‘Do you have tequila?’ There was an odd note in his voice. I hardly needed reminding that tequila was what we’d both been drinking before we ended up in bed together.

I sucked in a breath. ‘I don’t have any. But I can go out and get some if you…’

He forestalled me. ‘It was a joke, Ivy. I’m fine.’

I laughed unconvincingly.

Winter sat back down on the same chair, took out a manila folder and opened it up. ‘Despite the production company’s recalcitrance,’ he said formally, ‘we have managed to procure you a position via one of the recruitment agencies they use. You will be working for them for the duration of filming.’

The thought of being on set for Enchantment was almost enough to make me forget the strange awkwardness between us. I had sudden visions of operating a camera or snapping a clapboard and yelling ‘Action!’ It might be work but it also sounded fun.

I grinned in delight and shook out my hair. ‘I’m ready for my close-up, Mr de Winter.’

He gave me a blank look. ‘You will be a runner with duties involving—’

Whoa. Hold on a minute. I interrupted him. ‘What did you say?’

‘You’ll be a runner.’

My shoulders slumped. ‘That was what I thought I heard.’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t think myself and running go together.’ I raised my eyebrows pointedly. ‘You should know that.’

Winter sighed. ‘You won’t actually be running. It’s an entry-level position, which is all we could get you with your lack of experience. You’ll mostly be completing errands for the crew. It works out very well because it means you’ll have plenty of reasons to be in all sorts of places. You can get to know everyone on set and you’ll be well placed to discover any anomalies.’

‘I’m afraid I’m still focused on the word runner.’

‘Ivy…’

‘What?’

He pressed his lips into a line. ‘You’ll be fine.’

I wasn’t so sure of that. ‘There must be something else I could do.’

‘There’s not.’ He checked the sheet in front of him. ‘You will report each morning at 5am.’ I began to splutter but Winter completely ignored me and carried on. ‘Your contracted hours will run until 6pm.’

‘That’s thirteen hours!’

‘You get a break for lunch,’ he informed me, as if that made all the difference.

‘Thirteen, Winter! I know you don’t believe in superstitions but come on! You need to get that changed.’

‘You can finish at 7pm if you prefer. Sometimes there will be night shoots so you may well be expected to stay for longer.’

‘No way. I’m not doing it.’

He looked up. ‘Are you complaining that you have to work for thirteen hours or that you have to work?’

‘It’s slave labour!’ I protested. ‘No one should have to work for that length of time. Even Order geeks probably don’t…’ My voice faltered when I saw the expression on his face. I gritted my teeth. ‘Fine.’ I’d just have to seek out a quiet corner where I could snooze for a few hours each afternoon. If all I was doing was ‘running’, that shouldn’t be too hard.