“Yes, I do. I got you drunk.” He looked down at her, studying her face, her lips parted, and he started slowly lowering his head…
“Right, well, I’d better go.” Lydia pulled away, breaking the eye contact, and quickly got into the taxi before Steve could react. Damn perfect opportunity to land a kiss, and he’d missed it. Or she’d bolted.
He waved as the taxi drove away then returned to the house. Steve took the wine glasses out to the kitchen, Ruby followed. “Hey, sorry, I can’t skip a good Die Hard film, and totally forgot I should have left you two to it.”
“No, why?” Steve wore his best innocent expression.
“Oh, but I thought you were getting along, you know?” Ruby raised her eyebrows inquisitively. “When I arrived home earlier…”
“Oh, that. We were just having some fun.”
“Exactly. That’s what you need, Steve. Fun. Not some casual shag.” He winced. He had hoped she wouldn’t bring up Friday night’s diabolical ending again.
“Yeah, well, whatever happens. Best it happens slowly, right?”
“Not too slowly though. You’ve only got till January, and we’re already into November.”
Now Lydia had left, he did feel deflated. He kissed the top of Ruby’s head and made his way to bed.
It wasn’t easy to get to sleep; he had visions of Lydia curled up on the sofa. At one point their feet had accidently touched, as he spread the length of the couch. He liked how her blonde hair hugged her neck, flicking up at the back, naturally messy. He wanted to feel it between his fingers. He liked the way she tucked strands behind her ears, and the way her cheeks dimpled with her smile.
He never thought he’d feel so strongly about Lydia after one innocent day. One very fine day. He had a major crush, thanks to today, and he now worried she wouldn’t feel the same. But then, she never met his eye, and always played with her hair nervously or chewed her thumb tip. And she’d blush the most gorgeous pink if he teased her or looked at her too long.
Maybe she did feel the same.
He needed to work up the guts to ask her out. Which was ludicrous! He usually never had a problem chatting up a woman. He was Steve Mason, could have any girl he wanted – when it didn’t matter.
His sensible half said don’t rush this, take your time. The other impatient half was screaming you’ve got less than three months, go for it.
***
Bleary-eyed, and stomach churning from the wine the night before, Steve ran downstairs. He’d hastily pulled on a grey T-shirt and some sweatpants to answer the door. Who’d be knocking at this time of the morning? Though it wasn’t too early, Ruby had only left for work.
Steve answered the door to a cheerful postman wearing shorts – in November? The sun was weakly shining, but had the Brits gone mad? What was it with them as soon as the sun poked its head out? Or was it just postmen?
“Good morning. Package for Stuart Fisher.” The postman held out a large padded envelope.
“Oh, yeah, that’s me,” Steve said, remembering he’d told Marie to send the script to his new pseudonym.
The postman offered his pen, and Steve scribbled a signature. A fake one. He signed it ‘S Fisher’, which was his real name, after all.
Being rudely awoken by the postman ruining his lie in, Steve decided to get showered, shaved and dressed, and to make the most of the morning before he collected Lydia. Lydia worked a later shift on reception today, and so Ruby had agreed Steve could match her hours. To keep his mild hangover at bay, he spent breakfast reading the script, getting to know his new character, checking how much had been edited, whilst drinking copious amounts of tea. He’d got back into drinking tea since coming home, mainly because the staff coffee at the hotel was cheap and tasted it.
Steve drove Lydia’s car, a maroon Volkswagen Beetle, to pick her up for work. The old ‘Herbie’ kind, in its original state, no modifications like lowered suspensions, and in very good condition, Steve thought as he viewed the interior. The engine made that lovely ticking piston sound all old Volkswagens had – like a loud sewing machine. Too used to automatics, it took Steve a couple of crunches with the gearbox to get used to the gears – which he wouldn’t tell Lydia about – but it ran smoothly for a classic. Although he’d driven extra carefully, he was still relieved he’d made it to Lydia’s without incident. He didn’t want to have an accident in her car. That would be sod’s law.
He walked happily up to her front door and rang the bell.
“You forgot your book,” Steve said, handing One Day to Lydia when she opened her door.
“Oh, thanks.” She took the paperback, placed it in her large handbag and locked her front door.
