CHAPTER SEVEN - SIENNA

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By the time Friday rolls around, I'm fighting a terribly black mood

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By the time Friday rolls around, I'm fighting a terribly black mood. Nothing is being done with my assault case as the CCTV isn't clear enough where they attacked me, and there aren't enough eyewitnesses, even though everyone working that night has given a statement.

What is the point if there are no repercussions for things?

I step through the door to the scent of cooking, toeing off my flats and discarding my coat before spotting two empty wine glasses on the coffee table in the sitting room. Low murmurings of voices coming from there.

Beau faces me when I step into the room, arm resting gently on the back of the couch, listening to Carly, who's sitting close to him.

My weight on the floorboards grabs their attention, and it's awkward for a few reasons. I haven't spoken to Beau since he stormed out of here. And Carly and I didn't get off to the best start.

My smile is tired, but seeing him back home makes everything better. "Welcome back. Everything go well?"

He nods with a distant expression. "Yeah, the clients were happy with the final result."

"Who were you shooting for?" I ask, feeling the soles of my feet burning from the long day.

Clearing his throat, he moves around to find a more comfortable spot. "A new toothpaste company. I have loads of tubes in my bag if you want any?"

My laugh is soft, but how he looks away from me turns my stomach. "Thank you. Erm, hey, Carly."

Carly pushes her hair back, throwing me a small smile. "Hey." Letting her eyes fall back on Beau, she returns to their conversation. Dismissing me. "My agent wants to do a whole new lookbook, so she's booking me in for a shoot with Tom Bailey. The guy who recently photographed that famous model's daughter... oh, what's her name... she married a Danish prince."

When Beau answers her, she becomes even more animated, leaping at him to grab his hands. My gaze fixes there, watching his fingers flex in hers. Knowing when I'm not wanted, I slip out and approach the kitchen.

"There's leftovers in the fridge for you. I cooked too much," Beau shouts through here.

After only having a bowl of porridge before my shift started, I am pretty hungry, but the light patter of Carly's feet when she strolls in here suddenly swallows my appetite.

"Beau said he would save me some to take to set tomorrow, so don't eat it all," she says, emphasising how she says 'all'—eying my body pretty disgustingly.

It puts me on edge, which I'm positive is her intention, forcing me to grab a bottle of water instead of the food to take upstairs.

"Goodnight," I murmur, having trouble moving past her when she stands near the fridge. She truly is very pretty. It's slightly annoying. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

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