She's the One

by Teresa F. Morgan

  Since her mum had died she had no one else but herself, so she’d toughened herself up and didn’t take shit – this part she stuck to particularly after a few failed relationships with lousy boyfriends.

  She watched as Steve turned over the menu, looking at the choices, utterly relaxed. He appeared down to earth and laid back, like he’d been as a teenager, so maybe Hollywood hadn’t ruined him yet.

  Steve looked up, catching her staring. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Ruby said, smiling. “Can’t believe you’re really here, that’s all.”

  The waitress approached the table and took their order, placing two glasses of iced water down that they’d ordered when first seated. Steve had probably been a bit Hollywood Diva-ish insisting on the slice of lemon. At least he hadn’t insisted on it being sparkling. This kind of café served water from the tap unless you were willing to pay for a bottle. Ruby felt strongly that there was nothing wrong with tap water, so why buy it? Even in the restaurant at the hotel she insisted on jugs of water being made available at the table. Admittedly, they did have ice and lemon too.

  Once the waitress left, Steve sipped his water, then sighed with a frown, and said quietly, “Sometimes, Ruby, I think there is a price to pay for fame. It’s called loneliness.”

  “Wow, you have got it bad,” Ruby said, tucking the menu back into its holder to tidy the table.

  “I’m happy, don’t get me wrong. My dream came true and I’ve found success.”

  “But?”

  “I’m not where I thought I’d be with life. You know… kids, family, a wife.”

  “Maybe you can’t have both.”

  “I want to say nonsense, but now money and fame has arrived, maybe it’s true.”

  Steve’s success had started slowly, with minor character roles in television programmes, bigger parts started coming his way. Heavens, Mum and Ruby hadn’t realised how famous he would get. Their mum had died before the release of Perfection, and the interviews on chat shows and in glossy magazines had intensified. Ruby was reminded of him very often, though eventually she’d stopped watching or reading, because she didn’t like what she read. It impaired the memory she had of her big brother, her hero.

  As Steve had become more successful, Ruby remembered Mum had wanted the family to stay out of the limelight. At the time, Ruby hadn’t realised why. At the grand age of twelve, she’d boasted to school friends about her big brother going off to Hollywood to become an actor, and as he’d got small parts, usually in adverts, she’d shared the news. Good job that was before Facebook and Twitter. Those days, as a proud teenager, she wanted to stand in Cribbs Causeway with a megaphone, telling everyone who her brother was because she’d been so thrilled for him, but as Steve was finding now, she’d learnt people weren’t always true to you. They could have a hidden agenda.

  Fortunately, she’d lost touch with most of her school friends now – she wasn’t a major fan of social media, not after Terry – so no one would know about Steve. Nowadays she didn’t tell people she was the sister of the Steve Mason – she’d learnt the hard way. The people she worked with certainly weren’t aware. As Steve understood, it was hard to trust people if they knew you were related to someone rich and famous. Were they hanging around because they liked you, or wanted to meet your brother?

  She’d had her fingers burnt good and proper only two years ago in the early years of Steve’s fame. He knew nothing about it and she wanted to keep it that way. Bitterness still lingered in her heart over that sordid affair – how naïve she’d been. It grated on her to this day, the memory of her stupidity. She wouldn’t fall for it again.

  Now, regretfully, she also carried a smidge of jealousy. He’d been able to follow his dream. Ruby had not – not that she truly knew what she wanted to do. When she’d felt ready to start her own adventure, Mum had got ill.

  And now they were together, changing Steve’s image, trying to make him fit in, so he might stand a chance of finding someone to love. Maybe there was nothing to be jealous about?

  “So what type of girl are you looking for?”

  “I don’t know.” Steve shrugged, leaning on the table. “Someone I can take to a restaurant who doesn’t have to order salad so she can stay a size zero.” Steve quickly held up his hands defensively as Ruby stared, reproachful. “Sorry, I don’t mean it like that. Don’t get me wrong, I know that actresses work hard and it’s a major pressure for them. I have that pressure too, but nowhere near the same level. I suppose, what I’m trying to say is, I want to find someone who doesn’t have to worry about appearing ‘perfect’.”

