Skype

I was going to update early today but then Windows decided to update. Cue a two hour wait...

BUT HERE IT IS! Hope you like it. But first, some cast choices:

Samuel Courtenay (Daniel's brother) ~ Aaron Johnson

Jasmine Gough (Sophie's NYC Assistant) ~ Mallory Jansen

Yeah, so... here's the update!

Sarah, xx

p.s. SURPRISE, it's a chapter! Hope you like it! (UNEDITED)

~*~*~

"Alfie, get down from there!" I sigh in exasperation as I try to move the dog from the couch.

The terrier, who in the few days he's been here has definitely made it his home, gave me a cold stare but eventually settled on the opposite side of the sofa, throwing himself down and burrowing his nose between his paws. It wasn't exactly the outcome I hoped for, but as long as he wasn't sitting in my spot, I could live with it.

I pulled out my laptop and logged in, opening the Skype application and waiting for the call to come through. It had been a week since I last saw Sophie's face and I was worried that I might forget what she looked like. Her hair was brown and her eyes blue, sparkling with her mischievousness, and the way her lips would curl up at the sides when she smiled was mesmerising. It was the first thing that drew me to her that January night at the gallery opening. She doesn't know that I'd spotted her from across the room, the way her dress clung to her slim body showcasing her curves, the slight indentation of her waist in comparison to her chest and hips. I was drawn to her immediately. From our conversations on the phone, I knew she would be easy to talk to, but my nervousness at meeting her kept me from going to talk to her. Instead, I kept my distance that night, admiring her from afar.

It was the same admiration I held for her now. Sophie Evangeline Delaney, or Clément as she preferred, is unlike every woman I have ever known. Others have tried too hard to pretend to be someone that they're not. Previous girlfriends, especially Arabella, have changed themselves to be the woman they thought they had to be if I was to one day make them a Duchess. They'd start off being fun and flirty but within a year, that side of them would be gone, replaced by a seriousness that made them boring. The change would be gradual, but it was the same for each one.

Sophie, however, knows who she is. She's worldly and is self-assured. Yes, she has bouts of insecurities when it comes to relationships, but for the most part, she is her own person. Funny, sarcastic, ambitious, Sophie is all those things plus a million more. She's strong. Sometimes she's too strong and has built walls around her that makes it hard for people to see past the facade that she wants them to see. However, I was one of the few that she let her guard down with. Why else would she have told me which part of that French song was her favourite? It wasn't even something Hugo knew about her, so surely that meant she trusted me.

It was a trust that I was going to make sure that wasn't misplaced. From hanging out with Hugo, I'd become privy to certain information that Sophie hadn't yet told me. At times, when Hugo spoke, I was worried that I shouldn't know half of what I know now but he assured me that it wasn't of any importance. Ne t'en fais pas, Hugo would tell me. Don't worry. Still, I felt nervous about knowing what I knew.

Especially, the details of her most recent break up. It wasn't something I had ever asked about, but Hugo insisted that I know. The man, Owen, had been with Sophie for about seven months and was keen to propose to her. He'd bought the ring, asked for Jimmy's permission and had planned a proposal that would begin with him taking her to Paris before getting down on one knee at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Sophie, however, had found the ring a week before the trip and was quick to break off their relationship. Hugo shared that Owen had taken the break up badly and was constantly trying to win Sophie back, but it proved useless. Sophie, once her mind was made, was a stubborn woman and refused to backtrack on her decision.

I'd asked Hugo why Sophie had acted that way; what had made her so sure that she didn't want to get married.

"She cannot give a man what they want most," Hugo answered in heavily accented English. He drank more of his beer, looking off into the distance, torn on whether or not he should say more. When he felt my gaze on him, he sighed and turned to explain further. "Les enfants."

Children.

I tried to explain to Hugo that having children wasn't the be-all and end-all for men. I mean, look at Elias. He has a child and could not care less about Nola. Yes, sometimes there'd be days where he would make an effort to see her and play daddy for the day, but for the most part, Elias was an absentee father.

