Chapter 27: Soph

That weekend, Gabby helped me move into Mac's place. She put on a breezy attitude as we unpacked boxes and hung clothes in the wardrobe, but it was so superficial that I seized the first moment of privacy to enlighten her.

"We're still together."

Her eyes widened. "Back together?"

"No. We never broke up. I couldn't deal with all the negativity about the relationship, so we staged a break-up to earn ourselves some privacy."

Gabby set a photo frame on my bedside table as she digested that. When she turned to face me again, her brows were knitted together.

"But... How can you get privacy? He's followed everywhere he goes. So are you. Isn't that why you're here?"

"Yeah." I sighed. "We'll have to spend time apart to let the dust settle. He's going to America soon, though, so we won't even be in the same country."

Nodding, Gabby glanced towards the bedroom door. "Does Mac know?"

"I haven't told him yet."

"Are you going to?"

"He's smart enough to put the pieces together himself. Ed and I agreed we wouldn't spread this around. Even Security don't know, although they'll easily work it out when we're both being driven to the same places. But I couldn't lie to you. I feel like I've already kept so much from you—it's not fair."

Rain pattered against the window, a gentle hum to accompany the tense conversation.

"If Mac asks me, I won't be able to lie." She wrung her tanned hands in front of her bright white t-shirt. "I mean, I'll try, but he'll see straight through me. I think it's the lawyer in him. He can—"

"Don't worry about Mac. He's got the balls to ask me himself rather than go through you."

Further down the corridor, a door opened and closed. Gabby's eyes darted to follow the noise before drifting back over to me.

"Are you happy, Soph? Like, really happy?"

I smiled. A genuine one. "Happier than I've ever been."

*

For the most part, I tried to avoid publicity over the next few days. I stayed away from social media, and Mark always ensured we weren't followed during our car journeys. Not that I left Mac's apartment much.

A week after our public split, I had an appointment with Becca to discuss my involvement in her centre. Given that we hadn't been on good terms for the best part of a year, I fully expected her to throw me to the curb, claiming she didn't need bad publicity attached to her charity work. But I had to try.

Journalists hovered around the entrance when I hopped out of the car. They shoved recorders in my face and battered me with a barrage of questions.

"How's life without Teddy, Soph? Are you coping?"

"Are you and Aaron together now?"

"I see you won custody of his bodyguard. Taken anything else of his?"

I ignored them. Ed hadn't succeeded in doing that last time he was here, and maybe they were hoping I'd crack just like him.

Ironic, though, firing intrusive questions at me when I was on my way to a mental health facility.

"You okay?" Mark asked once we were inside.

I jerked my head in a stiff nod. "Fine."

Credit where it's due, Becca had done a great job with the building. Last time I was here, it was pretty much just a shell. Now soothing tones of blue coated the walls, warm lighting filtered from the ceiling, and plush carpets lined the floor.

"Shit," I said under my breath. "Did Ed help with all of this?"

Mark snorted. "Hardly. Not sure that boy has ever touched a paintbrush in his life."

I smiled, although it fell from my lips almost instantly when Becca breezed through the far door. Red hair smoothed back into a high ponytail and wearing a tailored jumpsuit, she looked nearly unrecognisable. A businesswoman. Smart, mature, sophisticated. Despite our differences, my heart warmed at what she'd achieved here. Her longest dream, on the cusp of becoming a reality.

"I was just saying it's looking amazing, Becca."

I hoped starting off on a positive note would set the tone for the rest of the meeting. If she kicked me off, so be it. This was Ed's passion more than mine. But I still wanted to be involved.

"Yeah, it's coming together." Her eyes swept around the room before landing on me. "Can I get you both a drink?"

"No thanks," Mark said.

I withheld my eyeroll. "I'll take a tea, thanks."

She turned back to the door, then froze, her fingers still curled around the handle.

Glancing back at me over her shoulder, she asked, "Strong, no sugar?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Such a simple question shouldn't provoke such a strong emotional response. But once more, it was a reminder of how close we'd been. So close that she could still remember how I liked my tea, despite not making one for me in a year.

"All okay, Sophia?" Mark asked under his breath once we were alone.

"God," I murmured, "They should hire you here, what with your uncanny ability to sense people's emotional state."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I'm fine," I clipped out. "Just brings back memories. Reminds me how much everything has changed."

"It's bound to."

I wandered away from him to explore the room. As much as I appreciated his metaphorical shoulder, this conversation risked descending into a chat about my 'break-up', and I didn't want us back in a position where I'd have to lie again.

Several sheets of A4 paper covered a table at the far side of the room, quotes scrawled across them. I recognised Becca's cursive handwriting.

Grief doesn't disappear; we grow around it.

"Still working on that." Becca held out a steaming mug and nodded towards the sheets. "Can't decide if it's the vibe I want. I need to avoid anything too cringey."

"What, this quote?" I tapped the top sheet.

"That's not a quote as such. It's based on a theory that Tonkin developed, rather than a specific line they said."

I took the mug from her, terracotta-coloured tea brewed to perfection. Just the way I liked it. Maybe her attitude towards me had softened now she thought Ed and I were no longer together.