Steve arrived at the car first, and in autopilot, opened the driver’s door, thinking he was on the passenger side.
“Don’t you think it would be best if I drove my own car?” Lydia said, frowning at him playfully.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Thinking quick, Steve opened the door wider and bowed as if making out he’d opened the door for her, and not made the mistake about which side the steering wheel was actually on. “Opening the door for Her Grace.” Lydia giggled as she slid into the seat. He shut the door, then jogged around the car to the passenger side.
The left side. Must remember the left side. He kept doing that, and Ruby kept teasing him.
“So how’s your head?” Lydia asked as he buckled up.
“Fine. Why?”
“We drank a lot of wine last night. I’m still feeling slightly woozy.”
“We only did three bottles between us.”
“There were only three of us!”
“We drank them over the course of the evening, and dinner. I feel great.” Maybe a tiny bit ropey. Tired mainly, and he wondered if that was due to lack of sleep. Maybe he should have gone back to bed for an hour after the postman had called.
They walked into the hotel together. Callum, who stood in the back corridor, gave Steve a know-it-all wink.
“We’ve got fifteen minutes, shall we have a cup of tea before we start?” Lydia asked, retreating quickly to the canteen, her face flushed.
“Yeah, I’ll be with you in a minute,” Steve said.
“You sly old dog, Stu.” Callum slapped him on the back. “You and Lydia hey? Did you go out last night? Stay over at hers? You lucky—”
“No, no, no.” He waved his hands, gesturing to Callum to simmer down. “It’s not like that. She stayed for dinner – with Ruby and me. Ruby’s guest, not mine.” Steve adjusted his glasses, then scratched his neck, his face heating up. He wasn’t blushing was he? Did Clark Kent ever blush? “I picked her up in her car, because she’d got a cab home.” Cab? Sounds so American – remember to say taxi. “Ruby had to come in earlier, as me and Lydia are on the late shift.”
“Oh, right,” Callum said, unconvinced. “So what’s she like? They say the quiet ones are the worst. I didn’t think you’d be into Lydia, with Alice wanting to jump your bones.”
“I don’t know,” Steve said, keeping his voice low. “She’s a friend, Callum, drop it.”
“You really should put Alice out of her misery you know, and just do her.”
Steve cringed. Callum had such a way with words. “Alice is way out of my league.” Steve rolled his eyes, trying to be convincing. If he was looking for a bit of fun, Alice would be it. But to be honest, Steve found the way she flounced around and flirted more and more aggravating, and a turn off. Albeit she was beautiful, but there was no chase.
Steve Mason could get a dozen Alice’s. Easy.
Besides, Steve and Alice had been out once, and nothing had come of it. He didn’t think Alice was interested.
“Oh, what happened with that blonde girl you left with on Friday? Cor, Stu, you don’t hang about.”
“Nothing happened with the blonde girl.” Still didn’t know her name. He had hoped Callum would have reminded him then. “I put her in a taxi.”
“You got in with her.”
“And I dropped h
er home.” He would not go to hell for a gentle white lie, would he?
Steve led Callum into the canteen, shoving him in his chair, still talking about how Steve really should shag Alice.
“Alice went home with some other guy, Friday,” Steve said, trying to recall the last hours of Friday night, or Saturday morning.
“Yeah, but—”
“Shut it, Callum,” Steve hissed, spying Lydia walking towards their table with two mugs of tea. He didn’t want Lydia thinking he was crude and callous about how he made love to women. Callum was young, and joking really – he hoped. Alice wasn’t so bad.
When Lydia sat down, Steve changed the conversation. Before they knew it, they’d finished their tea and were all off going their separate ways within the hotel.
During a quiet spell in the bar, Steve refilled the fridges and cleaned the shelves. He was in the small storeroom behind the bar when Alice disturbed his concentration, knocking on the open door.
“What happened to you Friday night?” she asked. Her scent filled the small room. The tight confines of the room meant she stayed close. Heat prickled up Steve’s back.
“Nothing.” Steve swallowed. “What happened to you?”
“Oh, I met some guy, he was okay. I didn’t go home with him, if that’s what you’re thinking. Don’t believe everything Callum tells you.” His arm brushed hers, as he reached up for some crisps. “So, how was your date? Worth it?”
