‘I’d rather you chose laughter.’ His thumb had dropped to her mouth, rubbing gently across her lips. ‘When I think of you, I picture you laughing.’
A lump settled in her throat and she wanted to beg him to stop being nice. How she could do with a dose of the cold, hard Michael she’d first met.
His eyes searched her face and he looked like he was going to say something, but then shook his head. Finally he took a step back and picked up the bowl. ‘Chip?’
Grateful for the reduction in intensity, she smiled and took one.
While they ate they talked a little about what would happen tomorrow. When the bowl was empty, the bottle drunk, Jessie stood. ‘I’d better get going. Big day tomorrow.’
Michael nodded and followed her into the room, watching while she gathered her discarded dress and the white lace underwear she was so glad Annabel had made her buy. ‘I’ll just, umm…’ She gestured awkwardly at the crumpled clothes in her hands. ‘Get dressed.’
Feeling self-conscious, she dived into the bathroom. It was hard to believe that only an hour ago she’d lain naked next to this man.
Yet tomorrow it would be over.
Fighting back her tears she stepped back into the room. Michael had dressed too and was staring out of the window, hands in his pockets, his back to her. The way he seemed to have withdrawn again added to her misery.
But you’ll be going home to Jack and Luke.
The knowledge made her feel even more terrible. What sort of mother was she that she couldn’t just be excited to see her sons? That instead she was already pining for something that could never be?
She cleared her throat and he turned round. Immediately her heart lurched at the sight of his naked chest, framed by the unbuttoned shirt. With his messy hair, bare feet and brooding eyes he looked so sexy, so much the heartthrob singer. He stole her breath away.
‘Right then.’ The catch in her voice echoed back at her across the silent room. Why wasn’t he saying anything? ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
For a moment she thought that was it. He was just going to stand there and watch her walk out. But then he seemed to gather himself and stride over. Cupping her face, his lips touched hers in the softest of kisses. ‘Sweet dreams.’
As she dashed back to her room Jessie knew her dreams wouldn’t be sweet. But they would be filled with him.
Chapter Thirteen
At five to eight, Michael heard a knock on his door and opened it to find Robert. His friend gave him one long, searching look.
‘Jesus, you look like shit. Must have been one heck of a night, Mikey boy.’
Michael didn’t reply. The last thing he needed right now was Robert’s particular brand of humour. Or a barrage of searching questions.
Robert walked to the coffee table and eyed up the Danish pastries that room service had just delivered. ‘So?’
‘So what?’
Robert dumped two calorie laden pastries on his plate. ‘If you’re being evasive, there’s definitely a tale to tell.’
‘I’m not being evasive.’ He couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice, which of course Robert picked up on.
‘Bloody hell, you and the pretty pharmacist got it together, didn’t you?’
Michael bristled. ‘Not that it’s anybody’s business, but why the surprise if we did?’
Robert started to chuckle as he plonked himself down on the sofa, stretching out his jean clad legs and looking perfectly at home. ‘Well, well. I could sense something there, but I didn’t think you’d have the balls to act on it.’
‘I have dated women,’ Michael felt compelled to point out. ‘I’m not a total recluse.’
‘True, but you’ve never asked a real woman out.’ He stuck up his hand before Michael could interrupt. ‘You’ve dated easy targets. Women who’ve chased you, looking for a brief affair.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Jessie doesn’t strike me as the type who sleeps with a man easily.’
Michael felt a sting of shame. Robert had just confirmed what he already knew, because Jessie herself had told him when she’d admitted he was the first person she’d slept with since her divorce. She wasn’t a woman who had a one-night stand, yet last night he’d treated her exactly like that. He’d had sex with her twice, yet hadn’t even had the decency to wine and dine her properly. Worse, despite seeing how awkward she’d felt, he’d just stood there and watched her slink out of his room, like some groupie. And all because he’d been too much of a coward to ask her to stay.
Not since Paula had he wanted a woman to sleep in his bed with him. Yet in that moment, seeing Jessie standing there in her crumpled red dress, hair askew and make-up smudged by his kisses, he’d wanted her to stay so much, he’d frozen. Paralysed by fear for what he’d been feeling.
After that, he’d not been able to sleep. All he could think was how he’d taken a gorgeous, bubbly, warm-hearted woman to bed – and ended up treating her like a tart.
‘Can’t help but wonder what you’re planning to do with Jessie now.’ Robert was studying him, his expression unusually pensive. ‘It’s not like you to play with a woman’s feelings like this.’
Michael’s hand tightened round his coffee cup. ‘I’m not playing with her. She knows I’m going on tour. Besides, she has a family and a life back at home. It was just a bit of fun.’
Robert’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Now I know you’re lying to me. You don’t do anything for fun.’
‘Damn it.’ Michael shoved his empty cup onto the table and lurched forward, dropping his head in his hands. What the hell had he been thinking? After their explosive kiss the night before last, he’d known exactly where dinner would lead and yet he’d asked her anyway. Clearly his thinking hadn’t been done with his brain.
‘You like her, don’t you?’
