‘Great?’ There was a question in his voice and, because he knew her so well, she knew what the question was.
‘Yes.’ She shut her eyes and lay back on the bed, wondering how much Phil could read into that single answer.
‘Jessie, you will be careful, won’t you?’
Looks like he read too much. ‘Of course I will.’
There was a beat of silence and she knew he was wondering how much he could say without pissing her off. ‘It’s just I know you’ve always liked this guy, and you have a vivid imagination.’
She squeezed her eyes even further shut. ‘I’m not stupid enough to imagine he might fall for me.’
She heard the relief in his long, slow exhale. ‘Good. Well, enjoy the last few days.’
‘Thank you. And thank you for looking after the boys.’
‘You’ve already said that. Three times now.’
‘Sorry. I’d better go before I say it again. Don’t want you thinking I’m indebted to you.’
Emotion welled inside her as she ended the call and suddenly all she wanted to do was cry, though she wasn’t even sure why. Because she missed her family? Because she was so grateful to Phil for stepping up and giving her this time?
Or because she was scared she wasn’t being careful? She might not be stupid enough to imagine Michael would fall for her, but she had an awful feeling she was stupid enough to fall for him.
Chapter Eight
Michael glanced over at the bedside clock. He was running late. Damn. After the bollocking he’d given Jessie yesterday for turning up late, he needed to get his arse downstairs pronto.
But he felt sluggish this morning. A night spent tossing and turning.
First on his mind had been Jessie. He wasn’t even sure what drew him to her. She was pretty, with her lively brown eyes and dancing curls, but he met and mingled with beautiful. She was funny, too, but he’d dated women just as sharp. Then again, the women he knew used humour to be cutting, where Jessie often directed it against herself. Not that she’d care what he thought of her though, judging by the speed she’d turned down an evening with him last night. The need to talk to her boys had felt like an excuse. As if she’d decided he’d made too many blunders to consider seeing him any more than she had to.
But damn it, she’d have to put up with him a lot more over the next few days, because the other reason he felt so sluggish was he’d woken up in a cold sweat thinking about the final on Saturday.
Hastily he tied his trainers and bolted from the room, miraculously making it into the lobby just in time to see Jessie dashing down the opposite staircase.
‘Morning,’ she said breathlessly.
‘You didn’t chicken out then?’
Laughter tumbled from her in the relaxed, easy way he envied. ‘I nearly did. Confession time, it’s been a while since I went for a run. But I figured I’ve already sung in front of you. I doubt my running is any more embarrassing.’
He wanted to tell her it didn’t matter how well she ran, she looked amazing in Lycra that hugged every curve, but he was terrified of coming off as a celebrity letch. Instead he gave her a smile he knew was stilted and awkward, and led the way outside.
They started off slow, Michael happy to leave it to Jessie to set the pace. Happy simply to be out in the fresh air and jogging next to a woman who didn’t seem to want anything from him, other than to be treated with consideration.
‘I thought we’d run round the park.’ He nodded in the direction of the gates. ‘It’s about three miles. Does that work for you?’
Her eyes, previously focussed on his legs, flew up to his face. ‘Yes, sure.’
He felt a trickle of pleasure. The jury was clearly still out on whether she liked him, but it appeared she liked his legs.
They ran in silence for a while and every now and then he hung back and allowed his own eyes to dip to her legs, the round curve of her buttocks. Did he have the guts to act on this attraction? To risk a rebuff, and subject them both to an awkward few days until the competition was over? And if he did, was it sensible considering he was about to embark on a long tour, and she had two kids in a life a world away from his?
‘I’m sorry.’ She stopped abruptly, crouching with her hands on her knees, her breath coming out in ragged pants. ‘I was stupid to try and run with you. I don’t know what I was thinking.’
‘It’s okay. Rest and get your breath back.’
Slowly she straightened, her cheeks so red they were almost glowing. ‘I guess it was possible to embarrass myself further.’
