Page 74 of Home Grown Talent

Naaz nodded, clearly relieved. “I know. I just thought Owen should see it.”

“Thanks, Naaz, I appreciate that.” He gave her a smile, although it felt strained. “Are you off home? Don’t miss your bus.”

She checked her phone and grimaced. “Yeah, I’d better run. See you tomorrow, boss!”

When she was gone, the door closing behind her with a clang, Owen let out a heavy sigh. “Bloody hell, Mac.”

She grimaced in sympathy. “On the plus side, it’s got to be good for business.”

“Has it?”

“All publicity is good publicity…?”

“So they say.” Owen rubbed a hand through his hair. “I hope I haven’t made a stupid mistake with this.”

Mac cocked an eyebrow. They’d been best friends since they were kids—other than Lewis, there was no one who knew Owen better.

“You’ve been whistling like a budgerigar these last few weeks,” she said. “And I don’t mean just like a bloke who’s getting some regular action for a change. I mean more like before things went south with you and Michelle.”

Owen ran a hand over his face. “Am I that bloody transparent?”

“Well… Yeah, you are.”

He laughed sourly. “Great.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Mac said, reaching for her lighter. “You’re an honest bloke, and people see that when they meet you. That’s why they trust you with their business.”

“Yeah.” Owen nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

“So you’re really into this Mason bloke, then?” She smiled, teasing but fond. “Get you, going out with a supermodel.”

“He’s not a supermodel,” Owen protested, although he was smiling too. “But, yeah, we’re…together. And it’s good. It’s really good. Mason’s great. I just wish I didn’t have to deal with all this internet crap.”

“What does Mason have to say about it?”

“About what?”

Mac eyed him. “The internet crap.”

Owen shrugged, because of course he hadn’t said anything about it to Mason. What would be the point? Owen had known all along that they’d be playing up their flirtation on social media. Misty had been clear about that from the start. So had Mason.

“Hmm,” Mac said, “let me guess—you haven’t talked to him about it. You’ve just done the Stoic Owen routine.”

“The what?”

“Oh, you know,” she said, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Shields up, head down, and bulldoze through anything you don’t like instead of actually communicating with people.”

Offended, he said, “I don’t do that.”

Mac didn’t argue, just gave him one of those long ‘you know I’m right’ looks and said, “Anyway, don’t brood over that crap Naaz showed you. Today's news is tomorrow’s chip paper, and all that.” She flicked her lighter on and off, clearly eager to light up. “Talking of which, I’m heading home via the chippy. You coming?”

Regretfully, Owen shook his head and nodded towards the office. “Need to catch up on some paperwork. I have to take another day out for filming next week.”

“All right, I’ll leave you to polish your Oscars then.” Mac grinned. “But don’t work too late. Early start tomorrow.”

At the moment, it was always an early start.

After making himself a coffee, and trying not to think about fish and chips, Owen dropped into the chair behind his desk and cranked up his ageing computer. There was a stack of invoices waiting to be sent out, but instead of opening Excel, he found himself opening his browser.