Chapter 19: Recognition
Successful musicians like Teddy Stone had enough money and fame to act as a constant reminder of their accomplishments. Yet someone, somewhere, had decided that the BRITs, the Grammy's, and the AMAs didn't offer enough recognition, and what the world needed was another awards show to stroke the egos of already-well-decorated singers. Perhaps I wouldn't have been so bitter if Ed's song about me hadn't been nominated for Song of the Year.
He'd won five nominations in total, and whatever game we were playing with pretending to hate each other had taken a backseat when my genuine happiness replaced any feelings of hostility. I'd sent him a congratulatory text, perfectly sincere, and he'd replied to thank me, equally sincere.
Then I'd looked at the nominations in more detail, and the discovery of that song had landed with a heavy thud in my stomach, dragging down my brief joy and burying it beneath anguish.
Luckily, Helen had provided me with an encyclopaedia's worth of notes on how to be a convincing girlfriend, and there was a whole section on disguising emotions. She'd also set up a meeting with a girl named Camille who'd made a career out of pretending to be in a relationship with someone. Although I recognised her fake boyfriend, I didn't recognise her face, and that ignited hope within me.
"So you've been with him for two years and you still manage to have a private life?" I asked.
Camille swept her long, blonde hair over one shoulder and cocked her head to the side as she smiled at me. The café heaved with lunchtime diners, yet nobody had approached her, so she clearly enjoyed some degree of privacy.
"Easily. I've got a very plain face, and I try to stay quiet whenever we're being interviewed together so the focus is on him rather than me. If I appear uninteresting, the media don't waste their time on me."
Was it really that easy? I studied her. Smokey make-up framed beautiful green eyes, and her sharp cheekbones gave me serious contour envy. With her cherry-red lipstick, my eyes were drawn to her mouth whenever she spoke, and her tight, low-cut t-shirt teased accented collarbones and the shadow of her cleavage. She was hot.
"You're not plain," I said.
Rather than take offense at a stranger disagreeing, her eyes glinted, and her lips pulled up into a smug smile.
"Good. I'm doing it right, then."
She swiped at her phone and then slid it across to me. The photo on her screen showed a couple stood together on a red carpet, their arms around each other. While I instantly recognised the guy, it was only because I knew he was her partner that I studied the woman more carefully.
"That's you?" I glanced up at her, trying to find similarities between the woman across the table from me and the woman by Jamie Spade's side.
Camille sat back in her chair and folded her arms. Her sassy attitude only added to her disguise. The glamorous siren opposite me barely resembled the reserved girl in the photograph. Minimal make-up with naked eyes. Hair scraped back into a tight bun. A loose but high-necked dress. It was almost like every part of Camille's appearance had been flipped to the complete reverse.
"So you manage to maintain a private life because you're literally unrecognisable," I said. "Good for you. Unfortunately, I don't think I'd get anywhere near either of these two extremes. I enjoy wearing make-up every day, and I'm not willing to forego it when appearing next to Teddy Stone."
"Okay." She dropped the smug smile. "You can lose the attitude with me. I'm not your enemy, Sophia. I'm here to help you."
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. Only realistic. If this is your tactic, then you can't help me."
Just the thought of standing next to Teddy Stone on a red carpet filled me with raging insecurity. Camille's strategy wouldn't work for me, and while that wasn't her fault, the lack of a solution added to my stress.
"You're right that I go extreme. But that doesn't mean you can't make some changes. Keep a consistent style when with him so people associate that with the public you, and then do it very differently when out in private. Small changes. I'm not saying it'll make you as unrecognisable as me, but it will stop making you as instantly recognisable."
I pondered her suggestion as I wrapped my hands around my lukewarm mug. Anything I could do to slow down the speed people recognised me would help. Pretending to be Ed's girlfriend would be tough enough, and I didn't want to burn bridges with a potential new ally when most of my frustrations were aimed at the situation—not her.
"Look," she said, her eyes softening. "I'm not saying you'll be able to live your life normally. What I'm saying is that you'll still be able to do some normal things. And busier places are actually better because you can blend into the crowd. I've gotten very cosy with guys in clubs, and nobody has ever realised it's me. Although I guess the darkness helps with that."
She flashed me a cheeky grin, but I just smiled politely in response.
"Yeah, I won't be testing that out for myself."
Camille's pointy eyebrows drew together. "Why not? You're not actually in a relationship so it doesn't count as cheating."
I shrugged. "No, but on the off-chance I was recognised... It wouldn't be fair to him. Either he looks like he's been cheated on or the fake relationship is exposed."
"Yeah... Fair point. Although, if I was cosying up to Teddy Stone all day, I'd be trying to get into his bed, not some rando's from a nightclub."
Been there, done that, got the toe-curling memories. I wasn't about to tell Camille that, though. I barely knew the girl, and even if Helen trusted her, I didn't. Not yet, anyway.
"It's not like that with you and Jamie, then?" I asked.
She chuckled. "Nah..."
With a furtive glance around the café—we were tucked away in a corner, and the room was too noisy for anyone to eavesdrop, but maybe I should have also been taking note of her prudence—she leaned over the table towards me and lowered her voice.
"He's in a real relationship and they want it to remain private. I accompany him to public events so his partner can stay under the radar."
Interesting... For a fleeting moment, I imagined doing that with Ed. No matter which side I was on, I wouldn't be able to cope with seeing another woman on his arm. He was well and truly under my skin, and that only strengthened my resolve to keep distance between us.
"Look, I've got to dash," Camille said, stealing a peek at her watch. "I'll be there on Saturday, though. Come find me if it all gets too intense and you want a dose of reality."
Up to that point, I'd had my doubts about her, but her comment about reality hit home for me. Maybe she shared my perspective. I wouldn't know for sure until I figured her out better, but it was a small spark of hope in an otherwise dark prospect.
