She's the One

by Teresa F. Morgan

  He grinned. “I went shopping.”

  Her eyes widened with horror. “You did what?”

  “Relax. No one took a blind bit of notice. I’ve even got us some dinner in.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’ve failed to get to a supermarket this week.”

  Steve stood, clearing the table. “So when do I start my new job?” he asked, taking the mugs out to the kitchen.

  “You can start tomorrow. You’ll have to do some training first, about the facilities, hygiene awareness and general hotel procedures.”

  “Awesome.”

  “You’ve really got to work on the accent.”

  “I am!”

  “You’re an actor for Christ’s sake. Pretend it’s a part you’re playing, a role.”

  Steve opened the fridge and started taking the ingredients out he needed to make dinner.

  “You’re only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!” he said, in his best British accent.

  “Ha! Ha! Very Michael Caine. Just tone it down a little.”

  Steve felt a sting on his right ear where Ruby flicked it.

  “That hurt.” He rubbed his head and scowled. “Make yourself useful and peel the potatoes.”

  “Pardon?” Ruby raised her eyebrows, as if waiting patiently.

  Steve cleared his throat. “Please can you peel the potatoes,” he concentrated on sounding more British, “Darling? Ouch!”

  ***

  “Okay, thinking about tomorrow,” Ruby said, tucking into her plate of food. “I think you might want to act a little clumsy or nerdy. It worked for Clark remember?”

  Between them they’d knocked up a simple dinner with lamb chops and lashings of mint sauce. Damn, had he missed mint sauce. This was what living an ordinary life was about.

  “More acting required, huh?”

  “Yes, and I was thinking that we should change your name.”

  Steve nodded. She had a point and he had thought this too.

  “What about Stuart, it’s close to Steve? I wondered about Stefan, but would that be too close?”

  “Stuart is good. Not so keen on Stefan.” Steve pulled a face.

  “Then, Stuart it is. If I start saying Steve, at least I can correct myself. Also, as you’re my brother you’ll have Fisher back for your surname.”

  Steve nodded. “Stuart, Stuart, Stuart,” he said, more to himself. Would he remember he was using a different name? Maybe he really did have to look at this as just another acting part. But there’d be no camera on him.

  “Oh, and we’ve got to come up with a back-story, for why you’ve been away. You phoned from the airport.”

  “How’d you know about that?”

  “Lydia let it slip.”

  “Will I get to meet Lydia? Is she cute?”

  “I don’t know, she’s not my type.” Ruby rolled her eyes. “She’s quieter than Alice. But I’m not getting you a job so you can shag half the staff. You’re going to have to pull your weight, Steve, otherwise the others will start moaning. You have to work.”

  “Yes, I know, boss.”

  Chapter 5

  Ruby parked in the staff car park – as a manager she had her own space. Steve looked up at the quaint hotel, getting out of the car. Ivy grew up the corner of the brickwork and around some of the signage. Durdham Lodge. His insides jolted.

  Nerves?

  “It’s four stars, but it’s a small, manageable hotel,” Ruby said as she locked her car. “You’ll be fine.”

  Since landing, he’d been sure someone was going to shout out, “Hey, that’s Steve Mason,” and draw attention to him. Fortunately, it hadn’t happened yet, and with a telephone call to Marie yesterday late evening, she’d reassured him the tabloids believed he was still holidaying in the Caribbean getting over his break up with Erica.

  But was this foolish?

  No, if he wanted to find a woman to love him sincerely, for him, not his looks, fame or fortune, then he had to give this a try. However mad it seemed.

  What if he didn’t find anyone?

  Then he’d given it a go. At least he’d have had quality time with Ruby…

  “In the week it’s mainly people staying overnight on business, and at weekends we have spa breaks and tourists on city breaks.” Ruby chatted as they walked in through the staff entrance, at the back of the hotel and along a narrow corridor not for the viewing of the paying public. It didn’t have the luxurious decor expected in a four star country hotel, just dirtying magnolia walls. They passed a waiter and a chambermaid, and a small room that looked like it was for the staff, with smells of coffee wafting from it. Ruby swung open a door, they hit the plush red carpet, lavish decor and the aroma of freshly cut flowers. They were inside the hotel. A telephone was ringing in the background. Steve pushed his new glasses up on his face and slouched a little.

