Between Takes and Touches - Declan O'Hara

Prologue

*Notes: Hi! English is not my first language, so please be kind with any mistakes. This story follows the events of the first season and uses it as a starting point, since the second season hasn't been released yet.

I hope you enjoy the story!
Feedback is always welcome.*

Late afternoon in Ruthisere.

The front of the Municipal Gallery gleamed under the last golden rays of sunlight, gilding the glass doors and pale stone columns. The double doors opened to reveal Rupert Campbell-Black and Declan O'Hara, just stepping out of a friendly lunch.

A deep engine growl cut through their conversation. Both men turned — and spotted a black Cadillac Seville gliding down the cobbled street like a shark swimming through an aquarium full of golden fish. Rupert's laughter died before he could finish the joke he was telling Declan. A shiny black Cadillac was wildly out of place among the local Morris Minors and Austin Rovers, and Rupert had the uneasy feeling he'd seen that car before.

The vehicle came to a feline-precise stop. The driver's door opened.

Alexandra Thorne stepped out. Pale pink dress, nude heels, red hair pinned in a slightly messy French twist. Oversized sunglasses concealed much of her face, but the smile she offered Rupert was sharp as a fresh blade.

Rupert froze — literally. His shoulders tensed, and the color drained from his face. Declan watched him, intrigued. He had never seen Rupert turn pale at the sight of a woman. Then he looked back at the redhead. Pretty. Harmless, at first glance. Petite, even. Just another one of Rupert's conquests?

Alexandra walked toward Rupert with a calculated smile — the kind that usually came before an execution.

She removed her sunglasses and smiled with the sweetest, most poisonous edge in her voice.

"Rupert. I thought you only appeared under court summons."

Rupert returned the smile with dry irony.

"Alexandra. What a surprise... or is it an omen?"

Alexandra stepped closer — and deliberately stomped on his foot. Rupert let out a hiss of pain and took a step back, while she offered an innocent expression.

"Oh dear! I hope your little toe's okay. Sometimes heels can be treacherous... like certain men, right?"

Declan was still wondering if she was one of Rupert's past flings when the ex-athlete spoke again.

"You haven't changed." Rupert's tone was dry, almost bitter.

Alexandra's smile stayed frozen on her pink lips.

"And you still have slow reflexes. I had dinner with Helen last week. She looked radiant. Free. Light. Emotionally stable. Just lovely."

Helen. Declan raised an eyebrow. Yes, Helen Gordon — he knew she was Rupert's ex-wife. Which made the redhead in front of him even more interesting. So she was friends with Rupert's ex?

"Tell her the therapist you recommended worked wonders." Rupert's voice remained bitter, and Declan couldn't help but study him with curiosity. It was obvious that this woman unsettled Rupert deeply — something to do with their past.

For the first time that afternoon, Alexandra's brilliant green eyes turned to Declan — and he had to admit she was striking. If not for the stiff tone and the forced smile, he might have even said she looked angelic. Almost.

Rupert forced himself into formal mode.

"Declan, this is Alexandra Thorne. Publicist to a whole roster of washed-up stars we both know, strategist... and a personal apocalypse disguised as a woman."

Declan, startled by the introduction, extended a polite hand.

"A pleasure."

Alexandra offered a short smile and an indifferent look.

"Sure."

She didn't shake his hand. She merely looked him over the way one might acknowledge a waiter — not someone in the same profession.

"Alexandra, you probably recognize Declan from television. One of the thousands of loyal viewers he has."

"I'm a busy woman, Rupert. Sadly, I don't have time for entertainment. You know how packed my schedule is."

Her superior smirk made Declan want to growl. Entertainment? He was a serious journalist — one of the best in the country. How could she be so rude, so arrogant, and still smile like that?

Rupert would've laughed at the blow to Declan's ego, if he weren't genuinely uneasy about Alexandra's presence. He sighed, trying to reassert control, like someone trying to steer the conversation back onto his field.

"And to what do we owe the honor of your presence in this quaint little village, so unworthy of your magnificence?"

"Oh, Rupert, I'm very generous. I thought it unfair for this town to suffer only your corrupting presence. To balance the energies, I decided to show up."

Still smiling, she slipped her sunglasses back on with theatrical flair.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I ordered a cake from the bakery, and it should be ready by now. Excuse me, gentlemen."

She turned gracefully, as if gliding down an invisible red carpet, and made her way down the sidewalk toward the shop ahead.

Rupert, still pale, muttered:

"This is not good."

Declan frowned, eyes following the elegant silhouette.

"She just seems... arrogant and snobbish."

Rupert's reply was flat.

"Don't be fooled by the angel face. She's the devil. With a contact list, excellent taste, and a multi-front destruction strategy."

Declan stared at him. That made absolutely no sense. Rupert Campbell-Black seemed afraid of a woman half his size, in a pink dress, who didn't look a day over thirty-five.

"You're scared of her?"

Rupert glared at him.

"No. I have good sense."

Declan rolled his eyes, assuming Rupert was being dramatic.

He had no idea what was coming for him in the weeks ahead.

*Note: I know there are so many talented and amazing people around here, and I probably don't fit in, so I have to confess this is a bit impulsive.
I'm just completely obsessed with Declan O'Hara and needed to get this out of my system... especially while we're all still waiting for season two.
That's it!
See you in the next one... maybe?*