‘No.’ He scratched at his head. ‘I mean no you haven’t embarrassed yourself. Not no, your singing is so bad you couldn’t embarrass yourself further.’
Her laughter seemed to get stuck in her throat. ‘Oh God. Shoot me now.’
‘Not before Saturday evening.’
She rolled her gorgeous hazel eyes at him and he was so tempted to say to hell with what was sensible and kiss her. Right there in the park.
His face must have reflected his thoughts because she stilled, the amusement leaving her eyes, and for a long, pulsing moment their gaze clashed. Was it desire darkening her eyes, or fear? Were her cheeks flushed with exercise, excitement? Or embarrassment because he was now staring at her?
He dragged his eyes away, wishing not for the first time that the man who could sing so effortlessly on stage, wasn’t such an introverted mess off it.
That’s when he noticed they’d attracted a small crowd.
‘Oi, I know you. You’re that geezer that does the fancy singing.’ A middle-aged man with a pot belly stared back at him. ‘You’re in that show they keep advertising, the one that’s on Saturday.’ He shifted his focus to Jessie. ‘And she’s your singing partner. I saw her picture in the paper, too. Didn’t recognise her with her running kit.’
Michael could almost feel Jessie trying to make herself invisible. He gave the man a practiced smile. ‘I hope you’ll be rooting for us. Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to get back and rehearse.’
Jessie was off like a hare out of a trap. ‘Oh my God,’ she panted when they were out of earshot. ‘That was horrible.’
He didn’t like to tell her that after she’d been on the television, encounters like that were likely to be more frequent for a while. And possibly worse. ‘Which part was horrible?’
‘Them knowing who I was. Seeing me with you, and when I’m all sweaty in my leggings.’ She groaned. ‘How much further till we’re at the hotel?’
‘Not far.’ He gave her an encouraging smile. ‘Especially not at this pace.’
An hour later they were showered, changed and back in the studio. ‘Did you manage to speak to your sons yesterday?’ he asked before they started, remembering his previous blunders.
Her surprise at his question told him more than he wanted to about how brusque he’d been these last few days. ‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Are they looking forward to Saturday?’
The smile that had burst onto her face at the mention of her sons, dimmed. ‘I think they’re more worried than anything. Word has got around now and it seems everyone in the school and the village know their mum will be singing on the telly.’
Because she looked so nervous, and damn it, because he wanted to, Michael reached for her hand and held it. ‘Then soon everyone in the village will know how amazing their mum is.’
Jessie stared at the way Michael’s long tanned fingers wrapped firmly round hers, as if he was trying to force his belief into her through the power of touch. And damn, now her eyes were starting to well.
He released her hand, but only to wipe at a tear that had traitorously crept down her cheek.
‘It’s okay to be nervous. I am before a performance.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. You just have to learn to use the nerves in a positive way, and not let them overwhelm you. I promise you won’t embarrass yourself.’ His eyes softened, brimming with kindness. ‘Don’t forget, you won’t
be alone, I’ll be on stage with you.’
Her breath caught and she had to look away before the emotions trapped in her chest erupted in an embarrassing way. But it was okay, she could do this. She’d have to do this, because there was no way she was letting her family down. And no way she was letting Michael down either.
He motioned for her to sit next to him at the piano and she perched on the end of the stool, very conscious of the warmth of the body next to her.
Don’t think about him. Focus on your words.
There were a few missed starts, a few stumbles, but eventually she made it through the entire piece.
‘I did it!’
‘Not quite.’ Michael shook his head. ‘This is meant to be a love duet. You sang the whole song looking just past my left ear.’
Unconsciously she twisted her hands in her lap. ‘Did I?’
‘You know you did. Please, this time look at me now and again. We have to make the audience believe we at least like each other.’
Her heart began to race. She knew very well she’d avoided his eyes. Singing emotional words of love while looking into the eyes of the man she had an embarrassing crush on was way, way too intimate.
