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“Yes.Hedid.”
I blushed like a child, but I’d been thinking about what Matt had said. Lying destroyed your soul, so I wasn’t going to lie. About anything.
“Oooh!” Aisha teased.
“Did I hear that right?” Peter asked. He was the master of my hair, and there was no way for me to escape.
“I like him, OK? But it’s not going anywhere. He’s a friend. A good friend.”
“The best kind of friendships…” Aisha singsonged. She needed to leave.
“I agree,” Peter said.Shut up!
“Aisha, can you do me another favour?”
“I told you. If you want drugs, you need to speak to someone else. This girl doesnotprovide anything like that.” She smirked. I smirked back.
“It’s nothing illegal, although the smoothies you bought yesterday should be. What were they again? Beetroot and mushroom? Totally rank whatever they were.”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere, Con. It’s not like we have a handy Tesco in the next field. Hashim was very kind, going out of his way to find you a local organic farm shop. I’m not sure I can bribe one of today’s drivers to go shopping for you, though. They’re all a bunch of tossers. Even that Dave who drives you. He asked me to bring him coffee and then left it on the verge and drove off. He can get his own bloody coffee from now on.”
“Sorry about that.” I didn’t know what was wrong with me today, apologising for shit I had nothing to do with. I could do with another coffee, but I didn’t dare to ask.
“Whaddya need? Another silly gift for this man of yours?”
“What man’s this?”
Fuck. Now Zara, my make-up artist, was here too, trying to get the low-down on the conversation and shoving her brush in my face. I swatted her away like the dick I was.
“Are we trying to impress him or just show friendship?” Peter was the king of the gay lifestyle and would usually have been telling me one of his longwinded stories about his latest squeeze, some insane nightclub he’d attended or a party full of sexy men dancing naked on the tables.
“You never talk about anyone. Who is this guy?” Zara demanded.
Shut up! Please!
“I thought you were shagging that Tara Marie.” Aisha was never subtle, and it was a trait I admired, but right now, I wanted to go back to my trailer and silently die.
“He’s just a friend!” I snapped. “A good friend and has been helping me out.”
“I’m sure he has,” Peter murmured.
“Ohh!” Zara nodded knowingly. “Thatkind of friend then. The helpful kind.”
Cue laughter. I was tempted to look around for a hidden camera.
“So, you want to impress a gay guy?” Peter asked. “We’ll need more information if we are to advise you properly.”
“Who said he was gay?” I shrieked. “All I want is a damn coffee!” Not that anyone was listening.
“If he’s someone you’re buying gifts for, then it’s kind of obvious that the guy is gay or bi. Or pan maybe,” Zara said. Ugh.
“Or demisexual? Months of slow pining before finally taking your beautiful friendship to a higher level.” Peter was obviously a failed scriptwriter with a vivid imagination, who’d found his passion in the art of make-up.
“Champagne issolast year,” Aisha chimed in. “If I were you, I’d buy him a bottle of bespoke, handcrafted gin, some posh tonic, fresh organic lemons and a sprig of mint.”
My jaw hung slack. They were literally planning my life.
Aisha shrugged. “What? I spent eight months running around after that Zach Kwan on my last set. He had some expensive ways of getting into people’s beds. Always said he was buying gifts for his mum, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”
