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“He can’t be trusted,” Oscar huffs. “Can we at least plan a night in or something? I’d like to catch up with my friend.”
I’ve really put him out, and I feel shit about it.
“Of course. I’m sorry. We’re catching up now,” I say. “Maybe I can come to you,” I suggest, knowing Callan will argue with me being at mine or me bringing Oscar to his.
“Yeah, sure, fancy a quick visit to that boutique around the corner?” He sounds dejected and looks worse. Guilt is clawing its way all over me, a constant niggle in my brain.
“Oscar, I really am sorry,” I say genuinely. I lean over the table and hug him tightly until he reciprocates fully, and we stay like that for a while.
“It’s fine, just as long as you're not going to disappear on me.” I stiffen, but keep my arms around him. My guilt may as well be sitting on my shoulder, its head thrown back as it laughs at my predicament.
“Of course not. Why would you say that?” I whisper, clenching my eyes tight as the lie forms and leaves my mouth.
“Because you seem different, and you’ve mentioned wanting out of modelling before. Callan knows people,” he answers honestly. We sit back, and Oscar stares at me, really stares at me.
“I don't trust him with that,” I lie. I never expected my friend to be this insecure. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say. Not yet, anyway. “Please don't be angry with me. I didn't realise how much I needed this break until I had it.”
He nods and sits back.
“Let’s go find you some new underwear.” He winks, and I grin. We leave cash on the table, and Oscar links arms with me. “I just have one question,” he says sheepishly.
“Sure.” I smile at him, happier now that he seems less disgruntled.
“How did you make him break his rule?” Oscar whispers. It’s unlikely Callanor anyone else is going to turn up and overhear our conversation, but I check over my shoulder anyway.
“You know about his rule?” I frown, keeping my head down to try to hide from any possible cameras stalking us.
“Well, he is so strict with the girls, and I heard one of them telling the other girls they had seen him out once and overhead him giving a woman his rules before he took her out of the bar.” I nod. I wonder if he knows about the no kissing, too.
I shrug.
“He followed me to Greece,” I tell him. This shocks my friend, and he begins firing questions at me left, right, and centre.
“So what happened?” Oscar is eyeing me with excitement and apprehension.
“He asked for one night. I have nothing to lose, so I figured why not,” I explain. “I left and got on the plane the next morning and thought nothing of it. It's what we agreed, but he turned up at my casting, and we’ve been grabbing what time we can ever since.”
“And kissing?” he asks gently. My cheeks heat and I shake my head. I don’t know why, but admitting that to Oscar makes me feel dirty about this situation like I’m nothing more than sex for Callan.
“So the sex is mega?” His eyes are wide with excitement.
“Oscar!” I moan with embarrassment. I feel odd having this conversation with him. He is forever detailing his conquests, but I’ve never had to do that, and it feels weird to start now.
“Oh, Zara, come on! I always share with you?” he pleads.
“Overshare more like,” I laugh, nudging his shoulder. He pouts at me with puppy dog eyes. “Yes, the sex is incredible.” I smirk.
“Glad you think so.” Callan’s deep voice makes us jump apart as his car comes to a stop beside us. I swing a look around, looking for any paps, but we’re safe. “I have a few spare hours. Get in.”
“I’m spending the afternoon with Oscar,” I say when I feel my friend stiffen at my side. “I’ll see you later,” I suggest. Callan’s jaw clenches, and he eyes Oscar with enough anger to fire a bullet. Disdain drips from the car, and I shiver.
“It’s fine, Z.” Oscar puts distance between us, and I look between my friend and the devil I made a deal with. “I’ll see you Friday night. I’ll make us dinner?” he says. “We can discuss your fragrance and filming,” he says hopefully. I give him a soft smile and nod.
“She’s busy Friday,” Callan interjects. I open my mouth to object, but Callan raises his brow. “She’s busy for a month,” he tells my friend. “Isn’t that so, Zara?” When I look atOscar, realisation dawns. He knows this is being controlled by Callan, and given the man’s reputation, I hope he thinks this is some selfish demand I’ve been threatened into. I don't want him knowing the whys and whats of the situation. I peck his cheek.
“Love you,” I say and meet his eyes, silently telling him it’s okay. He nods and gives me a quick hug. Selfishly, I would rather Oscar believe worse of Callan than know the truth about me. I watch him walk away before the door clicks open, and I’m climbing in, then we are rumbling up the road.
“That was rude.” I turn to Callan, removing my hat, and laying it on the dashboard.