Michael looked up and straight into Robert’s unusually serious eyes. ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘But as my life isn’t going to be my own for the next eight months, thanks to this damn tour you’re sending me on, it hardly matters, does it?’ He rubbed at his forehead, trying to ease out the tension of a crap night’s sleep and this painful conversation.
Robert finished off the last mouthful of his second pastry and wiped his hands on his jeans. ‘Eight months isn’t an eternity,’ he said finally. ‘And technology has advanced so much these days you can actually communicate with someone in another country.’
Michael threw a napkin at him. ‘Shut up. And use that instead of your trousers, you lazy bastard.’
Robert grinned. ‘If you ever wore jeans you’d understand part of their purpose is to get them dirty.’ He took one look at Michael’s expression and held up his hand. ‘Okay, okay, I guess you’ve had enough of my badgering for one day. One last question though, before your delightful PA arrives. Now you’ve almost made it through the week, was appearing on this show a good idea, or a bad idea?’
Michael sighed, slamming his eyes shut as he allowed his head to fall back against the sofa. Snapshots from the week flashed through his mind, all of them featuring Jessie. That first day, when she’d nearly walked out. Sharing the pizza. Watching as she resolutely looked everywhere but at him when she sang.
Watching her as she sang into his eyes.
His heart shifted and unconsciously he rubbed at his chest. ‘I don’t know,’ he replied honestly. But he did know he had to tread carefully today, for both their sakes.
He was saved any further interrogation from Robert by a further knock on the door. And the arrival of Georgina.
The smile she gave him was far too bright for the time of day. For that matter so was her vivid pink top, unbuttoned to show the hint of a cleavage. He felt Robert’s eyes on him as he averted his gaze. For the life of him he still couldn’t work out whether this was just Georgina, or whether Robert was right and she was dressing to impress him.
Her smile faltered a little as she noticed Robert. ‘Oh, sorry. Am I late?’
‘No. Robert was early.’
From his seat on the sof
a, Robert flashed her a grin. ‘I wanted first dibs on the pastries, before you came in and polished the lot off.’
Georgina frowned, and Michael had to bite his cheek to stop from laughing. He shouldn’t enjoy watching his friend take the piss out of his PA, but it felt so good to see Robert pushing someone else’s buttons for a change.
Jessie was at the studio half an hour earlier than Michael had suggested for their final warm-up before the full rehearsals that afternoon.
She sat in their room – oh God. She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing she couldn’t think like that. She sat in the room they’d used all week, casting her eyes over the music sheet even though it was just a blur to her right now. With a huff of frustration she thrust it down and looked at her phone instead.
Her lips curved as she saw the texts from Luke and Jack.
Luke: Dad says we have to look smart. Tell him he’s wrong. I don’t want to wear a dumb shirt with a collar.
Jake: All my mates are going to be watching tonight. Please don’t be rubbish.
Drawing in a breath, she held the phone close to her chest. This was her reality, and it was worth more than a hundred flings with a handsome singing star.
The final text was less grounding. In fact, it was a terrifying reminder that she wasn’t just putting her singing voice into the limelight tonight. She was, ever so briefly, thrusting herself into it.
Annabel: The gossip rags have a picture of you and Michael coming back from a meal, and lots of speculation. This is a good luck text but also a what on earth is happening?!?
She was so immersed in typing her replies that she didn’t hear Michael enter.
It was his cologne she smelt first, the expensive fragrance hitting her smack in the middle of her chest. As her heart lurched painfully, she turned to find him standing in the doorway, his stunning eyes watching her with an intensity she’d not seen before.
‘Hi.’ His eyes drifted to her phone. ‘Good luck texts?’
‘Something like that.’
He nodded, moving inside and taking off his dark navy suit jacket. Always so smart. So exactly like his stage image, from the outside.
Inside though, far less confident. One of many things she’d learnt this week.
‘I hope you managed to get some sleep?’
She lied, nodding her head. The dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn’t faired much better. Was he that worried she’d embarrass him today?
He rolled up the cuffs of his neatly-ironed white shirt and her gaze automatically dropped to his tanned forearms. Stop gawping at him.
‘What do you want to do this morning?’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We have perhaps two hours before we need to go to the rehearsal.’
I want you to kiss me. She bit into her lip, tearing her eyes away from him. She sensed he was being deliberately distant to remind her last night had been – in his words – a way to celebrate the week. Nothing more.
She had to show him she was perfectly fine with that.
Slipping her phone back into her bag she rose to her feet. ‘Let’s warm-up for a bit and go through the song a couple more times to make sure I haven’t forgotten it. Phil and the boys are arriving this afternoon which probably kills any further chance to practice.’
Perhaps her smile looked too bright because he gave her an odd look before stalking over to the piano.
Their on-stage rehearsal was terrifying. Not just the hot lights, the intrusive cameras or the stares of the studio staff. It was also the first chance she’d had to hear the other contestants sing.
‘They’re miles better than me.’
Michael, who was standing tall and straight to her right, squeezed her arm – the first affectionate gesture he’d made all morning. ‘You’re being pessimistic.’
‘Realistic.’
As the director finally announced it was their turn, her stomach lurched. And this was only the rehearsal.