  Ruby held open a door to an office – her office – and closed it after them. Steve breathed a little more easily.

  “I warn you now, this is not as glamorous as producing a film,” she said.

  Steve chuckled, straightening his back. “You’ll be surprised. A film set can be far from glamorous at times.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sure it’s really boring.” Steve laughed again at Ruby’s sarcasm. He was starting to get used to her British wit again.

  “Actually it can be very boring.”

  “Yeah, yeah…We’re in early, but the hotel is staffed twenty-four seven.”

  No shit early. Ruby had him up and out before seven a.m. this morning. Okay, he was used to early starts on set, and very long days, but this morning he’d found it hard to get out of bed, as if his body wanted to recoup some sleep. It had only been a couple of days since landing. Jet lag would still be taking its toll. It hadn’t helped it was still dark outside, either.

  A photograph of Ruby and Mum rested on Ruby’s desk, which Steve picked up and studied, smiling at it. She took it out of his hand, scowling, and put it back in its place, then dumped her bag in the bottom drawer of the desk. How long had she been doing this job? He hadn’t even thought to ask her. All he knew from a letter she sent a while back, before Mum’s funeral, was that she was a hotel manager. “Right, I’ll show you around, give you a quick tour and find you a uniform.”

  On their way down the narrow staff corridor they met a young man wearing chef whites, adjusting his hat. “Hi, Ruby,” he said.

  “Oh, this is Brett,” Ruby said and smiled. Under his chef’s hat poked coal-black hair. He wore glasses and had a diamond stud earring in his left ear. “He works in the restaurant.”

  Steve held out his hand and smiled. “Hello.”

  “This is my brother…Stuart,” Ruby said, after a deep breath.

  The young man, probably of similar age to Ruby, took Steve’s hand. He had a firm handshake, which surprised Steve, because Brett was slim built. Maybe the chef whites masked his true appearance.

  “Hi, I’m the sous chef.”

  “Nice to meet you, Sue,” Steve said, and winked, internally cringing – the joke had come out all wrong. He’d sounded American then. Need to concentrate on the accent.

  Luckily Brett laughed. “So what you doing here? Ruby has never mentioned a brother.”

  “She’s giving me a job until I find my feet,” Steve said the first thing that entered his head. Act. Remember to act.

  “Right, well there’s lots to see, talk later, Brett,” Ruby said quickly, grabbing Steve’s arm.

  Steve waved a friendly goodbye to Brett, who watched Ruby with a happy expression, then nodded at Steve.

  Phew, one down, the rest of the staff to go. Maybe he could do this.

  Entering a staff area full of lockers, Ruby rummaged through a cupboard. She handed Steve some clothes and pointed to where he could change, providing him with his own locker key.

  “The rule is to get changed here,” Ruby said. “Not to wear the clothes out of the hotel.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “So that you don’t go down the pub wearing
your uniform, and get drunk and give the company a bad name.” Ruby smiled. “Leave your belongings in the locker too. You’re not allowed a mobile phone or any money on you.” Steve nodded. “Meet me back in my office when you’re changed.”

  Steve fixed his tie and pulled on the three-quarter length jacket over his waistcoat. There was a lot to be said for tailor-made suits – and he wanted his back, now. The grey uniform trousers with their starched crease down the front were a little short in the leg, especially when sitting, and the shirt, like his burgundy polyester jacket, fitted across his broad shoulders snug but was too big in the waist. This added to the dork factor, supposedly, but he was pretty sure Clark Kent’s clothes had fitted him.

  Once he was as happy as he could be with his appearance, he found Ruby’s office.

  “Right, I’ll show you around the hotel, introduce you to some of the staff and then leave you at the bar. I have a hotel to manage. I’ll try to make your shifts tally with mine, otherwise I’ll have to drop you in or something, if you have to come in when I’m not working.” She chewed her lip.

  “Roo, don’t worry about it, I’ll go with the flow. You’re doing me a huge favour.”

