Someone Like You: Escape with this perfect uplifting romance

by Tracy Corbett

  Will blinked as if he’d forgotten the woman was standing there. ‘Right. Sorry, of course.’ He smiled. ‘Lily, this is my sister, Gemma. She’s the company’s finance director.’

  His sister? This was getting worse by the second.

  The woman held out her hand. ‘Gemma Hamilton, pleased to meet you.’ She exuded confidence, her voice assertive. Her eyes were as intense as her brother’s. Added to this was her square jaw, no-nonsense smart-casual jacket and unwavering gaze. All in all, quite an intimidating package.

  Lily shook Gemma’s hand, trying to hide her wince when her elbow complained. ‘You, too.’

  ‘And this is Lily Monroe,’ Will said to his sister. ‘Our new costume designer.’

  Costume designer?

  The world stilled.

  It took a few seconds for the words to reach her brain.

  She was the costume designer? Not an apprentice? Not here on an internship? She was expected to be head honcho? The person in charge. Knowledgeable. Experienced… All of which, she most certainly wasn’t.

  Blood drained from her head faster than a F1 car accelerating from the starting grid.

  ‘Lily’s a last-minute replacement for Nina,’ Will said to his sister. ‘She’s a very experienced designer. We were lucky to get her at such short notice.’

  The world had gone into a spin.

  The potted plants lining the courtyard began to blur, whizzing around as if caught in a sudden whirlwind.

  This was a disaster. Worse. It was a catastrophe.

  What the hell was she going to do?

  ‘I… I think there’s been some misunderstanding,’ she said, struggling for breath. ‘I didn’t realise I was undertaking the role of costume designer for the film.’

  Will looked confused. ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘No… I… I thought I was being taken on as an… as an—’ she trailed off.

  She could hardly say ‘apprentice’, could she? She’d told him she was a designer. It wouldn’t make sense for her to take an unpaid internship. Not with her supposed experience. Oh, hell.

  ‘As… as an… assistant,’ she said, trying to rally her flagging brain.

  He laughed, a sound she hadn’t heard for several months. ‘Well, that would be a waste of your talents, wouldn’t it?’ The smile on his face was laced with sincerity. ‘Don’t worry, you’re in complete control. The team will support you in any way they can. Frankie is a very experienced project manager. She’s overseen this kind of work loads of times.’

  Not what she wanted to hear.

  There was no way she could get way with this. She’d have to come clean.

  But then she’d miss out on her opportunity to gain some work experience.

  She needed to think, but her brain was refusing to work.

  ‘So how do you two know each other?’ Gemma looked between them, a questioning expression on her face. ‘Have you worked together before?’

  It was Will’s turn to look uncomfortable. He glanced at his feet, unwilling to look his sister in the eye. ‘We’ve not worked together before. We… err… met on holiday.’

  Gemma’s eyes widened. ‘In the Caribbean?’

  Will’s cheeks coloured. ‘We got chatting one night… and Lily mentioned she was a costume designer, so when Nina had to withdraw at short notice, I thought of Lily.’

  ‘Convenient.’ Gemma folded her arms.

  Will rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Luckily, one of the agencies we use had Lily’s details on file, so we were able to make contact and see if she was available. And she was.’ His voice sounded a little frantic. ‘So here we are.’

  Gemma nodded. ‘Here we are.’

  Lily could feel them staring at her.

  She wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole.

  She needed time to think. To work out a plan. To regroup and work out how she was going to deal with this. And… if she couldn’t? Then she needed an escape plan.

  ‘So what other projects have you worked on?’ Gemma asked. Her question seemed genuine enough, but Lily’s brain wasn’t up to coping with an interrogation. Or further lying. Her deception had caused enough problems as it was.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I’m feeling a little faint,’ she said, which was entirely true. Her fall was the perfect excuse needed to engineer a way out. And boy, did she need an out.

  Will took her arm. ‘Why didn’t you say? Do you need to see a doctor?’

  ‘No, I’m fine. I just need to go back to my room and lie down.’

  ‘Of course, I’ll take you—’

  ‘I’ll take her,’ Gemma interrupted.

