Page 23 of From LA to London, With Love

Mitch’s face twitched. He was clearly trying to hold back laughter.

“Oh no, I’m sorry. That is bad luck.”

“To be honest, it’s driving me crazy. I really enjoy spending time with Sophie, so I don’t want to stop seeing her, but the more time I spend with her, the more I’m attracted to her. I’ve even resorted to Googling ‘How to stop being attracted to someone.’”

It had been particularly bad tonight. When I’d walked in, she had been singing “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” with such passion, my heart skipped a beat. When she saw me and we locked eyes, I could have sworn it stopped beating completely for a few seconds. My reaction was so intense, it seemed impossible that everyone in the room, including Sophie, hadn’t noticed it.

“That sucks. What did Google recommend?” I couldn’t hear suppressed laughter in Mitch’s voice anymore, just sympathy.

“Nothing I actually wanted to do. I don’t want to cut off all contact with her. She’s my only friend here, and I’m enjoying her company too much. It also suggested focusing on her negative qualities, but I haven’t noticed any. Dating other people—I’m not interested in anyone else. Or telling her how I feel, which would almost certainly make things really awkward and likely screw up our friendship. So, I’m just trying to ignore my feelings and focus on enjoying her company as a friend, but it’s not working too well.”

“Maybe it will get easier with time. I’m glad to hear you’ve been getting out at least. How are you feeling about everything else?”

Even though Mitch didn't have any answers, it was still good to talk to someone about my feelings.

“Definitely better than I have been. I’ve been keeping busy with working out, the dialect coaching, and spending time with Sophie.” I’d come a long way from lying on a white couch in a white room, surrounded by dog pee and obsessing about my public humiliation. It wasn’t like I’d completely forgotten about the photos—I still had moments when I was overwhelmed with shame—but at least they weren’t constantly at the forefront of my mind. “I’d been nervous about going out tonight, but it was totally fine. Even though I’m sure some of Sophie’s friends would have seen the photos, no one said anything to me about them, or stared at my groin with a weird look on their face. It certainly made me feel less worried about starting filming.”

“Well, that’s great progress! I’m proud of you. And how’s the accent?”

I cleared my throat and put on my accent. “The accent, kind sir, is extremely questionable, but my dialect coach has faith that I’ll get there by the time filming starts.”

Mitch laughed. I changed back to my normal voice.

“But enough about me. How are things going with you?”

“So, that’s actually one of the reasons I called you last week…We have some exciting news. We’re having a baby! He’s due in February.”

Warmth filled my chest at Mitch’s news. “That’s awesome! I’m so happy for you guys. How’s Liz feeling?”

“Good now. She was pretty sick for the first ten weeks, but that’s gone away thank goodness.”

A twinge of envy muddied my excitement for Mitch and Liz. They had a great relationship. Not only were they best friends, but they still couldn’t keep their hands off each other, even nine years after first meeting at law school. They’d got married last year and bought a house not far from my childhood home.

When I’d chosen this career, I hadn’t thought about how it would affect my chances of meeting someone and having a family. I found it almost impossible to meet people who weren’t famous. If I went to a bar, I’d be swarmed by fans wanting selfies. If I tried online dating, I’d be met with the online equivalent—or kicked off the app for “impersonating” Chris Trent, which had happened to me twice. Meeting Sophie in the street had been a complete anomaly.

That left me with dating people I met on set or at Hollywood parties, who, if they weren’t celebrities, were at least celebrity-adjacent. As my relationship with Vanessa had demonstrated, dating another celebrity was fraught with difficulties. It amplified the media attention at least twofold. The constant media speculation about our relationship had put enormous pressure on us. If we so much as looked at each other in public without a loving smile plastered on our faces, the internet would be flooded with articles that “Chranessa”, as they called us, was on the rocks. Those articles would trigger niggling doubts in the back of my mind. Were we on the rocks? Was Vanessa looking at me with disgust?

It wasn’t just the media coverage. Schedules as hectic as ours would have tested even the strongest relationship. In the last year, Vanessa had been on tour the entire time, and I’d been busy filming. As a result, we’d only spent a few months physically together. I’d felt us growing apart but didn’t know how to fix it. Perhaps Vanessa had felt the same—Alfie had been a present to keep me company in her absence.

And then she’d cheated on me and shared those photos with the world.

I started to spiral again thinking about it, nausea flooding over me.

Get a grip, Chris. Mitch just shared huge news with you, you should be focused on celebrating with him. Stop being so fucking self-absorbed.

I focused my attention back on our conversation. “That’s such good news, I can’t wait to see you guys when I come home for Thanksgiving and celebrate in person! I also have some tips about changing diapers and baby proofing, which I’ll need to share. Now, do you have any names picked out yet?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SOPHIE

CHRIS and I were cooking in his kitchen. He came up behind me, put his arms around my waist, and kissed my neck, sending shivers down my spine. He’d just turned me around to kiss my lips when Elliot’s cries woke me from my dream.

God damn it. I wasn’t sure if I was more disappointed about missing out on my dream kiss with Chris, or about the fact I was dreaming about him in the first place. Crap. Those feelings were still there. And they were decidedly not platonic.

Bleary-eyed and groggy, I pulled myself out of bed and opened the curtains, letting the morning sun stream into my room. I was back in my childhood bedroom, but the posters of Buffy and school art projects were long gone. Mum had been using it as a study before I moved back in, and now the walls were bare and white. I wasn’t planning to stay long enough to bother redecorating. Once I went back to work, I’d look for an apartment nearby. I loved my parents, and they’d been a huge help with Elliot, but I missed having my own space, and I suspected they missed their studies.

I’d forgotten what it was like to wake up after drinking too much and staying up too late. Unfortunately, the days of being able to sleep in after a big night were over. Elliot woke like clockwork at seven every morning.