"I don't think it's cringey," I said. "If you want my opinion—"

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" She folded her arms.

Or maybe she hadn't softened.

"I think quotes can be cringey," I said. "But science isn't. If you display scientific facts, research, theories... That's more meaningful than a supposedly motivational quote that someone would get tattooed on their stomach in Magaluf."

Her eyes glinted. "Or on their ribcage?"

"Not the same. Mine was done in Ibiza."

Try as she did, she failed to hide her smile.

*

An hour later, Mark and I left the centre to an even bigger throng of journalists. After a relatively civil and productive meeting with Becca, I was in no mood for insensitive questions, so as soon as one of them shoved their phone in my face, I whirled around to face him.

"Sophia, keep walking." Mark's hand landed on my lower back, but I resisted his firm push.

"Are you feeling guilty for breaking his heart, Sophia?"

I gestured to the sign above the door. "Are you aware of the irony of behaving like this outside a mental health centre?"

"Just doing my job, love. All I want is a quote."

"A quote? Fine. How about... I had a panic attack outside a restaurant because I have a fear of crowds. I'm supporting this mental health charity here so that other people who also suffer have a safe place to go, to get help, without having their trauma picked apart by people on the internet who would rather spin a baseless story out of it than focus on the illness itself."

"Not baseless, though, is it? There's footage of you kissing Aaron Holland."

"Yeah, footage from last year when Teddy and I weren't even together. But I guess that doesn't fit your narrative or make a good story, does it?"

"Sophia." Mark's push was firmer this time, and I stumbled a couple of steps. "Let's go."

"You fucking his old bodyguard, too, Sophia?"

I looped my arm through Mark's and levelled the journalist with one final smirk. "I wish."

*

Half an hour later, I swiped my card against Mac's apartment door and barrelled my shoulder into the wood to push it open. I was ready to channel this pent-up energy into some passionate blog writing.

I wasn't ready to be greeted by a naked blonde, sitting on the kitchen worktop, whose long legs were wrapped around my flatmate's waist.

"...Oh, God... Oh, God... Yes... Fuck, I'm gonna come... I'm gonna come!"

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

I spun back towards the door and lunged to catch it before it shut. My fingers slipped past the handle, and it slammed into the door frame with a bang loud enough to silence the girl's screaming orgasm.

Her second shriek wasn't from pleasure.

"The fuck, Sophia?" Mac roared.

Shit.

"Oh, my God... Are you Sophia Palmer?"

I turned to face them both. Mac held a tea towel to his groin to protect his dignity, but the girl, who didn't seem at all shy nor bothered that I'd interrupted her orgasm, remained on the worktop, staring at me with excited eyes.

"Sorry," I said weakly. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

Mac scoffed and bent down to pick up his shirt. He tossed it at the girl. She caught it and slid to the floor. Seriously, Mac? Couldn't even make it to the bedroom? We chopped vegetables on that worktop.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Mac yanked his boxers up his thighs, eyes like thunder.

"Logan, don't be rude." The girl flicked his bare chest with the back of her hand.

"Don't be rude?" He threw a glare at her. "You've already come. I'll end up with blue balls."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll suck you off before we go back to the office. Chill the fuck out."

I tried to hold in my laugh, because this wasn't the time to be laughing when Mac was clearly embarrassed at me walking in on him. But also... It was kind of funny. And if he cared that much, he should have chosen to have sex in a more private place.

In hindsight, maybe it was a good thing they'd only made it as far as the kitchen. If she saw any of my stuff, she'd easily put two and two together and realise I lived here. As lovely as she seemed, I couldn't risk that coming out.

"Sorry," I said again. "I should have called. I've got a spare key and just came by to pick up a friend's birthday present. Didn't expect anyone to be in."

"It's totally cool." The girl waved her hand to dismiss my concern, and Mac's eyes bulged, because obviously it wasn't totally cool at all. "We were just about finished."

"Like fuck we were!"

"I'll come back later," I said.

"It's fine! You can stay." The girl's eyes lit up, but Mac's mouth dropped open.

"Kim, she is not staying. She can piss off and come back later." He raised an eyebrow at me and pointed towards the door.

Just to wind him up, I shrugged off my jacket with an angelic smile. The glare he fired back was nothing short of murderous.

"Relax, Logan..." Kim sauntered towards him, and then she sank to her knees.

Shit. Misread this one. Big time. Mac must have noticed the sudden panic on my face because his rage turned into smugness. With Kim on the floor, her back to me, Mac once more pointed to the door.

"Get out," he mouthed.

And he didn't need to ask a third time. 

***

Thank you for reading :) xx

***

We're back to Ed's POV in the next chapter, and he has his own encounter with Becca, which is less civil than Soph's! 

If you want to read ahead, this book is now complete on Ream, so you can binge the remaining 20+ chapters through any of my tiers. The cheapest is $5 a month and also gives you access to the full version of Office Affairs, which used to be in the Paid Stories program. Bodyguard is also complete on there, if you want to read Mark's steamy story 🔥