  ‘It’s okay, Gemma. I can take her—’

  ‘I’ve got this.’ Gemma glared at her brother. ‘You stay and chat to the team. I’ll take Lily back to the guesthouse.’

  ‘I’m fine to go by myself.’ Lily stepped away, unwilling to be stuck between squabbling siblings. ‘I appreciate your kindness, but really, I’m fine.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Will frowned at her.

  Her traitorous heart ached at the sight of his concerned expression. So much for getting over him. She was a complete mess.

  ‘Absolutely,’ she said, moving away, determined to appear composed and hide the shake in her legs. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening.’

  Will watched her go. ‘See you tomorrow?’ he called after her, sounding to her ears a tad confused.

  She couldn’t blame him. She was somewhat confused herself.

  She managed a weak nod, already dreading the morning.

  What the hell had she done?

  More importantly, what the hell was she going to do about it?

  Chapter Eleven

  Monday, 14 June

  The start of a new project was always hectic. There was nothing creative about the initial process. It was a case of managing logistics. Or, as Will called it, herding cats. He’d never had to oversee the making of a film before and it was throwing up a whole host of new conundrums. Like where to place the cast trailers? Was there enough room for the contractors? How to fit the crew and the multitude of equipment into the temporary portacabins? And why was there never a decent brew available when he needed one?

  They didn’t have the luxury of staggering the arrival of everything, either. Film production time was precious, so not a moment could be wasted. Everything had to be on set and ready for the start of filming. Which in this case, was tomorrow. He had one day to finish getting organised.

  His phone pinged with a message. The wardrobe trailers were about to arrive. Good. One more thing he could tick off his list.

  He glanced over to the portacabin to check Poppy was okay. With workshop and office space in Windsor in short supply as well as costing an arm and a leg, they’d obtained permission from the local authority to erect a temporary work hub within the grounds of Windsor Great Park. It wasn’t ideal, as there was no electrical supply, so they’d had to hire generators, but the views made up for any inconvenience. Acres of greenery, with centuries old oak trees and herds of deer huddled together in the distance. Only the solitary tarmacked road cutting through the middle of the vast expanse broke through the spell of being transported back to medieval England.

  The work hub was set back from the road, hidden behind a cluster of trees, so as not to blemish the tranquillity of the views. His makeshift office might be the size of a single garage, but it was a lot better than some of the projects he’d worked on. And it was big enough to accommodate his daughter, who wasn’t at school today, courtesy of an inset day.

  The portacabin door was open, allowing him to see inside. Poppy was hunched over the desk, fully engaged in the art project she was working on.

  Satisfied she was safe, Will headed up to meet the wardrobe trailers. The costumes should have been ready by now, but they were still playing catch-up from losing their original designer through sickness.

  Being so far behind in the schedule wasn’t ideal, but hiccups were only to be expected on a project of this magnitu
de. His job was to find a solution. Like hiring Lily Monroe as a replacement designer. A solution that came with its own set of sub-issues – namely, admitting to his new designer that he had a daughter. Not something he was particularly looking forward to, but the sooner he came clean the better. He just hoped she’d forgive him for lying to her in the first place.

  As he neared the road, he was met by his sister bounding across the grass, looking like Bambi on steroids. ‘Ah, here you are. I’ve been looking for you. We need to talk.’

  He kept walking, knowing why she wanted to talk to him, and wanting to avoid the conversation. ‘Can’t stop. Too busy.’

  ‘Will, wait.’ Gemma chased after him. ‘You can’t keep avoiding me.’

  He could bloody well try. ‘No time. The wardrobe trailers are arriving.’

  ‘That’s what I want to talk to you about.’ She caught his arm. ‘What’s going on?’

  He shrugged free from her grip. ‘No idea what you mean.’

  ‘Yes, you do.’ She blocked his path, placing her hands on his chest. ‘Lily Monroe.’

  He avoided eye contact. ‘What about her?’

  ‘Exactly.’ She pinned him with a stare. ‘What about her? Who is she?’

