Michael tensed. Not again. He didn’t want to discuss his private life, especially when it all felt so fragile still, and even more especially with the woman who was asking him. ‘I hope so, though what she’ll think to this, I’m not sure.’
‘Must be hard for her, you know, with the boys. Kids can be so sensitive.’
‘Yes.’ What else could he say? Except perhaps please leave?
Her mouth curved as she studied him. ‘You don’t want to talk about this with me, do you?’
He almost laughed. ‘I don’t want to talk about this with anyone.’
‘Oh, okay.’ She flashed him a smile. ‘Do you need someone to accompany you to the awards on Saturday? It’s just if you do, I’d love to go. It’s every girl’s dream to get glammed up and mix with the stars.’
Apparently not Jessie’s, was her clear implication. Sadly it was also the truth.
‘If Jessie doesn’t mind, of course.’
He blinked. ‘Why would she mind?’
‘Well, it must be tough being away from you, wondering what you’re up to while she can’t be with you. I know I wouldn’t like it.’
‘She doesn’t have to wonder. She trusts me and vice versa.’
His annoyance must have come through in his voice because she took a tiny step back. ‘Of course, I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.’ She tucked a wayward strand of her otherwise immaculately straight blonde hair behind her ear. ‘So can I come? It would be an honour to see my boss pick up an award.’
He felt like a dumb sheep, cunningly rounded into its pen by the savvy sheep dog. Say she couldn’t come and it would look like Jessie had him by the balls and didn’t allow him out on his own. ‘Sure, if you want,’ he found himself saying, at the same time praying the words he’d casually tossed out would prove correct, and Jessie really wouldn’t mind.
‘Fabulous. Thank you.’ She leant forward and kissed him on the cheek. A light, friendly gesture except her breasts pressed too closely against his chest and her hand wrapped too familiarly around his bicep.
As he watched her walk out Michael had the uncomfortable feeling she was playing a game and hadn’t told him the rules. He had a grudging admiration for her supreme confidence, though mostly he was scared shitless by it. A shame, in some ways, because his life would be one hell of a lot simpler if he fancied her back.
Instead he was planning a 2,000 mile round trip, all to see an under 12 football match.
He didn’t even like football.
His decision to go and watch hadn’t been made from his head though, but his heart. When Jack had gazed at him with those serious brown eyes, so similar to his mother’s, Michael knew he’d do everything in his power – hire a private plane if necessary – to get there. He’d fallen for their mum, but Jessie’s kids were every bit as adorable as she was.
With a quick glance at the clock, and a mental adjustment for the time difference, Michael picked up his phone and dialled Jessie’s number.
‘Hey.’ Her breathy voice caused his own breath to catch in his throat. ‘This is a surprise. Aren’t you supposed to be rehearsing?’
‘I’ve got about five minutes before I’m invaded by the sound check guys.’
‘Oh.’ She paused and he imagined her on her bed, in the ivory lace number. ‘Is everything okay?’
He cleared his throat. ‘Yes. I’m phoning because I wanted to hear your voice. I also wanted to warn you the article I mentioned has been published, so you may get some fallout. They’ve included a photograph of us singing together at the show. I’ll get Georgina to scan it over to you.’
He heard the sharp rush of her breath. Imagined her shutting her eyes. ‘Thanks for the warning.’
The silence felt cold and he gripped the phone. ‘Jessie—’
‘Relax. I’m not going to get in a stew over it. I promised I’d deal with it and I will.’
‘Okay.’ He felt his shoulders relax, until he considered what her version of deal with it meant. ‘By deal with it, you don’t mean ditch me, do you?’ He was only half joking.
Her laughter soothed his anxiety. ‘Of course not. The boys would never forgive me. They’ve already told the team they’ll have a famous person watching their match.’ She hesitated. ‘You are still coming?’
‘Try and stop me.’ It had been five days since he’d last seen her. Waiting another eight felt like an eternity.
‘I have no intention of stopping you,’ she replied softly.
‘Hell, Jessie, it feels much too far away.’ And even then, he’d have less than twenty-four hours with her. His life had turned into one long countdown. Counting down the days until he could see her again. Counting the hours he was with her until he had to leave.
