“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a familiar voice demanded.
Damn, caught in the act.
I plastered on a carefree expression and turned to face Neil. “I’m hungry. Are you a slave driver as well as a snoot? Do you expect me to work my fingers to the bone without a single crumb of sustenance?”
“You haven’t come close to working your fingers to the bone,” Neil replied derisively as he re-covered the plate. He was standing close, and I caught a faint whiff of soap. “What is it you do for work anyway?”
“I’m a gamer,” I answered proudly, and Neil looked at me like I was talking a foreign language. “You know, like computer games? I do live streaming, mostly, but I also take part in tournaments sometimes.”
“Ah, well, that explains a lot,” Neil said, and I raised an eyebrow.
“What explains a lot?”
“Gaming isn’t exactly a real job now, is it? You sit around playing computer games and get paid for it. Sounds like a holiday to me.”
“It’s not as easy as it sounds, especially to be as good as I am. And you can quit giving me that look, Sir Snootsalot. I’ve worked plenty of ‘real’ jobs in my time, too.”
Neil scoffed. “Sure, you have.”
Something about his tone got my back up. Yes, I enjoyed arguing with him, and I could take a slagging as well as the next person, but this was different. He’d made it a little too personal. People thinking I had an easy life because of my job really bothered me, especially since it had been far from easy to get where I was.
“Yes, actually, I have. I’ve worked some of the toughest minimum wage jobs out there, from fast-food kitchens to cleaning toilets, so I know all about hard graft. A lot more than some pampered celebrity’s assistant, that’s for sure.” I reached out and grabbed both his hands, turning them palm up.
“What are you doing?” Neil questioned, bristling at my touch.
“Just as I expected. Soft as a baby’s bottom,” I declared. “You haven’t done a day of manual labour in your life.”
Neil yanked his hands from my hold, something hardening behind his eyes. “Do you know what? I think I can handle things from here. You should go.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You offended me, and clearly, I just offended you, so now we’re even. How about a truce?”
I held out my hand, and his lips formed that straight line again. I was learning this meant he was aggravated. Then, after a few more seconds of consideration, something in his expression softened, and he emitted a heavy sigh.
“Fine. Let’s just stay out of each other’s way.” He shook my hand, and I was briefly aware of his warm palm on mine before he let go and started to lay out the food. I quietly helped. For the next two hours, we worked mostly in silence. He only talked to me when he needed to tell me what to do, and before long, the place was all set up for the event.
It was just an hour before guests would be arriving. I sat down in the middle of the empty theatre and took a selfie, posting it to my social media with the caption, Have the whole place to myself. Isn’t life grand!
I was just slotting my phone back into my pocket when Neil appeared. He carried two small paper plates on which he’d placed a selection of finger foods. He handed one plate to me and kept the other for himself. Was this his version of an olive branch?
“See? I’m not a total slave driver,” he said grudgingly, and I couldn’t help the way my lips twitched. I wanted to smile but held it back. He might be a bit too buttoned-up, but Neil was a decent sort. At the very least, he worked hard and took pride in his job. I’d observed that today, despite my comments about his soft hands.
He surprised me when he took the seat next to mine, and we ate in companionable silence. After a few minutes, his phone buzzed, and he put his plate down to pull it out.
Being the nosy person that I was, I read it over his shoulder. It was that Annabelle lady again. It looked like they were chatting through a messenger app.
Annabelle: I wish I could be at the screening tonight. I’d love to finally meet!
I pretended to focus on eating a small cracker with hummus while I watched Neil type a quick reply out the corner of my eye.
Callum: I wish you could be here, too. We’ll meet one day. I’m sure of it.
Wait a second … Callum?! What the hell? Callum Davidson was one of the stars of Running on Air. He was also Neil’s boss. Why was Neil messaging some girl and pretending to be him? I didn’t breathe a word, but when Neil went to put his phone back in his pocket and his eyes met mine, the colour drained from his face.