"Mais Sophie is different," Hugo continued when I tried to protest with his theory that her inability to have children was a factor in anything. "Sophie thinks her worth is measured in... je ne sais pas. Sophie believes men will not want her because she cannot have children. She thinks she is worthless, donc she pushes people away. You will be the same."

"I won't," I said vehemently. "I'm not going anywhere."

Hugo gave me a sad smile and small shake of the head. "You will," he all but promised me.

It had made me uncomfortable to think that Sophie would push me away and I was determined to be the one that made her realise that she had a worth beyond her ability to have children.

The laptop chimed with an incoming call. For reasons unknown to me, I patted down my hair and tried to smooth out my beard, wanting to look somewhat decent for Sophie. With our time differences and such, who knows when our next Skype session would be, so if this is the last time she's going to see me for a while, then I damn well want to look good.

"Hi," I say as soon as I hit the answer button and Sophie's face fills the screen.

She looks exactly as I remember her. The same dark hair, almost raven in colour, the sparkling blue eyes, the wide smile. This was Sophie. Her beaming smile made my own lips pull up into a grin and I couldn't help but stare at her as she playfully waved at me through the screen.

"Well, hello stranger," she teased, biting down on her lip as her eyes moved across her screen. "You look good, Danny Boy."

I roll my eyes at the nickname, one of many that she has for me. I was never one for nicknames; everyone called me Dan at school and for the most part, they still do, but nothing compared to when Sophie used one against me. "You too, Pug," I say, playing her at her own game. It was worth it to see her forehead crease and her face scrunch up at the sound of her childhood moniker. I laughed when she poked her tongue out at me. "Haha, you're so weird."

Sophie was weird, there was no doubt about that, but it was more than just being weird. It was a unique quality that only she possessed and that only she could get away with. Her mind, I found, worked at ten times the rate mine worked, never stopping to take a pause. She would seamlessly go from talking about one subject to another to another, without needing to stop or think of a good segue into the next topic. One minute she'll be talking about high fashion, the next she'll be talking about climate change in the Arctic Circle and it would seem like a logic expansion on what we'd already been discussing. To others- and to me, at the beginning- this was a weird quality to possess, but now I learnt to just roll with it and accept Sophie for how she is. Perfect.

"But all the weird people are the best people," Sophie said as a matter of fact. She picked up a mug and brought it up to her mouth. Pursing her lips, she blew on the contents before bringing the mug up to her lips and drinking the liquid. She winced and muttered something under her breath that vague sounded like, too hot. Setting the mug down, her attention came back to me. "So, how did it go last night? I want details, Daniel, and nothing left to spare. Shoot."

Getting comfortable on the couch, I place my laptop in my lap and lift my legs to rest on the coffee table. "It wasn't that bad," I say, remembering the dinner I had shared with my brother last night. "It was awkward but after a while it was... nice. For once, it was like we could just get along, you know?"

Sophie gives me a reassuring smile and nods. "That's good. Isn't it?"

"We talked," I continue as I watch Sophie move in her seat, bringing one leg under her, while the other leg was bent, foot flush on the sofa that she sat on. One arm draped on the back of her seat, the other now nursing her mug. She looked relaxed, her hair in a messy ponytail, and her attention was solely on me, nodding in my direction to encourage me to divulge more information. "I didn't really want to mention anything about Arabella at first but after a while, it was almost like there was an elephant in the room. I asked him why he did that, and do you know what he said?"

Sophie shakes her head, eyes narrowing in suspicion of what I'm about to say next. "He said," I laugh lightly as I recall the utmost honesty in Samuel's voice when he gave me his explanation. "He said he only slept with Arabella because he needed to prove to me that she wasn't the one."

"How," Sophie begins, pausing to slurp at her drink. "How does that work? Surely he could have done that some other way, you know, without having to shag her."