The door opened and he bit back a sigh. He used to love performing, but recently he’d begun to resent it. Hate it, almost, for keeping him from what he now wanted more. Time with Jessie.
With a heavy heart, he said goodbye to the woman on the phone and went to greet the production team.
Jessie had done as she’d promised Michael, and dealt with the fallout from the article. Dealt was rather a strong word. Yes, a few reporters had contacted her through the The Week of Your Life production team, asking for confirmation of the rumours. She’d responded stating only that she didn’t discuss private matters.
On a local level, several customers had come into the pharmacy on the pretext of buying paracetamol/shampoo/cotton wool, only to then quiz her about whether she really was dating a famous singer. She’d straightened her back, smiled and told them the truth.
And instead of being embarrassed, as she’d feared, she’d felt smug.
She, the local pharmacist who wouldn’t see thirty-five again, was dating a stunningly attractive, world-renowned, singer. She’d done cowering in the corner and worrying she wasn’t good enough/attractive enough.
If Michael was happy to be seen publicly with her, she was damn well going to do him proud.
It was the reason she was now standing on the touchline next to the man in question wearing new skinny jeans and cashmere jumper beneath her puffa jacket. And hair she’d spent the morning meticulously straightening.
‘Run with it!’ she shouted as Jack collected the ball from the goalie and made his way up the field. ‘Luke, find space. He can’t pass to you if you’re surrounded.’
Michael slid her a look, the lips he’d brushed all over her body last night, now twitching. ‘Do they listen to your touchline advice?’
‘Of course.’ She winced as Jack was tackled. ‘Did you see that ref? Foul!’
For the next ten minutes she paced up and down, yelling encouragement, getting immersed in the game as she always did. Michael remained next to her, his body never leaving her side. She knew the other parents were gawping, the mothers giving him overly long glances, and how could she blame them? It wasn’t just his height, or his film star handsome features that made them stare. It was the aura he carried. The private Michael Tennant was considerably less confident, but today it was the public persona on show. This Michael Tennant was polished, sophisticated, classy. Used to being watched.
As the whistle blew for half-time, Michael turned to her and smiled. ‘You can relax for a few minutes, Mum.’
‘Yes, sorry. I forgot to warn you that I do get a bit carried away.’
‘A bit?’ His blue eyes danced with mischief. ‘I’m sure Jack and Luke appreciate your vocal encouragement.’
Groaning, she put her head in her hands. ‘I totally embarrass them. They hate me watching. I forgot to mention that to you, too.’
His rich laughter wrapped around her. ‘It wouldn’t have put me off.’ Gently his hand tugged at her hair. ‘I like the new style, though I have to confess, I prefer the curls.’
Her head shot up and she gaped at him. ‘You do?’
‘Definitely. This is very elegant, but your curls. They’re more you.’
She knew he meant it as a compliment, but still she felt a sting. ‘Are you saying I’m
not elegant?’
‘God no.’ He thrust an agitated hand through his hair. ‘I should know better than to talk about a woman’s hair. It’s just I’ve never come across any like yours. It’s natural, bouncy. Like you.’ This time he groaned. ‘Scratch bouncy. I mean exuberant, full of life and energy.’ He sighed, drawing his hand down his face. ‘Look, I love how unaffected you are, how genuine. That’s all I’m trying to say.’
Her ego well and truly polished, she reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘Thank you. And I love how you’re this famous, hugely talented singer the women here can’t take their eyes off, yet you get flustered paying me a compliment.’
He let out a short laugh. ‘Thank heaven for that.’
A few moments later Annabel and Phil, who, after the initial greetings had been careful to give them space, wandered over to them. ‘As if it wasn’t bad enough having to stand on a windy field, you also have to listen to Jessie yelling in your ear.’ Annabel glanced up at Michael. ‘Bet you’re glad you came now, huh?’
Michael blinked, and Jessie realised he was trying to work out if Annabel was joking or not. ‘I confess I don’t know much about football, so I’m immensely grateful for Jessie’s erudite commentary.’
