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Going to the window, she stared out at the rose garden.
James ran his hands through his hair. What had he done?
‘I’m sorry,’ he began. ‘I didn’t know any of that.’
‘Does it matter? You still judged me.’
‘That goes both ways.’
She shrugged. ‘So, we’re now in an even worse position than before. We hate each other and the festival’s about to fail, taking both our families with it.’
‘I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.’
There was a pause before she replied. ‘Please don’t tell anyone about the paintings being reproductions. Only me, Henry, and our parents know.’
‘I won’t.’ Going to her side, he gazed at the set of her jaw. ‘I’m sorry for what I said. I wish I’d taken my frustration out on the rowing machine and not you.’
She gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘It must have been a nightmare for you in China.’
‘It was the most stressful period of my life. Even worse than—’ He broke off and sighed. ‘Are you up for brainstorming how to turn the festival around? I want to do this with you.’
Turning away from the window, she took the printout from Zeke, then sat on the chaise longue. He joined her, making sure there were a few inches between them. She may have hated him, but every part of him still wanted her.
‘See for yourself.’ She handed him the piece of paper. ‘We’re not sold out yet and we should have been months ago.’
He ran his eyes over the figures. Ticket sales had started strong then petered out. He pointed at the week they started to fall. ‘This was when I cut the advertising budget.’
She nodded. ‘And now I know we can’t resurrect it, whatever we do for promotion has to be free.’
‘I’ve been speaking to more companies about sponsorship, but without being able to meet them face-to-face, so far it’s come to nothing. Can you talk to the acts and ask them to promote it more?’
‘I already have, and most of them have done something. I’m just hoping all the UberGraft fans that couldn’t get tickets for Glastonbury will come to our festival to see them.’
James was silent. Even though he knew getting Summer Foxbrooke on board to help with promotion would help, he didn’t want to suggest the idea and risk the fragile peace between him and Estelle.
There was another knock at the door.
‘Come in,’ Estelle called out.
Zeke entered the room. ‘Your luggage has arrived from Heathrow,’ he said to James. ‘It’s in the entry hall. Do you want me to do anything with it?’
‘No thanks,’ he replied. ‘I’ll deal with it in a minute.’
Zeke left and James let out a sigh. ‘Are the interruptions this constant?’
Estelle nodded. ‘You get used to it. But they’re good people. We can’t let them down.’
James hung his head, pushing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. What a mess.
Feeling a hand on his knee, he glanced up.
‘We’ll find a way,’ she said. ‘We can do this. We’re awesome.’
He huffed. ‘I don’t feel particularly awesome right now. More like a total arsehole.’
A faint smile ghosted across her lips. ‘Is this finally a chink in the Hunter-Savage armour? A small glimpse of humanity lurking inside?’
‘Inside my cold, dead heart?’