  “Okay, let’s do this. Gosh why do I feel nervous?”

  “I don’t know, you’re not the one pretending to be Clark Kent.”

  “Stuart, Stuart, Stuart,” Ruby mumbled as she left her office.

  ***

  Steve was going to look at all this as experience. Research. You never know when something like this might be needed for acting. He followed Ruby out of her office, his heart beating faster with nerves, his palms sweating. His polyester-cotton mix shirt was making him hot and uncomfortable. He pushed the glasses up. The damn things were hurting behind his left ear and across the bridge of his nose. Did he risk returning to get them adjusted? He needed them to be comfortable as he couldn’t risk not wearing them.

  How hard could the work be? It had to be pretty straightforward and he’d do the job adequately. He did worry he’d let Ruby down. All his life he’d acted, though admittedly, he’d done every job imaginable before the acting had taken off. He’d done those successfully, too. Dredging through his memory, he’d done all sorts from waiting tables, serving drinks to working for a pizza delivery company. All in between bit part acting and gigs. Where did fifteen years go when you looked back on them?

  “Okay, you’re predominantly going to work in the bar area. You’ll need to learn how to work the coffee machine too, I’ll get Callum to show you.” Ruby spoke as she walked and Steve nodded, running a finger around his collar. “And at quiet periods you may need to man the reception desk. We’re a small hotel, so we have to muck in where we can. You’ll have to work otherwise the others will complain, you understand?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  She scowled at him.

  “Stuart Fisher,” Ruby said, more to herself than Steve as they headed towards the reception desk.

  “Stuart Fisher.” He nodded and placed an arm on her shoulder. “Relax, Roo, it will be fine.”

  “Yeah, why am I the nervous one here? Just remember to act nerdy, you know, like Clark.”

  “Yeah, yeah, but I don’t want to be too clumsy…”

  Lois hadn’t fancied Clark – not initially.

  “Yes, but too confident and they may see through the disguise. And work on your accent.” Her eyes narrowed. “Right, I need to find Alice,” she mumbled.

  They almost bumped into a skinny lad with mild acne as he walked out of the lift.

  “Ah, Callum, I want you to meet Stuart,” Ruby said, as Steve held out his hand. As Callum returned the handshake, tucking the tray he carried under his other arm, he wore a puzzled expression, as though he’d done nothing so formal in his life. “He’s going to be working with you behind the bar.”

  “Hi, Stuart.” Callum looked from Steve to Ruby.

  “He’s my older brother,” she said.

  “Yeah, Ruby’s helping me out. I need a job for a while.” Steve tried very hard to lose his American accent but at the same time not sound like Benedict Cumberbatch. He remembered Ruby’s advice, and his memories of the old Superman movie, trying to mimic Clark, to make his gestures jittery. Clark never stood as tall and straight as Superman.

  Steve was naturally confident from years of girls falling at his feet, so now he needed to look less secure about himself – especially standing in front of a guy barely out of his teens.

  “Ruby never said she had a brother.” Callum frowned.

  “Well, I’ve been away, um, travelling for a while,” Steve said, not really sure where it had come from. Stupidly, they’d never managed to get around to making up a back-story. Maybe they should have thought harder about a past for him.

  “Yeah, and he didn’t leave on a good note so I didn’t like talking about him,” Ruby added, “but we’re over that now. We’ve cleared the air.”

  “Oh, right,” Callum said, scratching his head. “Nice to meet you, Stu.” Steve frowned. “Oh, you don’t like Stu?” Callum grinned wickedly.

  “No, no, Stu’s fine.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. He’d have to get used to ‘Stu’ from now on.

  “Well, you’re Stu now,” Callum said, laughing. The two men joked for a bit, the nervous atmosphere ebbing away, and Steve was able to relax. He wasn’t looking at him as if he was a Hollywood film star. Phew!

  “I’m going to introduce Stuart” – Ruby almost said Steve, but he was the only one to notice – “to some more staff then I’ll bring him over to the bar.”

  “Yes, boss.” Callum saluted, then turned on his heel and marched away. Ruby rolled her eyes as Steve smirked at Callum’s cheek. Steve had said the same thing and clearly Ruby didn’t like it.