That was exactly what I had said to Samuel in the restaurant yesterday evening. After he was a no show on Tuesday, I had reached out to my brother and invited him to dine with me last night. At first, Samuel was sceptical, but after much persuasion- and a less than polite call from our childhood nanny, Evelyn- Samuel eventually agreed.

I'd made reservations at Goldman's, the eatery that Samuel always insisted we go to when it was his birthday. I wasn't a fan of the place, as my brother noted when we finally sat, but our dinner wasn't about me. It was about Samuel. He arrived on time, a feat in itself, and he hardly grumbled when we were sat, trying to find a common thread of conversation. The first twenty minutes had been awkward but after the first of the whiskey drinks were consumed, the tension released and Samuel finally bit the bullet.

He asked several questions about my life- work, home, Alfie, Sophie- and I answered them all as best I could. He ventured, after the starters were cleared, to ask about Arabella. Had I seen her lately? I shook my head in response before asking if he had seen her.

"No," Samuel replied, shaking his head while averting his eyes. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, one hand clasped tightly around the whiskey tumbler. "Not for a few weeks now. After your break up, we had a brief fling, but it didn't last. It wasn't as satisfactory after."

"Satisfactory?" I'd asked, hardly fazed by his choice of words.

"You don't sound angry," Samuel noted, his green gaze moving to meet mine in an amused manner. Leaning back in his chair, he had the gall to smirk at me. "I'm not surprised, if I'm honest. I mean, you never did seem like you were in love with her."

Downing my drink, I set the empty tumbler on the table and motioned to the barman for a refill. "If I didn't seem in love with her," I mused aloud. "Then why did you sleep with her? After all, you were only doing it to get back at me."

Samuel laughed, rushing his dark over grown hair from his face. "It was never about getting back at you, Dan," he said simply. "Despite what I may have said previously, what I did with Arabella was never about getting back at you. If I wanted to do that, I would have left you two alone, sat back and watched as you made the biggest fuck up of your life. I would have gladly gone to your wedding, been a witness to your loveless marriage and gloat in your misfortune."

"Why didn't you do that, then?" I asked, needing answers from my brother. In all the years, this was the frankest talk we'd ever had, as if years and years of what was left unsaid were finally coming to the surface. Finally, we were talking. "You hate me, so you could-"

"Daniel," Samuel cut me off, his voice weary. Rubbing his eyes, he sighed heavily. "Your my brother, you idiot. I've never truly hated you. I mean, yes, there are days that I don't particularly like you, but deep down... I love you. That's why I did what I did with Arabella. You had to see that she wasn't the one for you."

As I recalled all these details to Sophie, I saw the way her lips twitched when I mentioned the fact that my brother didn't really hate me, but actually loved me. She muttered something unintelligible and leaned forward, repositioning herself so that her legs were now crossed under her. "Basically," Sophie said, trying to summarise what I'd told her. "Samuel loves you and couldn't stand by and watch as you married someone who would make you unhappy, so he slept with her in the hopes that you'd find out and what, break up with her?"

I nod. "That's about it, yeah," I say, unable to stop the laughter in my voice. "Totally fucked up, I know, but my brother has never been a logical one. He said that he'd been setting up their meetings for months and each time I was close to finding out, but Arabella would kick him out of the flat just as I arrived home. One time, Samuel was stood out on our balcony half naked and had to wait for Arabella to usher me to the shower before she could get him out of the flat."

"Still doesn't explain why he couldn't just come up to you and go, 'Look, bro, I hate your girlfriend. Ditch the bitch,'" Sophie says, her voice becoming comically deep for the part when she imitated Samuel. With a slight shrug of her shoulder, she smiled. "You and Samuel, are you good now? Did you sort everything else out?"

I nod, explaining that we'd had a five hour long dinner, talking about everything. Samuel laid all his grievances out for me to hear, but as the night wore on he came to realise that most of them were things he'd created in his own mind and didn't really exist.