*
Just when I thought my week couldn't get any worse, Gabby invited me over for dinner. Normally I jumped at the chance to see her, but if it was at her flat then that risked another problem.
Me: Sorry Gabs. Having a shit week and don't think I can deal with Becca on top of that. I don't have the energy to tread on eggshells. Can we go out instead?
Gabby replied instantly, and my mood picked up when I read her message.
Gabby: She's away for the weekend. Indian takeaway?
Earlier I'd enjoyed being out in public, conscious that these could be my last days walking through the city without being recognised. But as I battled my demons on the Tube journey to Gabby's, I realised this was at least one thing I wouldn't miss if I had to start taking cars everywhere. Maybe it wouldn't come to that. If Camille was as good as she claimed to be, I might even be able to carry on as normal.
Gabby's toasty flat welcomed me in from the cold October air. I shrugged off my coat and hooked it over a peg in the hallway.
"Sorry if I didn't seem keen earlier," I said, bending down to unzip my boots. "It's been an awful week, and I couldn't deal with any more drama. Honestly, work is just—"
"Hey, Palmer."
I jumped, craning my neck to see Mac standing at the end of the hallway, leaning against the living room doorframe, one hand holding a mug and the other slipped into his hoodie pocket. After I'd got over the coincidence of him happening to be here just I was starting to miss him, I realised I'd been set up.
"You've got some nerve, dickhead." I stood up and kicked my boots to the side. "Would it have killed you to reply to just one of my texts?"
"Can we talk?" He jerked his head towards the living room.
Part of me wanted to say no just out of spite, but rationality broke through the pettiness. I nodded, shooting Gabby a you-could-have-warned-me glare as I passed her.
"I know what you're going to say." I dropped down onto the sofa, sitting sideways to face him with my legs tucked beneath me.
Mac arched an eyebrow, lips twitching. For just a second, I saw the old Mac that I knew and cared for—not the cold lawyer who'd shunned me earlier this week.
"You're going to say you couldn't reply because we shouldn't be seen communicating," I said. "It would look suspicious."
Mac took a sip from his mug and cast his eyes across the room. Nailed it.
"Yes," he said. "Hence the clandestine meeting at Gabby's. But I wanted to apologise and explain, too. I know we're friends, Palmer, but my job is so important to me, just like I know yours is important to you. I can't do anything to jeopardise it. I'm hoping you understand that since neither of us are in situations that could be considered normal."
"I do understand it. It's just a shame that this is going to come in the way of a good friendship."
Mac pressed his lips together, and he didn't need to speak to express his thoughts. We had a good friendship, but it had only been rekindled a few months ago. His job, on the other hand, held far more weight in his life. No matter how much I cared for him as a friend, I couldn't blame him for putting his job first. Successful people had to do that, otherwise someone more ruthless would take their place.
"It's only temporary," Mac said. "Once this is all settled, we can hang out again. I'll even try my best not to judge you for your taste in men."
Although he delivered it as a joke to soften a bad situation, it left a sour tang in my mouth. I was already frustrated at losing him—albeit temporarily—during a time when I needed friends more than ever, so my sense of humour didn't quite align with his.
"Bear in mind that my taste in men includes yourself. And Teddy isn't the one trying to extort money out of someone for a consensual sex act."
Mac opened his mouth as if to debate that, but then his shoulders slumped. "No. This is why you and I shouldn't be discussing it. Let the legal teams battle it out, and then once it's all over we can move forwards."
Shaking my head, I drew my eyes away from him and focused on Gabby's rose gold lava lamp instead. Maybe if I didn't look at him, the anger would mellow. Once Ed and I came out in public together, no doubt Mac would have his suspicions about that, too. And Gabby. But I couldn't tell either of them the truth, and I didn't want to lie to their faces by giving them a heads up about my new relationship beforehand.
The secrecy pissed me off even more, and I tried my hardest not to project it onto Mac. He didn't deserve it. At the end of the day, he was just doing his job. I didn't have to like that, but I did have to accept it as a valid reason for how he'd behaved.
"I'm really sorry." His voice softened. "It's a shit situation. A horrible coincidence, yeah, but we both knew there was a risk our worlds could collide at some point, given the nature of our jobs."
We did, and it all came back to one of our very first conversations when we'd agreed not to discuss Ed's identity. It was impossible to say how differently things might have turned out if Mac had known about my involvement with Teddy Stone—maybe he'd have never got the case and lost out on one of the biggest wins of his career. He'd still lost out, but only because I'd happened to be in the room looking for Helen. I never should have been there—he could have carried on blissfully unaware.
"Although it is a horrible coincidence, I know you'll still resent me for it," I said to him, holding up my palm to silence him when he tried to dispute it, "and that's fine. You're allowed to blame me for my role in this mess, even if it wasn't intentional on my part. Just like I'm allowed to be hurt that I've lost a friend during a time when I need all the friends I can get."
His face fell, colour draining from it. "Sophia..."
"But I'd be a bad friend if I made you choose between me and a job that's so important to you," I said. "So, yeah, this is temporary, but I think the break will help us both get back on track so we can pick up where we left off once it's all over. A clean slate with no hard feelings between us."
He twirled one hoodie drawstring around a finger and cleared his throat. "Plus... There'll be no secrets this time round. And I swear I was joking when I said about your bad taste. I'm sure he's a great guy. I'd never judge you."
I plastered on a smile, even though smiling was the last thing I felt like doing. Five months ago, Mac and I had reconnected and revived a friendship that had been dormant for years. Hopefully, in not too long, we could do the same again.
***
Thank you for reading :) xx
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It's the awards show next chapter... How do you think Ed & Soph are going to cope with their first public appearance together?