  “Okay, fair point.” Ruby nodded. Strict diets and no chocolate for life were not her idea of fun, she thought as she eyed the scrumptious chocolate fudge cake at the counter. And the size of the door-stop sandwiches heading towards them were not for the strict dieters either. Imagine the carbs.

  The waitress placed the sandwiches in front of them, with salad and a pile of crisps on the side.

  Steve smiled his thanks at her, then when she’d gone continued the conversation with Ruby, “I want a woman I can laugh with, too. A good hearty giggle. About silly stuff.”

  “A woman with curves, and a good sense of humour,” Ruby said aloud, as well as making mental notes.

  “Of course.”

  “How fussy are you? Does she have to be pretty? Because you’re not going to find that many gorgeous girls to sweep you off your feet in Bristol,” Ruby joked. “Yes, there are plenty of attractive women, but we can’t all afford to have impeccable beauty treatments.”

  Steve shook his head. “I know. There are immaculately groomed women lining the streets of LA but none are suitable.” He sighed. “There has to be an attraction, obviously, but I want someone I can…love, and who’ll love me. And maybe start a family.”

  “Can’t make you any promises, Bro, but we’ll try. When there is a time limit, too, it makes things trickier.”

  “I know.”

  “There’s no guarantee this will work.”

  “It had better work! You made me cut my hair, ditch my designer clothes, and made me wear glasses,” he said, narrowing his eyes. The corners of his mouth curved to a smile and Ruby chuckled.

  God, she hoped this worked.

  ***

  “I’ll be home soon,” Ruby said to him, keeping the car running, as he unloaded bags from the trunk – Ruby had corrected him with ‘boot’. “I want to pop into work to see what I can sort out.”

  Steve, feeling weary from traipsing around the shops, but happy about the time spent with Ruby, carried the shopping bags upstairs. There was little point emptying his case now; he hung up his newly bought wardrobe instead. Ruby wouldn’t allow him to wear his old clothes, anyway.

  Considering Steve hadn’t seen Ruby since their mother’s funeral, over a year ago, he was pleased they were getting along. At the funeral, he would have liked to have stayed for longer, but his work schedule had been tight, and he’d had to leave Ruby to grieve on her own. Thankfully, the press had stayed away and honoured his family’s privacy.

  He’d grieved on his own. Maybe that’s why he’d fallen so hard for Erica, his emotions so bare and raw. Neither Steve nor Ruby had really mentioned their mum today. Maybe they were too scared to bring to the surface the emotions it might evoke. Fifteen years had put distance between Steve and his family, yet he would never forget his mother. She’d been the one insisting he followed his dream, supporting him through thick and thin. Unfortunately, when the time came and he could truly repay her, she was gone.

  So he would do all that he could to help Ruby.

  He raked his hands over his face, then headed back down to the kitchen. He stared into one of the overhead cupboards and spied, sitting on the top shelf at the back, a cafetière gathering dust. Unfortunately, after checking the rest of the cupboards, he couldn’t find any ground coffee. He could take a quick trip down to the shop, he’d seen one on the corner. It wouldn’t harm.

  He grabbe
d the key and strolled down the hill. Ten minutes later, he was meandering around the shop with a basket, picking up essentials, which included a bag of ground coffee. He preferred to buy fresh beans and grind his own coffee, for ultimate taste, however he wasn’t sure whether Ruby had a grinder or not. Trawling the aisles had a certain normality to it that Steve hadn’t enjoyed in a while. Usually someone did this stuff for him, delivered his groceries – he had a team of people doing his day to day tasks. He hated the word, but yes, he had an entourage. But today, going around this small shop didn’t feel menial. It felt great, liberating.

  Freedom.

  Like the good old days.

  Near the checkout stood the newsstand. Anxiety slowly crept up his back, but deciding it was best to keep up with the news, he selected a couple of newspapers and a glossy magazine that followed the ins and outs of A-listers. He’d need to keep an eye on this. One whiff that he was near Bristol and he’d need to tell Marie to make sure his double was seen holidaying somewhere hot and far away from here.