When the fact that I was going to inherit most of our familial wealth as well as a Dukedom came to the core, I apologised to Samuel for the way he was being shunned. He laughed and assured me that he didn't want any of that 'fuss' and that he was content with what he had. Yes, the income from the title would be nice, but it wasn't worth the hassle of everything else that comes with it. Plus, Samuel said, he would run the Dukedom into ruin, leaving nothing left for the next generation.

"I think we're in a better place today than we were in yesterday," I admit to Sophie. Clearing my throat, I look up at the screen, catching her eye. "Thank you, Soph. You know, if it wasn't for you, I would never have tried to build bridges with Samuel. I owe you."

With a roll of her eye, Sophie swatted the air in front of her face. "Nonsense," she insists. "I only planted the seed of reconciliation in your mind. You did a lot more than I did. It takes a lot of courage to call your brother and to sit with him to discuss everything."

"I forgave him," I explain. "He never asked for forgiveness, but I gave it to him anyway." A pause in conversation followed, but there was a background hum of noise on Sophie's end of the line. "Where are you?"

"Work," she says, comfortably drinking her drink now.

"You have a couch in your office?" I ask, noticing the cream colour of the wall behind her.

"Of course," Sophie says in that 'duh' tone of hers.

Picking up her laptop, she starts to manoeuvre around the room, showing me the small details that were on show. She spans the camera of the laptop towards the floor where a large light grey carpet rug dominates the floor. Bringing the camera upright once more, she shows me the desk that is currently bare. An Apple iMac was on one side of the desk, while a previous copy of Vogue and an iPad was on the opposite side. I had expected the desk to be more cluttered, but it was very neat and organised, as were the display shelves that were on the wall behind Sophie's desk. Several fashion books were on display, as were photo frames of smiling faces and scented candles. I noticed several vases of white roses dotted around the room and frowned.

"I thought you were allergic to flowers," I noted, hoping that that was the case. I she wasn't allergic then why had she given away all the flowers I'd bought as an apology for her back in February?

"They're fake," she laughed, reaching for one and trying to tug a petal off. Nothing happened. "When I arrived on Monday, people kept sending me congratulatory bouquets. It was horrendous. I had to get Jasmine to keep taking them away. Once she knew why I was redirecting the flowers, she went out and stocked up on these. Apparently, it's nice to have flowers in your office because it makes it look more homely."

"Well, your office looks lovely," I say, smiling at her through the screen.

"I haven't finished showing it to you yet!" Sophie excitedly said.

She zoomed the camera in on the fur cushioned adorned corner sofa that was in her office, as well as more photo frames that were on the wall. Another set of shelves showed off random items of fashion accessories and a disturbing number of shoes on display. In the corner, there was a small glass round table with two chairs, that Sophie called 'ghost chairs.' The table was very much Sophie- cluttered and disorganised. Photos were spread across the surface, along with several print outs of articles that had red markings all over them. An empty coffee mug sat amongst the paperwork.

"Did a bomb hit your desk?" I teased. There were some rustling noises from Sophie's end before she set her laptop down on a flat surface, angling the camera back up at her. She poked her tongue out at me. "So that's where you call home these days, huh?"

"Please," she said in an over exaggerated voice. "The only home I have is London, but this is my office for the next few months, yes."

"Any word on how long you're going to be there for?" I ask.

Sophie and I had never discussed exactly how long she'd be gone for, but I knew that it would be for longer than I was hoping for. At first I expected her to be gone for a month or two, but she simply shook her head, insinuating she'd be gone for longer. After that, I decided it as better not to ask, but now I really needed to know.

"Until October," Sophie said, her voice almost inaudible.

"October?!" I couldn't help but shout. I saw Sophie wince at my yelling which instantly made me regret my outburst. Lowering my voice, I say, "That's a long way away."