But now he’d asked, how could she not? Clearing her throat, she nodded at him to start again. Each time their eyes caught she flushed, heat prickling her skin. By the time they’d reached the end of the song, she’d fumbled over more words than she’d sung.
‘You knew the words yesterday.’ She could sense his frustration, though he was clearly trying to hide it. ‘Why can’t you remember them today?’
Her eyes strayed to the door, willing someone to come in. The director, the camera crew, heck even Georgina would be preferable to facing Michael right now.
‘Jessie.’ There was a warning edge to his voice.
With a huff she moved away from him, walking to the relative safety of the other side of the room. ‘I can’t sing while I’m looking at you.’
‘Then we’ve got a problem, don’t you think?’ He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
The weary gesture caused a jolt of guilt to slam into her. A sharp reminder that she wasn’t the only one worried about Saturday. If she mucked up she’d embarrass her sons for a few days; herself too. Singing was Michael’s career though. His life.
‘I’m sorry.’ She closed her eyes, wondering how on earth she could explain what she was feeling without it being obvious she had a massive crush on him. And each day she was with him it was getting bigger. ‘When I look at you, I forget what I’m meant to be singing next. Possibly because you’re quite attractive.’
When she dared to raise her eyes, she found a small smile on his face. ‘Quite attractive, huh?’
‘Yep, that about covers it.’
Silence echoed through the room for a few beats until he suddenly stood up and marched out of the room.
Her heart sunk. Oh God, she’d totally embarrassed him. Way to go, Jessie. Just as she was weighing up whether to go and find him, stay put, or go back to the hotel, he appeared again, clutching a paper bag.
Which he proceeded to place over his head.
‘Does this work better?’ he asked, his voice muffled by the bag.
He looked so ridiculous, and so totally at odds with the formal, at times austere man she’d come to know. Laughter exploded out of her, becoming even more uncontrollable when the camera crew chose that moment to wander in.
With the intimate mood broken, especially now there was a camera lens pointing at them and two hulking men behind it, Jessie was able to focus back on the singing. She grew more confident at looking at Michael, though she kept it to fleeting glances, just in case. After each verse Michael would stop her, refining parts here and there, as if he were tuning a musical instrument.
‘I think you’ve had enough for today,’ Michael announced finally, looking over at her as she tried to stifle a yawn.
Blimey, if she was yawning in front of Michael Tennant, she must be bushed. ‘I think you may be right. I’m not sure if I’m shattered from the gruelling marathon you forced on me this morning, the scare of being recognised, or the singing.’
He inclined his head in acceptance. ‘You can tell your boys tonight that I’m a cruel teacher.’
An awkward pause followed. The last two evenings he’d asked her to work late. Would he ask her again? She was painfully aware of how the days were slipping away, not just for the final, but for her time with him.
‘Well, enjoy your evening and try to rest your voice. If that’s possible for you.’ He smiled, just a small curve of his mouth, but together with the tease in his eyes it felt… big, important. Like maybe he was warming to her. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’
As he bent to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek, she chided herself for being so naive. Michael Tennant had better things to do in his evening than sit through another few hours of her murdering the song they’d been practicing all day.
Not murdering, she reminded herself. Not now. More like a gentle euthanasia.
Back in her hotel room, Jessie flopped onto the bed. Phoning home would ground her. Remind her who she was and what was important.
Phil answered on the first ring. ‘Well, if it isn’t the singing superstar again.’
‘Leave it,’ she replied, a little too testily.
‘Touchy, huh? Is someone getting nervous?’
She let out a long, deep sigh. ‘Sorry. It’s been a long day and I really don’t want to talk about it. How are you and Annabel managing?’
‘We’re getting on great. I’ve had a cooked meal on the table every night.’
She could actually hear the grin in his voice. ‘That wasn’t part of the deal. She’s only meant to be looking after Jack and Luke until you get in.’
