Page 37 of Total Creative Control

Abruptly, he abandoned the idea of updating Aaron. He was going back to his room for a fucking cold shower. He’d deal with Aaron once he’d calmed down.

Before he was even able to turn on his heel, though, Aaron’s door was thrusting open. And suddenly, there he was, all rumpled and wide-eyed and holding up his phone.

“Oh, thank God, it’s you!” he said. “I thought I heard someone out here—have youseenthis?” He pushed the phone at Lewis, and Lewis automatically stepped forward, squinting at the screen.

Did he need reading glasses now? What a mortifying thought.

“What is it?” he asked. Then a thought occurred to him. “Wait, is that from Paula? For the workshop tomorrow? Charlie said something about us all getting a pack and our own link to a—”

“Tailoredfuckingmeditation!” Aaron finished for him. “Which is bad enough, but are you aware that we’re not even gettingfedtonight? And then, tomorrow, you and I have to get inside a special white balloon—”

“Wait,what?Are we going zorbing or something?”

“Zorbing?” Aaron looked momentarily confused. “Oh, you mean those big plastic ball things you get inside and roll down hills in? No. This is an imaginary balloon.” He waved the phone again. “It’s all in here. We’ve got to get in an imaginary balloon and use the healing power of touch to connect with our inherent creativity.” His voice was rising hysterically. “I can’t do it, Lewis! I won’t!”

Lewis stared at him, astonished at the sight of his capable, unflappable assistant in such a state. And then—he really couldn’t help himself—he dissolved into laughter. Helpless, overwhelming laughter that bubbled up inside him like a champagne glass filled too quickly, spilling over extravagantly.

It was the look on Aaron’s face—so fucking horrified and desperate—and the ridiculousness of it all. And maybe too it was that twisting feeling in his gut that was part dread and part anticipation about what tomorrow would bring. The feeling that the workshop would be okay because Aaron would be there, coupled with the contradictory conviction that pairing up with Aaron for that workshop was a really terrible idea.

Somewhere along the line, Aaron started laughing too, and by the time Lewis had himself under control, they were both wiping their eyes and grinning at one another.

Aaron turned and ambled back into his room, beckoning Lewis after him. “Come in here—I’ve got a sort-of plan if you’re up for it.”

Lewis followed him inside, closing the door behind him and watching as Aaron flung himself onto the enormous, and already quite rumpled, bed, reaching for his open laptop.

“What sort of plan?”

Aaron looked up, his silvery eyes glinting with mischief. “A dinner plan. Do you like fish and chips?”

Lewis’s stomach grumbled. “Who doesn’t?”

“Swanage is about three miles from here. You get the best fish and chips there. I was just looking at Google maps, and we can walk it in less than an hour.”

“Oh my God,” Lewis said. He was salivating already. “You’re the best assistant in the universe.”

Aaron grinned. “I am,” he agreed. “Will we be able to break out of here easily enough?”

Lewis shrugged, unbothered at the prospect of being caught. “If we’re seen, we’ll say we’re going out to do some intentional movement in nature.”

Aaron’s grin widened. “I’d better take that line. You’re a terrible liar.”

Lewis smiled back. “It wouldn’t be a lie,” he said. “It’s just a fancy way of saying we’re going for a walk.”

“And what if we’re asked if we’re planning to eat anything?”

Lewis wrinkled his nose. “You can take that one,” he said. “I’m going to get changed before we go if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I want to take a shower anyway.” Aaron paused, then added, almost diffidently, “Should we ask Toni?”

Aaron didn’t want to, Lewis realised.

And neither did Lewis.

Fuck.

Lewis cleared his throat. “I’ll mention it to her,” he said gruffly. “She had plans for Netflix and Pot Noodles though, so I suspect she’ll leave us to it.”

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