  ‘You know who she is. She’s a costume designer. She came on board last minute to replace Nina. Now, if you’ll excuse me.’ He removed her hands and continued towards the road.

  Gemma followed. ‘But we know nothing about her. Or at least, I don’t.’

  He upped his speed and flagged down the two large white trailers turning into the park. ‘What’s there to know? She’s a designer. We needed a designer. End of.’

  ‘But what are her credentials?’ Gemma said, running to keep up with him. ‘I can’t find anything about her online. There’s no website. No LinkedIn profile. Who is she? What productions has she worked on? Does she come recommended? Have you applied for references?’

  He glanced at his sister, who was panting in an effort to keep up. ‘Jesus, Gemma. I didn’t have time to do any of that. We were in a jam and I needed to find someone urgently.’ He reached the first trailer and knocked on the cab door, attracting the driver’s attention. ‘Park in the gravel car park on the right-hand side,’ he shouted at the driver, who gave him a thumbs-up and drove off.

  Gemma appeared in front of him. ‘But you usually vet any new contractors. Obsessively so.’

  He shrugged. ‘There was no time.’

  Ignoring her disapproving glare, he jogged towards the second trailer and gestured for the driver to follow his mate.

  Gemma was by his side again, like a persistent terrier. ‘What, not even to make a quick phone call? Have you forgotten the magnitude of this project?’

  He turned to her. ‘Gemma, what’s your point? Why are you giving me such a hard time over this?’

  Her hands went to her hips. She was dressed in full business mode, a black trouser power suit and crisp white shirt. ‘Because you’re behaving out of character. We’ve made last-minute personnel changes before, but you’ve never skipped on the vetting process.’

  ‘Because I never knew the people concerned before. This time I did.’ His phone pinged with another message. The security guard needed clearance for someone without a pass at the front gate. Lily Monroe.

  His heartrate sped up, which was immediately dulled by his sister’s next comment.

  ‘But not in a professional capacity,’ she said, her face etched with concern. ‘She was just some random woman you met on holiday.’

  ‘Lily isn’t random.’ Will turned and walked off, heading for his portacabin.

  ‘No?’ Gemma followed him. ‘What is she then?’

  ‘She’s no one.’ His chest contracted with the lie. ‘What I mean is… she’s a business contact. We met on holiday and hung out a bit. We became friendly. We talked about our careers, and that’s how I discovered she was a costume designer. I didn’t think anything of it until Nina was taken ill and we needed a replacement, and then…’ His eyes flitted about the open expanse of Crown land, his brain searching for a plausible explanation. ‘Lily just popped into my head. It seemed like fate.’

  ‘Fate?’ Gemma sounded incredulous. ‘You don’t believe in fate.’

  ‘Luck, then. You know, a solution to a problem.’ Who was he trying to kid? He ignored his sister’s expression and jumped up the steps to the portacabin and headed inside. ‘Hey there, sweetie. You okay?’

  Poppy lifted her drawing for him to see. ‘It’s the Arctic.’ She had drawn a penguin standing outside an igloo.

  ‘Cool. Nice work.’

  Gemma joined him in the portacabin. ‘Nothing more?’

  It was too much to hope his sister would shut up. ‘Like what, Gemma?’

  ‘Like maybe she’s more than a solution to a problem?’ she continued, undeterred. ‘Like maybe her appointment as costume designer is more about you having a crush on her than her suitability for the position.’

  Poppy looked intrigued. ‘Who has a crush?’

  ‘Nobody, sweetie. Aunty Gemma is talking rubbish.’

  Gemma appeared by his side. ‘Then why did you look all mushy-eyed when you saw her yesterday? You haven’t smiled like that since…’ She lowered her voice. ‘Since Sara.’

  Like he needed reminding. But the last thing he wanted to do was discuss his love life in front of Poppy. ‘I was pleased to see her, that’s all. Relieved that she’d accepted the job and bailed us out of a hole.’

  ‘Who were you pleased to see, Daddy?’ Poppy’s eyes were wide with curiosity. ‘A lady?’