Annabel roared with laughter. ‘You and I will get on famously, Mr Tennant. I hope the stares you’ve been getting all afternoon won’t put you off coming to visit us again.’
Michael smiled, though Jessie could see it was strained. ‘It’s not me who’s worried about people staring.’
Before Jessie could reassure him she wasn’t going to be spooked, the whistle sounded for the second half.
It was as frenzied as the first, but also as goalless. That was until a minute from the end when Luke poked the ball into Jack’s path. And Jack only went and scored.
Jessie leapt into the air, screaming. Automatically her eyes found Phil’s and they shared a connection that divorce hadn’t diminished. It was one of friendship, of a shared past. Of mutual love for the children they’d produced. He strode over and they hugged, laughing like crazy. When Jessie broke free she turned to find Michael watching her, his expression unreadable.
But when she smiled, he smiled back and nodded over to where Luke and Jack were high fiving each other as the referee blew the final whistle. ‘Proud moment.’
‘Yes.’ Her voice was breathy with emotion and excitement. ‘I feel like crying but I’m not sure why because I’m so damn happy.’
With great tenderness, uncaring of anyone watching, he kissed her on the lips. ‘I’d rather you smiled.’
‘Yes.’ She nodded, though the lump in her throat felt like a tennis ball. To have her sons conjure up the winning goal, with everyone she loved most in the world by her side, was almost overwhelming.
The moment was broken as Jack and Luke barrelled towards them. Laughing now, the emotion still in her throat, she bent to hug their muddy, sweaty bodies.
Stuff the cashmere jumper.
John followed behind them, his face sporting a massive grin. ‘Your boys did us proud, Jess.’
Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Michael stiffen.
‘I think you’ll find it’s me who did you proud,’ she told John jokingly, ruffling Luke’s hair. ‘Clearly my touchline instructions were what made the difference.’
Everyone fell about laughing and when she glanced over at Michael she noticed he was smiling, too.
‘You’re embarrassing, Mum.’ Luke gave her a little shove. ‘Lucky we learnt to ignore you years ago.’
Phil bellowed with laughter and hoisted Luke up in the air, making him squeal. ‘That’s my boy.’ Suddenly they all began to talk over each other, reliving the goal, working out how they were going to celebrate the win.
Jessie didn’t notice Michael take a step back, hands in his pockets. Eyes staring into the distance.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Michael knew all about being on the outside, looking in; he’d experienced it often enough. Right now he felt so out of place, he wondered if he should just quietly disappear and call a cab.
Would Jessie even miss him if he did?
With a grunt of frustration, he shoved his hands further into his pockets and hunched up against the wind. Barcelona, at least, would be warm.
He dragged his eyes back to the group. Annabel and her sons had joined them now, threading her hand through Phil’s arm, which at least dampened Michael’s jealousy a little. When he’d watched Jessie and Phil hug after Jack’s goal… Christ, even now, the memory caused his gut to contort. Yet he had no right to feel like that because Phil was the boys’ father. It was natural she’d turn to him in that moment.
By God he wished it had been his arms she’d leapt into, though. His face she’d squealed at, eyes alight with joy. It made him acutely aware that while he’d told her he loved her, she’d never said the same. She missed him, liked him enough to come and see him; to welcome him into her home. But was she as deeply invested in this relationship as he was?
His gaze flicked over to John; Jessie’s boss who conveniently also ran the boys’ football club. Shorter than he was, Michael noted with satisfaction, but with an athletic build and the type of good looking, open, kind face women were attracted to. The type Jessie must also be attracted to, because John was like a dark-haired version of Phil. And though Phil seemed to be besotted with Annabel now, it was clear John wanted far more from Jessie than the just good friends label she’d given them.
And didn’t they make a perfect foursome? Two best friends, an ex-husband Jessie still cared deeply for and the football team coach who the kids thought walked on water.