‘Hey, I can’t help it if the woman wants to feed me. Jack, me and Luke sit at the table with Annabel and her boys each evening to eat. Who’d have thought it?’
‘Certainly not me, as you rarely managed it when you were living with us.’ A bite of jealousy rippled through her at the thought of them all enjoying themselves without her. But you wanted this.
‘I don’t think Annabel wants to be at home at the moment. Things with her clot of a husband seem to be getting worse. I’m being a gentleman and helping her out.’
At times he could be one, she remembered. He could also be lazy and unthinking. ‘Don’t go breaking her heart, Phil. She’s vulnerable right now.’ Annabel hadn’t been happy in her marriage for a long while now, not helped by her estranged husband’s infidelity. Divorce was probably only a matter of time.
‘I know, Jess. I’m not a total idiot.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll go and get the boys. Maybe you can give them a sermon rather than me.’
Jessie stared up at the ceiling, blinking back tears. Jack and Luke were having fun miles away from her, yet instead of feeling happy for them, she felt left out. And horribly lonely.
‘Mum, Jack’s being a dick and says he won’t help me with my maths homework. Plus, Miss Mathews told me off for talking but I was only asking Simon what we were meant to be doing.’
Luke’s words came flying out in a familiar rush, and her heart ached a little, even as she started to smile. ‘Am I allowed to ask why you needed Simon to tell you what you were doing?’
‘I didn’t hear what Miss said.’
‘Because?’
‘I was talking to Josh.’
Laughter bubbled and love flooded into her heart, banishing her tears. A poignant reminder that this was her real life, and it contained everything she needed. ‘Well maybe you did deserve the telling off after all. And don’t call your brother a dick…’
Chapter Nine
Michael paced his room, torn. The steady, sensible part of him, the one usually in control, told him to take a shower and go to bed. It was exactly what he should do.
So why the hell was he considering knocking on Jessie’s door at nine o’clock at night?
He’d lost his mind.
Or maybe, just maybe, he was fed up with being sensible. And fed up with being lonely. He was thirty-seven, yet he spent most of his evenings either working, or on his own. A few years ago he could have counted on Robert to relieve his boredom, but now his friend was loved up with his new wife and Michael had no desire to spend his evenings as a gooseberry. He’d tried it a few times and ended up feeling even lonelier than before.
Sure he knew a lot of people. His phone was jammed full with telephone numbers – names that would probably make Jessie’s eyes water. A few calls and he could be at a party. Or out to dinner with a glamorous singer/actress.
But he rarely ever made the call. Going out, being sociable, involved an effort he simply didn’t have the energy for.
Yet despite the long day he’d spent with Jessie, and the terminally dull teleconference with Robert and the tour organisers he’d just escaped from, he wasn’t ready to call it a night.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Michael stalked to the telephone by the bed and called reception. ‘Jessie Simmons’ room. Please.’
He could feel the thump of his heart as he waited for the call to be put through.
Christ, what if she was asleep? Was it too late to be calling a woman he hardly knew? Just because they were working together, it didn’t mean they were friends. And because he was the celebrity she’d probably feel obliged to see him if he asked her…
‘Hello?’
He gripped the receiver. ‘Jessie, it’s Michael. I hope I haven’t woken you?’
‘No, no. It’s only nine o’clock. I might be a small-town girl but I can usually make it to ten before I fall asleep.’
Oh crap, had he offended her? Why couldn’t he manage basic small talk? And what the blazes was he going to say now?
Jessie, of course, had none of his crippling ineptitude when it came to conversation. ‘Is everything okay? Anything I can help you with?’
‘Everything’s fine.’ He paused, taking a deep breath. ‘I wondered, do you fancy a drink?’
‘Oh… well, that’s… umm.’
His heart sank like a brick at her flustered reply. He should have gone for the blasted shower. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. My meeting finished early, so now I’m sat in my hotel room not quite tired enough to sleep.’
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