  Oh, hell. That was all he needed. ‘No one, sweetie.’ He glared at his sister, wanting to throttle her, and then turned back to his daughter, smiling. ‘What are you going to draw next?’

  He could feel Gemma studying him. ‘Why do I sense there’s more to it?’

  ‘Because you’re an annoying meddler, that’s why.’ He kept his focus on Poppy. ‘How about a polar bear?’

  Gemma punched his arm.

  ‘Ow, bully.’ He rubbed his arm and turned to her. ‘Look, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll apply for references, okay? I’ll contact her last job and show due diligence. Satisfied?’

  ‘Better late than never, I suppose.’

  ‘Are we done now?’

  She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Big of you.’ He checked his watch. ‘Now, can you keep an eye on Poppy while I go and deal with Lily?’

  Gemma rolled her eyes. ‘Sure. Take all the time you need. I mean, I wouldn’t want to keep you away from Lily.’

  ‘Who’s Lily?’ Poppy was no longer focused on her drawing. ‘Is she the lady you have a crush on?’

  He bit back a curse. ‘No, sweetie. She’s the new costume designer for the film we’re making.’

  ‘Can I meet her?’ Poppy sounded excited.

  ‘Maybe another time.’ He kissed the top of Poppy’s head, figuring there was no way he could spring his daughter on Lily just yet when she was still reeling from seeing him again. ‘Be good for Aunty Gemma. I won’t be long.’

  Poppy frowned. ‘Why can’t I come with you to meet Lily?’

  Because Lily doesn’t know you exist.

  ‘Because it’s work stuff, sweetie. You’d be bored. You stay here with Aunty Gemma. I’ll be back soon.’

  She looked disappointed. ‘Ohhhkaaay.’

  ‘Good girl.’ He headed out the door.

  ‘Don’t come crying to me if she turns out to be a disaster,’ Gemma called after him, as he jumped from the portacabin’s steps and started jogging towards the security hut.

  ‘She won’t be,’ he yelled back, praying he was right.

  Up until yesterday, Will had had no doubts about hiring Lily. He was full of excitement at the idea of seeing her again. His head had been filled with romantic ideas about how their reunion would pan out: something like witnessing her initial shocked expression, followed by her joy, and then the pair of them would embrace in a romantic clinch.r />
  An vision that had been shattered when he’d seen the horrified look on her face.

  He’d realised that imagining Lily throwing her arms around him and kissing him senseless had been a tad unrealistic. But there hadn’t even been a flicker of a smile on her face. No hint of pleasure. Just mortification.

  Not exactly what he’d hoped for.

  She’d seemed different, too. Less confident. Less sparkly. Like the light in her had been snuffed out. Her face was pale. Her eyes downcast. And the polished, confident appearance she’d worn so easily on holiday was nowhere to be seen.

  But then she had just had a shock. She’d also fallen over. Looking a bit peaky was understandable. He was being too harsh, expecting her to greet him with joy and warmth when he’d just ambushed her. She was entitled to be pissed off.

  Still, that was yesterday.

  Hopefully today she’d be back to her bubbly and engaging self.

  A man could hope.

  Lily was waiting by the security hut. She was dressed in dark jeans with a white top under a grey V-neck thin sweater. A black rucksack hung mournfully from her back. Her face was devoid of make-up, making her appear younger. The only colour came from her copper-highlighted hair, the bob shape slightly outgrown since their holiday.

  His stomach dipped.

  Not that she wasn’t still attractive, she was, but in the Caribbean she had glowed. Her whole aura had radiated positivity and happiness. He’d been drawn to her, like a hapless moth circling a lightbulb.

  Now she fiddled with her hands nervously. She kept glancing behind her, as though she wanted to escape.

  Hiding his disappointment, he approached with a smile, hoping to allay her nerves. ‘Hey, there, Lily. You made it okay?’

  She held out her hand for him to shake. ‘Good morning, Mr Taylor.’

  Mr Taylor? How formal. ‘Will is fine,’ he said, taking her hand, noticing the slight shake. ‘We’re on first name terms here.’

  She withdrew her hand. ‘Whatever you say.’

  Frosty.

  Not a good sign.