So I Married A Rockstar - Season 2

Ch. 4: Nothing But a Towel

When I got bored of sitting by the hot tub, I dried my feet on the fluffy towels that were stacked in a corner, and then went back to the cinema room. The walls here were a dark blue, and there were no windows; the only light came from recessed spotlights overhead. Unlike the rest of the house I'd seen so far – bar the pool – the floor in here was carpeted, and I wiggled my toes in the plushness.

A huge screen covered the furthest wall, while the rest of the space was occupied by a thickly padded sofa. A metal coffee table similar to the bedside table in my room sat in front of the sofa, with a matte black minifridge in the corner, to the left of the screen. Three black remotes were lined up on the coffee-table.

"Oh, this looks like fun," I muttered.

I'd tackle the TV in a minute – first, I wanted to nose around the fridge.

Inside, I found a couple of racks of beer bottles, and three shelves of snacks – nuts and popcorn and bags of chocolate treats. At the very bottom was a drawer filled with little tubs of ice cream.

Beer wasn't my favourite thing to drink, but since there was nothing else, I grabbed a bottle, and two bags of M&Ms and went back to the sofa to tackle the remotes. After several attempts I managed to find a film menu. There were thousands to choose from, but I needed something comforting and familiar, something to ground me in the bizarre turn of events that had unfolded.

A Jurassic Park marathon, then.

As the first film came on, the spotlights overhead automatically dimmed, and I tucked my feet underneath me as I prepared to get lost in dinosaur-y madness and Jeff Goldblum's heaving chest. He was definitely the rockstar of these films.

At home, I could happily veg out in front of the TV all day, especially when it came to my favourite films, but today I found it harder to concentrate. I was acutely aware that this wasn't my threadbare sofa in my tiny living room; I felt on edge and out of place, and I couldn't stop wondering what Finn was doing. I also couldn't help the occasional pang of guilt that my presence here might be interrupting him from getting on with something he needed or wanted to do, even though it wasn't my fault.

By the time the credits rolled on the second film, I noticed that it had gone midday. I debated rustling up some lunch, but by now I'd demolished both bags of M&Ms, some salted cashews, and a bag of caramel popcorn, and I really didn't have room for anything else.

It was probably for the best anyway. The less time Finn and I spent around each other, the less we could rile each other up.

Although I couldn't hide in here the whole time, could I?

My phone rang and I idly answered it without looking at the screen. "Hello?"

"Is this Amy Smith?" The female voice on the other end sounded vaguely familiar.

"Yeah," I said.

Camden thought it was weird that I'd applied for the internship under a fake name, and maybe it was, but I really hated the thought that I'd only make something of myself by skating by on the name of the man my big sister had married. I had to forge my own path, and if that meant hiding my connection to Jude Scott, so be it.

"You sure about that?" the voice said. "You sound like Tasha Harris to me."

I froze.

"And this is Tasha's phone number," the voice went on.

"Who is this?"

The other woman huffed down the phone. "Forgotten me already?"

Something clicked in my brain and I closed my eyes. "Izzy Rollins," I said.