She nods in agreement. "I know. I'll be back in a fortnight for the London Marathon, but that'll only be for a few days. After that, the next time I'm over that way will be at the beginning of July for Paris Couture Fashion week. September is hectic because New York Fashion week kicks off on the eighth, followed by all the other major cities. I won't be at London or Milan, but I'll be back for Paris, which concludes on October fifth. That's when I'll be moving back. While everyone else is enjoying London and Milan, I'll be packing to come home."

I crack a smile, which instantly made Sophie look at me curiously. "You'll be back in London from October what, sixth?" She nods. "My birthday is the eighth. You'll be home in time for my birthday!"

Sophie laughs at my enthusiasm. "In that case, we are celebrating," she says with ease, as if she's always been around to celebrate it with me. "Elias and I can plan something for you."

We talk for a while longer about plans before Alfie decided to come and harass me for food. I point at a cooing Sophie on the screen but Alfie hardly seems bothered about seeing her. He turns his nose up at her and paws at me until I eventually get up to feed him. Leaving Sophie briefly, I follow my master to the kitchen and place his dinner into the bowl Sophie had chosen for him last week. When I return, I see Sophie talking with some woman that's dressed all in black. The woman must have noticed my reappearance because she suddenly stopped listening to Sophie and instead peered down at me.

"Oh, my God!" She exclaimed in that annoying American accent that sounds too sweet to be true. "Is that him? Oh, whoa, you are so much hotter than I thought you'd be. Girl, why did you leave him behind in old London town?" The woman asked Sophie. When she didn't receive a reply, the woman looked back at me through the camera. "Hi, I'm Jasmine, Sophie's assistant. We've heard all about you and trust me when I say that we're all so damned excited about you coming over for the Met Gala! Sophie has this amazing dress lined up an-"

"Jasmine?" Sophie's voice is eerily calm as she asks for her assistant's attention. Jasmine snaps her head towards her boss, taking the folder that Sophie held out for her. With a tight smile, Sophie nods at her. "Daniel doesn't need to know about my dress. Take those to Nigel and to see what he thinks of my notes. Oh, and while you're down that way, tell, uh..."

"Natalie," Jasmine says confidently, giving Sophie the name she couldn't remember. When Sophie quirks an eyebrow at Jasmine, she smiles in return. "I'm your assistant. It's my job to practically read your mind. So, tell Natalie to come over to see you about that article she submitted."

Sophie nods. "If it's your job to read my mind, what am I thinking now?"

"Oh, that's easy," Jasmine smiles, walking out of view but her voice still audible. You want me to leave to go to Nigel and see Natalie, but you also want some more privacy with your boyfriend so you can profess your undying love for him. I'm going now. Bye, Daniel!"

A beat passes. "I like her," I say through my laughter, earning a scowl from Sophie. "You can profess your undying love for me now, if you want."

"Pass," Sophie says, teasingly. "How are things going with Alfie? Clearly he's forgotten me."

"He hasn't and it's going good," I say. "We joined a dog walking club so he gets to be around other dogs and I get to be around other humans. Most of them are women but they're all really nice."

Sophie nods slowly. "That's great," she says, her voice sounding strange over the line. In the background, someone knocks on Sophie's office door, making her look up over the camera. When her blue eyes met mine once more, the sparkle has disappeared. "I have to go, Daniel. I'll call you tomorrow, ok? I, uh... I miss you, by the way."

"I miss you, too," I tell her earnestly. "We should make this Skype thing a weekly tradition, what do you say?"

She nods. "Absolutely. Give Alfie a kiss from me," she says, leaning in closer to the camera and puckering her lips in a kissing gesture. When she pulls away, she winks at me. "That one was for you."

I laugh. "Save it for when you're back in a fortnight."

"We'll see," she teases me. "Got to go, Danny Boy."

"Ok, Pug," I say, yet again earning a glare from Sophie. I wave at her. "Love you, bye."

"Love you, bye," she says.

Then the line goes dead and all I have left is a blank, black screen.