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Before Clemmie can say anything, one of her friends barrels into the kitchen. “He’s here,” she reports breathlessly. “And he broughther.”
“Hugo?” My heart leaps, but everyone in the room ignores me.
“I can’t believe his nerve!” Clemmie exclaims, her voice rising. “Is hetryingto make me jealous? Like I would be jealous of that skinny cow, anyway. She’s welcome to him!”
“You’re better off without him,” her friend nods.
“So much better,” the others pitch in.
Clemmie hustles to the kitchen window, and peers out. “He’s wearing the shirt I got him!” she gasps. “Wanker! Just look at him.” She points, so I look—and see a skinny dude in a fedora outside, with his arm slung around a petite brunette in baggy dad jeans and a tiny vest top.
“Actually, I’m more interested in finding that friend of mine?” I venture, trying to get back on track. “Tall British man, devastatingly handsome, world-famous actor?”
Clemmie looks shifty. “No idea what you’re talking about!” she declares, turning away and bustling with some wineglasses.
The girl is a terrible actress.
“Look, I know he was here, so please, just tell me where I can find him,” I snap, losing my patience. I’ve been trailing after Hugo all day now, missed dinner with the panic of it all, and now I’m tired, hungry, and cranky as hell. “This is serious business here, hundreds of people’s jobs depend on me getting to him, so cut the theatrics, and spill.Now.”
Clemmie bites her lip, and her resolve crumbles. “I’m sorry,” she cries, “I’d help you, I really would, but he swore me to secrecy. I’m not supposed to tell anyone about it.”
“So Hugo Chambers was here?” I demand.
She bobs a tiny nod. “But that’s all I can tell you,” she says virtuously. “Do what you want, torture me if you must, but he’s depending on me, and I won’t let him down. I’ve been the biggest fan for like, ever.”
Dammit!
I bite back a growl of frustration. Hugowashere, but I have no idea where he went next.
“Clem!” a voice calls into the kitchen. “Liam’s having a proper freakout. Ivy ran her mouth about something, and he’s just done three shots of vodka.”
“He’s done what?” Clemmie screeches. “He can’t handle vodka! He’ll wind up puking all over the carpets.”
She storms out, leaving me surrounded by empty pizza boxes and a half-empty bottle of Bacardi Breezer. I grab the bottle, and mope my way back outside, sinking down onto the steps and despairing into my sickly-sweet alco-pop.
What the hell do I do now?
Clemmie thinks it’s her sworn duty to protect Hugo’s location, but the clock is ticking! I promised Hazel and Reeve I’d deliver their Darcy back to them before anyone realizes my momentous fuckup, and that’s what I have to do.
What if I got some other famous person to sweet talk Clemmie into giving him up? I wonder, brainstorming madly. We can’t tell the rest of the cast, but if I FaceTime with Tessa in the States… And she gets her A-list hunk of a boyfriend on the line… And we throw in a partridge and a pear tree…
“They told me you were in trouble, but peach schnapps? Things must be bad.”
Someone is getting out of a cab, regarding me with a mix of smug superiority and amusement. The last person I want to witness my abject failure.
The only person it could be.
Fraser.
9
FRASER
“What areyoudoing here?”Jolene demands, scowling up at me. She’s still dressed in her ratty Spice Girls T-shirt and jeans from earlier today, clutching her phone in one hand, and the bottle of booze in the other. She looks pissed off, anxious, and utterly adorable.
“What do you think?” I counter calmly. “I’m here to clean up your mess.”
Panic flashes in her eyes.