Michael surprised her by taking her hand as he led her onto the stage. It didn’t matter how many times he told her to relax though. How many times he smiled kindly into her eyes before they were told to begin.
She felt terrible, and predictably she performed terribly, too.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Tears welled at the back of her eyes but she was determined not to cry. Her performance alone was embarrassment enough.
‘Don’t be.’ His hand, warm and comforting, continued to hold hers even after they’d stepped off the stage. ‘Now the others have mentally crossed you off their list of competition.’ He gently squeezed her fingers. ‘Stupid mistake. Always beware the underdog.’
Over the next ten minutes the director summoned the contestants into a huddle and went through the sequence of events for the following few hours. Although she tried to listen her brain had switched into panic mode and all she really heard was they’d have to be ready to start, with their make-up done, at six o’clock.
As the briefing wound up, Michael bent to whisper in her ear. ‘I’ve had a text from Georgina and I need to disappear for a bit. Try not to think yourself into a panic attack by the time I get back.’
And just like that her anchor, the man she was relying on to get her through the next few hours, disappeared.
She went to sit on one of the seats in the audience, casting her eyes around the studio. It wasn’t huge, not like the places someone like Michael must be used to appearing in. There would be hundreds, rather than thousands watching. But she’d never done anything like this before; wasn’t used to performing, never mind singing. And if she then thought about how many people might be watching her make a total twit of herself on the television – her stomach clenched and she broke out in a cold sweat. The thought of going back on that stage in a few hours was frigging terrifying.
The sound of her phone bleeping shot her out of her panic. Phil and the boys had arrived.
Gratefully she made her way to the reception area.
Ten minutes, lots of chatter and two very special hugs later – Jack and Luke must have missed her because hugs were a rare commodity, usually only dispensed in private – she was sitting with Phil and the boys in the studio canteen.
‘How are you feeling?’
Dressed in scruffy jeans and a T-shirt that had been white once but washed too many times, his sandy hair flopping onto his forehead and nearly obscuring his kind blue eyes, Phil looked so familiar she felt a rush of affection. ‘Bloody terrified,’ she answered on a half laugh, half sob.
‘You’re not meant to swear,’ said Luke with a glint in his eye.
‘If you’re about to make a fool of yourself on live TV, you’re probably allowed to swear at least once.’
Jake slurped at his drink. ‘Do we get to meet that Tennant guy?’
Her heart gave a little jump. ‘I think so. He’s disappeared for a bit, but he should be back.’
‘You’d better hope he’ll be back, or you’ll be singing up there by yourself.’ Phil grinned. ‘I’m not sure the world is ready for that.’
She jabbed him sharply in the ribs, making him squeal and the boys laugh.
Just as she was beginning to relax a little, she caught sight of a tall, smartly-dressed man coming towards them. Her heart gave a giant thump as she waved Michael over.
Feeling ridiculously nervous, she made the introductions. Michael shook hands stiffly with Phil, giving him the same detached smile he’d first given her. Had it only been six days ago? Then he held out his hand to the boys, who didn’t know how to react. Why would they, when they’d never had anyone make such a formal gesture to them before?
Did Michael know nothing about kids?
Jack and Luke gawped at Michael’s hand for several painful moments before copying what their father had done. In the awkward silence that followed, Jessie found she was too wound up, too fretful over the whole evening, to think of a way to fill it.
Michael cleared his throat. ‘Are you looking forward to hearing your mum sing?’
Jack shook his head but remained
silent and Jessie squirmed on her seat. Oh God, this was awful.
At last Luke, the chatterbox, found his voice. ‘I’m not. We’ve heard her enough already.’
Well, at least he’d spoken. And really, it was quite funny, only Phil and Jack seemed frozen to the spot and Michael wasn’t laughing.
Another painful silence followed before Michael spoke again, his voice as strained as the expression on his face. ‘You haven’t heard the improved version.’
She waited for her family to come up with a sarky reply but now even Luke wasn’t saying anything.
‘Your mum’s worked really hard.’ Michael looked like he’d rather be anywhere but with them right now. ‘I’m sure you’ll be proud of her when it’s all over.’
Jessie knew Michael was trying to help, but building her up like that was the last thing she needed. What she actually needed was for him to loosen up. Be the man she’d come to know.
‘I hope so, ’cos the whole school is going to be watching,’ Luke mumbled.
Finally Phil spoke. ‘Well you can’t blame your mum for that. You’re one of the bright sparks who put her in for it.’
‘Yeah but only ’cos she had a mega crush on him.’
The moment the words tumbled out of Luke’s mouth, Michael’s shocked eyes slammed into hers. Jessie felt a violent blush sting her cheeks and wanted to crawl into a dark hole and not come out for the rest of the day. Longer. At least enough time for Michael to be on the other side of the Atlantic.
Michael shuffled his feet. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it.’ He nodded stiffly over to her. ‘I’ll see you in make-up.’
As his long legs took him away, Jessie slid down on the chair. Beside her, Phil started to laugh. ‘I hope his performance on stage is better than it is off.’
Reach for a Star Page 11