Page 3 of Try Hard
Alistair snickered. “Dads hear a whole lot of things they shouldn’t when their kid is known online.”
I shot him an amused look. “And I’m guessing you’ve heard them too.”
“Ah, just a few. You know, hometown hero and all that. We’ve all been following your career.”
“That’s very sweet, Alistair.” I waved a hand around. “And I appreciate you letting me infiltrate the group this morning.”
“Oh, of course, of course. The more the merrier.” He glanced around. “And your timing couldn’t be better, actually.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, my daughter’s here too.”
My mind jumped back to his earlier comment. I’d been so distracted by learning that my dad was Big Jezzer that I hadn’t really registered his comment about bringing your kid to work.
Alistair held his arms out, creating something of a bridge between me and a woman who’d been standing with her back to us the whole time.
She was bundled inside her coat, hood up, and, for the life of me, I wouldn’t have been able to guess who it was.
But, he called out, “Fia,” and the woman slowly turned around.
Then, I was face-to-face with an awkward-looking Ophelia Pendrick.
My breath caught and I cleared my throat in an attempt to cover it.
If she hadn’t been so hidden in her clothing, I’d have guessed it was her. There was no mistaking that flame red hair. Still the same, beautiful colour it had been when we were kids. Gorgeous.
I’d never met anyone who so perfectly matched their name. And, fucking hell, was her name incredible. Ophelia Pendrick. Like something from a fantasy novel. The red hair on top of that? She’d always been like something from a dream, and she was no different plane spotting on a Saturday morning.
Why had I been late?
“Hi,” she said, worrying her lip.
“Ophelia,” I replied, grateful to hear my voice come out in its normal, cheerful tone. “I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been… ages.”
“I don’t usually come,” she said quickly, adjusting her position almost continuously. “I’m just… in town for a bit. Although, I live in London and this is a London airport, but I mean that I was in Eddlesworth and decided to come with my dad.”
The grin that spread across my face must surely have been enough to illuminate the runway any night of the week. She hadn’t changed at all.
Well, she had, and, despite her awkward energy, she seemed a lot more confident in herself as an adult, but she was still so… perfectly spoken and precise and… fascinating. She had always been so enchanting.
Plus, catching her off-guard and flustered was more than a little adorable. Ophelia was the kind of person who constantly had their shit together. Catching such people unaware was a gift.
“Oh, and she goes by Fia,” Alistair said, smiling widely as he placed a hand on his daughter’s back and pulled her in closer to the conversation.
I looked back at her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine.” She waved a hand and drew my attention to what she was holding in her gloved grip.
I laughed. “I see my dad’s been showing off again. Or, do you always carry pictures of my face around?”
She immediately turned beet red and yanked the magazine behind her back as if, when I couldn’t see it, I’d forget that she’d been holding it. “Oh. Uh…”
I smiled at her, my heart pounding more than a little bit. “You know, I can sign that for you, if you want?”
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t play into the celebrity thing, and I didn’t think I’d ever volunteered like that to sign something, but I couldn’t resist. It was worth it for the way she ducked her head, lost for words.
My dad, apparently not quite catching the mood, nudged me. “I had to give everyone a copy. Most people got them last week, but, you know, doesn’t hurt to be carrying extras.”
“Thanks, Dad. If we get an influx of orders from it, I’ll know we have you to thank.”
“Oh, it’s Home magazine. I don’t think the orders are going to be because of me. Home is a huge deal.”
Fia glanced back up at me, still red. “It really is. And the spread is excellent.”
Pride burned and tickled inside of me as I thanked her.
I knew the article was great. The team at Home had been wonderful, and Row and I had worked hard preparing for it, but it still felt special hearing it from Fia, hearing that she liked it.
From what I could remember, she’d never been overly syrupy with her praise, but, when she liked something, she meant it and she said it.
If nothing else, I knew how much her praise had meant to Sophie back then.
It had been praise that worked for Soph, focused on the things she wanted to do well.
Fia wasn’t the kind of peer mentor that only praised you for turning things around and going to class and getting good grades.
She got to know Soph, praised her art constantly.
I wondered if she knew the role she’d played in Soph’s entire future?
Probably not. She’d been gone for a long time now, and, as far as I’d heard, hadn’t really kept in touch with people from Eddlesworth.
Not that I could blame her. I’d only kept in touch with a couple of them myself.
Most of the stuff I heard was from Soph having stayed local, and it wasn’t like Fia had a sibling to do that for her.
“Well,” I said, gesturing to the magazine Fia was still holding behind her back, “keep some space in your collection if you’re coming back here next week because I think you’ll be adding another article.”
Alistair lit up. He was a sweet man. “Do you have another piece coming out about you?”
“Oh, no.” I hesitated. “Well, yes, but not yet. No, next week is Sophie. Her studio got a writeup in an online tattoo space that’s kind of a big deal. Some of her work is going to be included.”
“I have been wondering if I can just print it out and hand copies to everyone,” Dad said, his face scrunched in consideration. “Or, I could get little business cards with QR codes on and have everyone link to it. Would that be better? More views for the website?”
I laughed. “It would do that, and I think QR business cards would mortify Soph. Do it.”
He laughed, but my gaze caught on Fia. She was watching Dad with a confused expression, and, god, if I didn’t want to ask a million questions on what that was about.