  The middle-aged woman in her smart, blue uniform didn’t bat an eyelid, too busy scanning the items in his basket and shoving them into a carrier bag. She only looked him in the eye when she asked for his money. Maybe she didn’t follow the world’s top ten sexiest men – Steve was voted tenth last month. But it was a good thing she didn’t, Steve quickly remembered, irritated that he’d felt a moment of disappointment that she hadn’t recognised him. When had he got so cocky? Confidence was more attractive than cockiness.

  He didn’t want to get recognised. It would give him more chance of finding someone.

  Steve strolled towards Ruby’s house, her car still not on the driveway. Her neighbour’s front door opened and an elderly lady slowly emerged, smartly dressed as though off to church. She wore a hearing aid over one ear and used a wooden stick.

  “Oh, hello,” she said, cheerfully beaming at Steve. “Has our Ruby got herself a young man at last?”

  Steve laughed and shook his head, approaching the woman. “No, no, I’m her brother.” He put his shopping down and held out his palm to shake hands with the woman.

  “Ruby never said she had a brother. Well, well, what a handsome young man.” The woman took his hand with her frail fingers and patted it, rather than shake it. “It’s good she’s got company. I’m Daphne. I’ll see you again then?”

  “Yes, I’m staying for a while.” Steve hesitated, unsure whether to give his own name or not. They hadn’t agreed on an identity. A name. He’d probably have to use a different one.

  Daphne wandered off down the road, very slowly, and Steve let himself into the house. He flicked the kettle switch again, and it wasn’t long before he was sitting at the dining room table with a decent mug of coffee, thumbing through the papers.

  No mentions of him being anywhere near Bristol. Though, to be honest, today must be a good day. There were no mentions of him at all. This was British press though. He’d check with Marie what the Americans were saying, too.

  ***

  Ruby had entered the hotel by the back doors and headed straight towards her office. She thought this would minimise her chances of being seen as she didn’t wish to be in the hotel any longer than necessary. Her days off were precious at the best of times. She worked all hours God sent at times in this place. She loved it, but she also needed a break from it too, and with Steve home, she wanted to spend time with him.

  “Ruby, have you got a minute?”

  With her face hidden behind her monitor looking at the staff roster, she grimaced and cursed to herself. Too good to be true. Sometimes her open door policy was a pain in the arse. She looked round and smiled, knowing damn well it looked fake, “What is it, Alice?”

  Alice stood nervously in the doorway holding a piece of paper. She wore a sleek black spa uniform with a mandarin collar. Her chestnut hair was pinned into a neat bun, with a couple of spiralling tendrils down the side of her perfectly made up face.

  “Pete hasn’t approved the order I put through. I need some more supplies for the spa. I’m running low. I can’t massage without oil.”

  Pete was Ruby’s assistant manager, and not particularly good at his job. Ruby hadn’t hired him. She hired most of the staff, but he’d been transferred from another hotel in the chain. She wondered if he’d been so shit at his job they’d decided to sweep him under the carpet by sending him to a smaller hotel where he could do less damage. Only it meant more work for Ruby.

  “Alice, we have budgets. You’re going to have to manage your stock better. Look, can we discuss this tomorrow. I’ll take a proper look at it then – I’m on my day—”

  “But I need this stuff!”

  “It can wait until tomorrow,” Ruby said, sternly. Lydia appeared at the door. “What now?” Ruby cringed. That was louder and sharper than intended.

  “A customer was asking to see the manager,” Lydia said, entering the office. “I was looking for Pete, but I can’t find him. I thought I’d try your office but I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

  “I’m not supposed to be.”

  “Are you catching up with your brother today?”

  “Yeah.…” Ruby said warily. “How do you know?”

  “Oh, gosh, totally forgot, I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but he called yesterday from the airport.”

  “Did he?”

  “Airport, huh?” Alice chimed in, nudging Lydia. “Did he sound hot?” Lydia blushed as Alice asked Ruby eagerly, “What’s he like? You never said you had a brother. Will we get an introduction? Where’s he been?”

