Page 59 of Under Your Spell
‘Philistine.’ I shake my head.
We’re interrupted by Theo’s phone ringing and when he pulls it out of his pocket I see the name of the caller flash up on the screen: Cynthie.
‘Sorry,’ Theo says. ‘I need to take this.’
I try not to react as Theo picks up the call but makes no move to leave the room. Cynthie. My casual internet search of Theo had been more than enough to fill me in on his on-again-off-again relationship with Oscar nominee Cynthie Taylor, an actress with the delicate features, luminous porcelain skin and waif-like figure of an elf-princess (in fact, she’s played two). I know Theo and Cynthie were together for years – and there are plenty of fans who still love the idea of them as a couple.
‘All right, trouble?’ Theo smiles as he speaks into the phone. ‘I thought you were living it up in the South of France.’
Whatever Cynthie says has him guffawing. ‘Sure, I believe you.’ His eyes flicker over to me and I busy myself with measuring out the flour for the bechamel. It’s none of my business. None. Of. My. Business.
Should I leave the room? But I’m the one cooking. Why doesn’t he leave the room? Why am I listening to him having a conversation with his ex-girlfriend? Not that he can’t have a conversation with her, or whoever he likes. God, why am I spiralling about this?
‘Not much, just reading Chaucer while a beautiful woman cooks me some carbohydrates. Living the dream,’ Theo says, pinching some more cheese. He pauses as she says something. ‘Yeah, of course Clemmie. She’s right here.’
My hand freezes. Did it just sound like Theo had told Cynthie Taylor about me, like she asked about me by name? That’s when it hits me that she was the one he’d been complaining to on that phone call weeks ago – I knew I recognized that voice.
Theo pulls the phone away from his ear. ‘My friend, Cyn, says hi.’
‘Say hi back,’ I reply mechanically.
He does and I seem to be the only one finding this whole thing surreal. ‘Anyway, how’s filming going?’ Theo asks.
The two of them chat for a bit and I manage to largely tune out, focussing very hard on putting the lasagne together.
‘Wait, what do you mean they called you?’ The hardness in Theo’s tone has me looking up. His gaze meets mine, and I see annoyance flicker in his eyes as he listens to what Cyn is telling him.
He huffs out a long breath. ‘What a load of bullshit. They must be desperate. Well, thanks for the heads up. I guess David will pass it on to the label and they can handle it from there.’
I stir the sauce.
‘No, we don’t need security, Cyn. No one knows where I am. It’s quiet here. No one recognizes me. I like it.’
My heart squeezes at the way he says the words. A minute later he puts the phone down. I stay where I am at the hob and the silence stretches between us.
I feel him come and stand behind me. After a moment, he puts his hands on my shoulders. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me what that was about?’
‘I don’t want you to think I was listening in on your phone call,’ I say primly.
He laughs. ‘If I was worried about that I wouldn’t have had the conversation in the room with you, would I?’
He tugs gently at my shoulders, pulling me around to face him.
‘Okay,’ I roll my eyes. ‘What were you and two-time Golden-Globe-winner Cynthie Taylor talking about, Theo?’
‘Put that together, did you, Poirot?’ Theo cocks an eyebrow.
‘Let’s just say it wasn’t one of the world’s great mysteries. And I prefer Miss Marple.’
‘So you maybe know that Cyn and I were a couple once upon a time?’
‘That’s none of my business.’
‘God, you’re stubborn.’ Theo’s hand runs down my arm from my shoulder. He closes his fingers around mine and takes the spoon from my hand, gently bumping me aside so that he can stir the sauce himself. ‘How about we just say that friends know things about each other? And we’re friends, aren’t we?’
I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now. ‘Of course we’re friends.’
‘Right,’ Theo nods. ‘So Cyn and I, we dated for about five years. It was a long time ago now. We’re still good friends. Just friends. I think the two of you would get on really well.’
