Page 12 of Midnight Sun
Jamie lies curled on his side for long minutes afterwards, coming down from the high and still allowing Finn's soothing voice to wash over him. He sounds incredibly sexy talking in his mother tongue.
Jamie lets Finn’s babbling lull him to sleep. Nobody has to know about this, he tells himself as he imagines Finn’s strong body behind him, curling around him, watching over him while he sleeps.
He meets Hrafna for coffee in one of the cozy yet stylish cafés in Reykjavík’s historical center. The place is populated by locals, tourists and digital nomads, who set up their laptops in the light-flooded spaces.
Hrafna is almost as tall as Jamie, her hair dyed a very light ash-blonde and her muscular arms covered in colorful tattoos. Jamie can see why some colleagues feel intimidated by her.
“It looks my PA messed up my schedule,” Jamie says nonchalantly, although he’s pretty sure the mistake isn’t Peter's fault. “But I guess it doesn’t hurt starting the preparations early.”
Hrafna’s eyes light up.
“That’s a great opportunity! There are some things I want you to try that I thought we wouldn’t be able to do. But now we have plenty of time and we’re lucky Finn’s available.”
Jamie’s smile turns strained. “About Finn: I don’t think we work very well together. I want someone else for training.”
“No,” Hrafna says simply. “He’s the best for the job and I want you to get along.”
What’s wrong with these Icelanders? Jamie hasn’t been treated like this for years. As the main star of his movies, he’s normally approached with utmost respect and his demands are always met.
“Excuse me?” He isn’t able to keep the incredulity out of his voice completely.
“James, I work with my crew for a reason. Do you want to be in an action movie that isn’t shitty? Well, mine aren’t shitty because my crew is the best. I don’t hire amateurs or blowhards. We can achieve something great here, but I don’t need any airs and graces. I want you to be professional about this, and I want you to trust me. Can you do that?”
“Of course. I’m not questioning your crew. It’s just–our chemistry isn’t right.”
Jamie hasn’t been chastised by a director since drama school. He’s equal parts angry at Hrafna’s demeanor and grudgingly impressed by her loyalty towards her crew. Jamie doesn’t know any other director who would deny him switching his stage fighting trainer.
Hrafna just grins at him. “I’m sure you’ll get along, eventually.”
Jamie is seething with barely contained rage as he stomps back to his hotel, and he might’ve unnecessarily snapped at the girl at the reception. Hrafna’s ideas are just ridiculous! How can she insist that Jamie visit several filming locations with Finn to go through his fighting drills and training routines on location? She says it will help him get into the right mindset for filming later. What nonsense!
Jamie closes the door of his suite with more force than necessary. He had been looking forward to spending at least a few days in Reykjavík and exploring the city. But now he’ll have to leave with Finn after lunch to drive off to God knows where. He has really started to hate the fucking guy with his too-bright eyes and ugly broken nose.
Jamie starts to throw the few items he had time to unpack back into his open suitcase. He won’t even have time for a detour to the Blue Lagoon to relax a bit and shoot some nice pictures for social media. But without Audrey, who usually takes his pictures and manages his wardrobe, or even Peter, who steps in for her on occasion, he would have to work with a local photographer and there's certainly no time to arrange that.
This whole situation is unacceptable. Jamie pulls out his cell phone to call his management. He just wants to yell at someone. How can they leave him hanging like that? What does he pay them for if he has to organize everything himself?
“BAA, this is Betty speaking. What can I do for you today, Mister Arden?”
“Put me through to Charlotte, I–” Jamie trails off. His gaze is fixed on his suitcase, a strange feeling of dizziness spreading through his gut. “Wait a minute.”
“Of course.” Betty starts to babble something, but Jamie tunes her out. The items in his suitcase are meticulously packed as they should be–Peter arranged them after all–but Jamieknowsthat he didn’t have time to unpack. Yet his suitcase appears to be emptier than this morning when he snatched out his clothes to wear.
The wardrobe’s empty except for Jamie’s coat, and there’s a dresser in the bedroom whose top drawer is open a crack. Jamie didn’t touch it, and by the state of his unmade bed, the maid hasn’t cleaned the room yet. And Peter won’t arrive for a few hours.
Jamie opens the drawer carefully. He looks down at his underwear neatly arranged and folded.
“I’ll call you back,” Jamie says in a strangled voice and ends the call without waiting for Betty’s reply. He feels like his legs might give out under him. Someone has been inside his room, going through his things. Someone who had their hands all over his underwear.
Jamie picks up a blood-red rose petal strewn over his panties. He stumbles away from the dresser as if it burned him and sits down heavily on his bed. There have been misplaced and outright missing items in his household for months. He blamed the staff or thought he was just being inattentive due to his stressful job. But what if the person who came into his hotel room had been invading his private space for much longer? Have they been in his apartment in London? In his villa in Beverly Hills? Jamie is shaking all over. The prospect of getting away with Finn for the next few days suddenly feels more appealing and more oppressive at once. The person responsible for this wouldn't follow him into the Icelandic wilderness, would they?
Chapter 4
Thorfinn
HistrustyoldSUVstands out like an intruder among the shiny new luxury cars that populate the hotel parking lot. Finn glances at his watch again. It’s already fifteen minutes past the appointed time, but James hasn’t shown up yet.
Snjór whines in his little kennel in the trunk, his tail thumping against the floor.