The Austen Playbook (London Celebrities #4)(89)
“My thoughts exactly.” Charlie’s response was emphatic. He waggled a finger between their foreheads. “We’re like one mind, you and me.” He coughed delicately. “I admit I applied a little more weight to your second excellent point.”
A small, slightly wet laugh bubbled from Freddy’s chest, and his smile turned affectionate. He studied her for a moment, and then unexpectedly, with no jokiness at all, he said, “Thanks, Freddy.”
“For putting my foot down about Griff being too uncharacteristically noble for his own good?”
“No.” Charlie put a hand behind her head and pressed a very fraternal kiss beneath the brim of her bonnet. “For giving me back my brother.” His smile turned crooked. “He’s actually seeing me again.”
Freddy stood looking after him as he strode down the hall, her shaking hands tucked under her arms.
“Two minutes, Freddy,” one of the stagehands called as she passed. The Henry was too old to have the electronic cue system that Freddy was used to in London, so it was down to old-fashioned dashing about and verbal warnings.
She moved her fists to her hips, grounding herself. Impulse and instinct demanded that she fly out into the rain and throw herself into Griff’s arms, but she took her job seriously, and always had.
And there was a lot riding on this performance.
With three different TV crews in the house, she expected the stands to be unadulterated chaos, but everything seemed to be clicking over like well-oiled cogs.
On the technical side, at least.
Sabrina was standing stiffly next to Nick Davenport, and judging by her sister’s body language, in about five minutes’ time his head was going to be outside in the rain, detached from his body and mounted on a spike.
A man she didn’t recognise paused by her side and nodded in the direction of the stand-off. “If the rumours of a merger are true, I don’t want to be in the building if those two end up competing for the same job.”
Freddy turned. “Are there rumours of a merger?”
“Oh, yeah. Buzzing’s getting louder.” The man grimaced. “Ever since that billionaire Lionel Grimes bought both networks, there’s been talk about the evening shows being streamlined. Which probably means that either this is a trial run to see how they do working together, or—” he lifted his brows significantly “—this is a direct comparison and somebody’s going to end up in the queue at the Jobcentre.”
“Well, shit.”
“Quite.” The man’s response was equally heartfelt. He nodded towards Sabrina, and Freddy’s stomach flipped with renewed nerves when she saw the assistant producer of Sabrina’s show beckoning. “I think that’s your summons. And don’t worry—if you get tongue-tied, we’re switching back to the studio after the interviews wrap up here, to finish with some human-interest fluff.” Her helpful confidante obviously worked for The Davenport Report. Nick’s show ran longer than Sunset Britain, so TDR would have an extra slot to fill once Nick finished the segment here with Sabrina. “Last I heard, the second story tonight is some dog that saved a kid from drowning. That’ll perk the public back up if this one’s a disaster,” he finished cheerfully and walked off.
After that encouragement, she felt even less confident about this, and her feet dragged as she walked over. Sadie and Maya were already standing with Sabrina, who had pointedly turned her back on Nick, with a toss of her red curls. He cast his eyes up towards the ceiling, every inch of his face lined with annoyance, and adjusted his crisp silk tie with a jerk.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” Sabrina was saying to Maya as Freddy approached. Her sister had a natural ease and charm with guests. Although Freddy got only an unreadable, narrowed glance. She had no idea what Sabs thought about the Henrietta situation, and her body language didn’t encourage a whispered query. The lingering words of their confrontation seemed to be spaced out between them like a physical barrier.
By a natural linking of thoughts, Freddy automatically scanned the room for Ferren. No sign. She hoped he was just lingering backstage until the last minute, waiting to make a staged entrance for maximum effect. And not passed out drunk in the green room.
He had precedent.
Dylan was reclining in a seat near the stage, one boot crossed over the other, waiting for his part of the pre-show hype. When he caught her eyes on him, he gave her a swift up-and-down, and winked.
“I’m not nervous,” Maya said, and immediately looked in danger of vomiting.
What the hell?
Yes, Maya struggled with shyness when she was out of character, and doing an interview as yourself was actually a very different ballgame from performing a live show, but—Seriously, if someone so much as sneezed unexpectedly right now, Elizabeth Bennet was going to do a very uncharacteristic swoon, and Sabrina and Nick would have to direct their questions around a body prone on the floor.
Freddy touched her arm. “Are you all right?” she asked in a low voice, and Maya shot her the oddest look.
It was a combination of shame, embarrassment, and apology.
“I’m really sorry,” she whispered. “I wish it had never happened.”
“You wish what had never happened?” Freddy was completely lost, but had to tear her attention back to the cameras when Sabrina and Nick finished their preparations and got into position.