  God, where had he been? Steve and Ruby would need to organise a cover story.

  “He’s been away.” How lame does that sound? She should have said working abroad, but daren’t stumble too much over it now. “Erm, so, I need to get on. Alice, we’ll talk budgets and orders tomorrow.”

  “Um, while you’re here, did you want to see this customer?” Lydia asked, grimacing.

  “Not particularly. Are they complaining?” Ruby closed down her computer and shoved some papers back into the top drawer of her desk – harder than intended, the contents slamming to the back.

  “No, I don’t think so. They didn’t seem to be in a bad mood,” Lydia said.

  “Right, well, get Pete to deal with it. If they start moaning get Callum to give them a complimentary drink, or something. It’s my day off and unless it’s urgent, I’m leaving. Tell Pete I’ll be in early in the morning.”

  Lydia nodded and Alice opened her mouth, about to wave her order form at Ruby, but Ruby didn’t give her a chance, she grabbed her handbag, and darted out of there.

  Usually she gave the hotel one hundred and ten percent of her attention. But not today. She didn’t know how much time she had with Steve, so she needed to make the most of it.

  ***

  As Ruby entered the house, the atmosphere changed. The door slammed, she huffed and puffed.

  “I am so pissed off,” she said, removing her shoes and dumping her handbag on the couch. Steve chose to remain silent. He’d learnt a long time ago to let someone rant when they needed to. “I got cornered by a member of staff. What part of ‘it’s my day off’ do they not understand?”

  Steve made Ruby a fresh coffee in the cafetière, and put it in front of her.

  They definitely needed a coffee machine – it would have been ready and waiting in the carafe to be poured. He lived, breathed, survived only because of his coffee machine. Sitting at the table, Ruby muttered language that truly shocked him, drumming her fingers along the wood. Yes, he heard curses a lot, but not from the mouth of his dear, sweet, baby sister. She used to shout, “oh, poo,” when angered, not every expletive under the sun.

  “Who’s Pete?” With Ruby’s face looking like thunder, Steve would hate to be him.

  “My assistant manager and he’s a total waste of space. Probably why Lydia couldn’t find him. Skiving off chatting up a waitress, knowing him. There have been rumours he takes naps in a room if it’s
available.”

  Steve chuckled. “Ruby, can you give me a job?”

  She screwed up her face. “Do you really want a job?”

  “How else am I going to meet people? I can’t stay cooped up here. I can’t just wander around Cribbs Causeway.”

  “There is Cabot Circus.”

  “What?” Steve frowned.

  “It’s another shopping centre, but never mind.” Ruby shook her head, gesturing for Steve to continue.

  “I need to make some friends, get out and socialise, and work is the best way. Isn’t it?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” She rested her head in her hands, slumping onto the table. “I can’t pay you – as I said, there’s just no budget right now. You’ll just have to keep it quiet that you’re not actually on the payroll. It’s a bit dodgy, but I don’t think anyone will question it.”

  “I don’t need the money. I want an excuse to get up every morning, that’s all. Lead a normal life.”

  “Okay.” She sighed. “This is the best I can do; cleaner or bar staff?”

  “Bar staff, that’s a no-brainer!”

  “You’re sure? Some would rather clean.”

  “How many women am I going to meet with my head down the toilet?”

  “Good point. But still, I bet you come begging after a week.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve worked in a bar before. I can practise my cocktail making abilities.” He shook an imaginary cocktail shaker.

  “Tom Cruise has already done that film! A very long time ago.”

  “They might remake it, like they’ve done Footloose.”

  Ruby sank her head into her hands. “Oh God, I hope I don’t get the sack for this.”

  “You won’t, but if you do, I’d make sure you were okay. I can afford to.” He patted her arm.

  “That’s not the point. I actually like my job.”

  “You were cursing it only five minutes ago. I think I heard every swear word in the English language. French, too.”

  “Oh, shut up.” Ruby finished her coffee. “Coffee tasted good by the way. Is this real coffee?” She looked at him speculatively.