  “Firstly, I need to see Alice about some order issues she raised yesterday, so you can come with me,” Ruby said, patting Steve’s arm for attention.

  Ruby led Steve along a corridor and through some double doors with a sign above them reading “Tranquillity Relaxation Centre”. Instantly a lemony and floral fragrance hit him. The interior had changed from the hotel’s rich colours, to soothing natural pastels, as if he’d walked into another world. The reception desk had a huge vase full of fresh flowers in yellows and whites. To the right of the desk there was a cream leather couch for guests to wait. A glass coffee table sat in front of it, with a neat pile of glossy magazines. Steve gulped. He hoped he wasn’t inside one of them.

  Being early, the place was deserted, including the reception desk.

  “Where is she?” Ruby said, impatience lacing her words as she drummed her fingers against the desk.

  “I’m here! Just made myself a coffee,” called a woman Steve could only assume was Alice. “Though don’t tell the guests, because to them I only recommend herbal teas.”

  Now Alice was Steve’s type of girl. She strode across the wooden floor, and arrived in front of Steve with a steaming mug of coffee in one perfectly French manicured hand. She had chestnut hair, clipped up, with loose tendrils framing her attractive face. As she approached Steve, she smiled a million dollar Hollywood smile.

  “Hello,” Alice said, fluttering her long black eyelashes. Big, chocolate eyes looked him over. Her dark eyes were enhanced by black eye-liner and thick mascara lashes, and her pouty lips were glossy. The spa uniform accentuated her figure perfectly – beige trousers and a matching lotus tunic with a mandarin collar. Even though the tunic wasn’t revealing Steve could still appreciate the swell of her breasts.

  Hello, Alice!

  The woman had curves, and knew how to show them off.

  She wasn’t wearing a wedding or engagement ring. Result!

  “This is Stuart.” Ruby nudged him, and then looked at Alice sternly, reminding her that Ruby was the boss. Alice kept her eyes on Steve, the corner of her mouth twitched. She really wasn’t listening to Ruby.

  “Hi, I’m the new boy.” Steve returned with his own million dollar smile, and then remembering Clark
Kent, albeit probably too late, slung his hands into his pockets as if nervous.

  “He’s my brother, and will be working here for a while. I’m just showing him around. I’ve come to discuss those orders with you.”

  “Oh, yes.” Alice led Ruby over to the reception desk, leaving Steve to mull around in the spa.

  Would Alice recognise him? She had a stack of glossy magazines on the coffee table after all. In her line of business she would be up on fashion and looks. She was the type of woman to take care of her appearance. The type of woman to follow what celebrities were up to.

  Just deny everything. You’re Stuart Fisher. You’ve been travelling for the past few years and now you’re home. Or something like that.

  Really should have worked on a back-story.

  He’d iron out the details at home, later.

  Steve nosed around, finding the pool and gym, then waited patiently for Ruby to finish up with Alice.

  “Right, let’s take you to reception,” Ruby said. Steve shared a worried new-boy expression with Alice.

  “Don’t worry, Stuart, we’ll look after you,” Alice said, almost in a purr. “You’re in safe hands. You should enjoy working here.” Steve swallowed. He imagined Alice’s hands were far from safe. He glimpsed a brief scowl from Ruby, a hint that she didn’t approve of Alice, but he couldn’t see why. She was friendly, bubbly and confident. And beautiful.

  Heady from the spa’s heavy scents and perfumes – or was it Alice’s effect on him? – Steve walked in step with Ruby back to the main part of the hotel, leaving Alice in her relaxation centre.

  “Can staff use the pool, Roo? And the gym?” Steve hoped so, it would be one way of keeping up his fitness. He couldn’t shuck all his responsibilities as a Hollywood hunk.

  “Yes they can, but only when they’re off duty.” Ruby said. “However, I’m not sure if it’s wise for you to be in there.”

  “I’ll make sure I wear really unattractive sweat-pants.”

  “Whilst swimming?” Ruby raised her eyebrows.

  He smirked. “You know what I mean. However, I’m not taking this nerd look to the point of wearing Speedos.”