Feeling twitchy, his hands balled into fists, Michael started to pace. As he turned back he almost fell over Jack. ‘Hey there.’ He removed his hand from his pocket, ready to – hell, who knew? Clap him on the shoulders? High five him? Shake his hand, even though the last few times he’d done that the boys had looked confused? Damn it, he still didn’t know what the correct procedure was to greet the son of the woman he was dating. Awkwardly Michael let his hand fall by his side. ‘Congratulations,’ he said, his voice sounding horribly stiff compared to the easy way Phil and John had been chatting to him. ‘Great goal. Both the timing and, well, the execution.’ As if he knew a damn thing about scoring goals.
Red bloomed across Jack’s mud splattered cheeks. ‘Thanks.’ He scuffed his boot in the ground. ‘And, err, thanks for coming.’
‘Did you really come all the way from Spain just to watch us?’ Luke appeared next to Jack, looking equally muddy, his hair sticking up at odd angles.
Technically he’d come to see Jessie too, but Michael wasn’t going to turn down a chance for a brownie point with her sons. ‘I guess I did, yes. Just a shame I have to dash off again so soon.’
‘Back to Spain?’
He nodded. ‘That’s right. I came from Madrid, but now I’m flying to Barcelona.’
‘’Cos you’re singing there tonight?’
‘No. I have a…’ He hesitated. ‘I have a function to attend. I’m singing there tomorrow.’
‘Can we come?’
Luke beamed up at him and some of the angst he’d been feeling started to slip away. ‘That would be great but I’m guessing you have school to go to on Monday.’
Luke pouted. ‘Yeah. School sucks.’
He felt a dainty but rather cold hand wrap round his and turned to find Jessie smiling up at him, her eyes that lovely soft hazel colour. ‘Sorry to interrupt but these two boys need to head to the showers.’
As Jack and Luke dashed off, Jessie squeezed his hand. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Because I watched you slowly withdrawing while we all talked. I thought you might be feeling out of place.’
She knew him too well, it seemed. ‘I was, a little. But Jack and Luke rescued me.’
The hand that wasn’t holding his, cupped his face. ‘You have no idea how many bragging rights they’ve gained from you being here.�
� Shaking her head, she let out a little laugh. ‘There was me, worrying about how they’d react to being drawn into your limelight. Seems they’re thriving on it.’
Reaching up he covered her hand with his, moving it towards his mouth so he could kiss her palm. ‘And you?’
She gave him a small smile. ‘If they’re happy, I’m happy.’
Their eyes held and for a few glorious moments it was him and Jessie, her hair fluttering in the wind, her expression soft and warm. He started to move towards her, desperate for another taste of those lush lips.
‘Jess.’
John’s voice crashed into their moment and Jessie, consciously or unconsciously, took a step back. The action stung, as if she was embarrassed to be seen having an intimate moment with him.
‘We’re meeting in the clubhouse around five for a small celebration. See you there?’
Michael was aware of John’s gaze falling on him, and he swore he could read the man’s thoughts. Will you be bringing that poncy singer or do I get a chance with you on your own?
Jessie nodded. ‘Great, thanks. We’ll be there. Not Michael though.’
Michael waited for her to elaborate. For once in his life he wanted someone to big him up. I’m afraid Michael has to catch a flight to Barcelona because he has to pick up an award for best classical singer.
She said none of that though. It shouldn’t have annoyed him, but it did.
‘Do you like to be called Jess?’
And yes, his tone was sharper than it should have been.
A frown appeared beneath her fringe, which he was pleased to note was starting to curl again. ‘I don’t mind it, but usually I’m Jessie.’
‘Except when it comes to John.’
Jessie stared back at Michael, wondering why he seemed so angry. ‘No, not just John. Many people over the years have shortened my name. It’s not something I’m particularly fussy about.’
‘What if I chose to shorten it?’
His expression was taut, his eyes guarded and Jessie slowly began to understand. ‘I would be happy for you to call me Jess.’ She reached up to give him the kiss John had interrupted. While she didn’t mind her friends seeing her kiss in public, she drew the line at that sort of thing in front of her boss. Sure, John was also a friend, but she was always aware of the need to retain at least a touch of professionalism when he was around. ‘For the record, I’d be happy for you to call me anything… well maybe not mop head. But other than that, you can call me whatever you want, though I happen to like my real name.’
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