fall for it.” She makes a good point. “Not to mention, if we claimed to be a couple, they would expect displays of affection between us.”

“Yes, I suppose you make a good point.” Displays of affection would have been nice, but I concede without argument. “We can explain the situation and ask them to keep that information to themselves.”

“There is one other person I would like to tell, my best friend, Ellie. She won’t tell anyone, but it would ruin our friendship if I keep this from her.” The worry is gone from her voice. This is more demand than request. It’s very appealing.

“Understood,” I reassure her.

“Thank you. Do you have any other concerns or boundaries you want to discuss?”

“Given our lack of interest in real relationships, I think we can skip the typical ‘let’s not fall in love speech,’ don’t you think?” I insist. Which is why she is the perfect woman to share this venture with.

“Yes, of course. Honestly, if you do get the job. I have grand plans to reacquaint myself with someone I’ve had feelings toward for years…” What? “Mr. Darcy.” Of course, she is looking forward to expanding her feelings for a fictional man. Maybe acting as a fictional boyfriend, I will give Fitzwilliam some competition.

“You can’t see me, but my eyes are rolling,” I tell her with a laugh. “And try to remember that whatever it is Mr. Darcy is doing that makes you feel something for him, it’s me behind him pulling the strings.”

“Oh, don’t do that! Don’t ruin it,” she whines into the phone. “Anyway! Since we won’t be in the same location for some time, we can still begin posting tonight if you’d like.”

“Explain.”

“Do you have a fireplace?” she asks.

“Three.” I’m looking at one right now.

“Gross. Bragging isn’t necessary.”

“My bragging is now your bragging, darling . You can go back to the States and brag about the new man in your life who has a home in the UK with three fireplaces. Two downstairs and one in my bedroom. ”

“Well, with this being your first post about our relationship , dear, we should try to keep it clean. Pick one of the downstairs fireplaces, preferably a lounge. Grab wine glasses, fill them with wine, and place them on a coffee table in front of the fireplace. Then lower the lights and take the photo.”

“Sounds like you may have hidden talents as a director,” I say with pride. I wouldn’t have thought of this, but now that she said it, it makes complete sense. “And what am I to do with two glasses of wine after I finish the photo?”

“Drink them. Alone.” Both are more orders, not requests from Lucy. “Please don’t mistake this next statement for any personal investment on my end for your personal life, but if you are to be in a committed relationship, you can not be found by the paparazzi ‘cheating’ on your girlfriend.”

“No need to get jealous, my love . I am all yours for the foreseeable future.” Since running into Lucy on my shameful morning walk home, I haven’t been interested in meeting anyone new.

“Great,” she says with sarcasm. “You can post the photo this evening if you’d like, and I will send you more ideas as I think of them. I think you should continue with the family photos and the old ones for movie sets as well.”

“All right, I’ll send the fireplace photo to you before I post to be sure I captured your vision.”

“Well, I think that sums up our plan. Have a good night,” Lucy states as if she is ending a business meeting.

“One last thing, Lucy. Thank you. I greatly appreciate your assistance in this matter, and if it works, I’ll never be able to thank you enough. With that said, if at any point this becomes too much and you want to stop, just say the word.”

“Thank you, Henry.”

“Goodnight, love,” I emphasize the endearment and it clearly works because she hangs up without another word.