This conversation all over again. He was grateful they were having it with Lydia unable to hear their discussion. “I put her in a cab. Nothing happened.” Truth. Although if Ruby hadn’t turned up, it would have been a very different story.
“Did you fancy going out tonight, on a date, again?”
Steve rubbed the back of his neck, and took a deep breath. “I don’t know, Alice. We work together,” lie, lie, lie, “and I don’t know if it would be such a good idea.” After spending one day with Lydia, innocently, just as friends, everyone else blended into the background. Alice wasn’t ugly, far from it, but he didn’t find her attractive. Whereas Lydia…He could close his eyes and visualise her profile. His heart back-flipped. Creamy clear skin, long dark eyelashes, and lips that had him transfixed – he wanted to know what those lips felt like. Then, there were the little lines at the corner of her mouth as she smiled. No make-up hiding her imperfections, not that she had any. Not that Steve could see. Nor did he care.
Alice worked at her appearance, harder than she probably needed – underneath her make-up was still a pretty woman. Perfectly manicured, fashionable and chic – which she needed to be in her line of work, admittedly. Steve got that. But she was just a little bit too polished for Steve’s liking. He’d found that they ran out of things to talk about.
Would Alice fit into Steve’s real world? More than likely…But Lydia? He wasn’t so sure. That’s what worried him.
“Shame.” Alice shrugged. Steve thought he saw her lower lip quiver, but she held her head high and walked out of the storeroom.
Steve caught up with her before she left the bar area. “Hey, I like us being friends, and well, I can’t believe a girl like you would be interested in a guy like me.”
Flatter her, Steve, use the good old Mason charm.
“What?”
“You’re a beautiful girl. We’re not even in the same league.”
“Stuart, change the frames – they’re way too big for your face, get a better hair cut, and you’d be surprised.” She patted his cheek and walked out.
Steve gulped. Great disguise.
***
Ruby stared at the paperwork in front of her. She hated Mondays at the best of times, but with the wine drunk the night before, her forehead pounded. As she reviewed the figures, staff rotas and orders, unsure which to tackle first, she took a sip of her coffee, and almost spat it out, forgetting it was still hot. Quickly swallowing and scalding her throat, did not improve her mood.
She looked out of her office over the great view of the hotel grounds, her mind drifting to Friday night. It was unusual to be invited out as one of the team. God, she hated being Miss Whiplash, which she’d overheard Callum say many a time to Brett. But she was the boss, sometimes she had to be, well, bossy.
Did Brett think of her that way?
Why did she care what Brett thought?
Get a grip, Ruby!
On Friday he had joined her in the taxi, and even paid the fare. They’d fumbled a nervous goodbye outside her house.
Had she wanted Brett to kiss her?
God, Ruby, this is about finding Steve the one, not you.
She’d got to know Brett more that night. They’d found a quiet corner, because neither fancied dancing, and they’d talked while slowly getting drunk.
He wasn’t that much younger than Ruby after all. She’d assumed he was about Callum’s immature age of twenty one. He was ambitious, too. In the taxi, he’d mistakenly confessed to wanting to run his own restaurant.
Well, if he got another job that would solve the working with one another issue.
But wouldn’t it be nice to have your own business? Be your own boss…
Ruby, start thinking about work, or you’ll be looking for another job, too.
She chucked her pen onto the desk, it flew off the other side and she huffed. Picking it up, frustrated further, she placed it on the desk, then went out to walk around the hotel. She took a deep breath. Concentrate.
After calling in at reception, then the restaurant (hoping for a sneaky peek of Brett, but he was busy), Ruby entered the bar, witnessing Callum and Steve mucking around, wrestling with one another. Thankfully, no guests were present.
She coughed, bringing both their attention on to her.
“We’re running a four star hotel here, Callum, isn’t there something you should be doing? Stuart, can I have a word, please? In my office?” See, that wasn’t so hard. Didn’t forget to call him Stuart.
“Yeah, sure.” Steve whipped Callum with a tea towel, then followed Ruby. His smile dropped when he saw her scowl of disapproval.
“Take a seat,” she said, entering her office. Steve jokingly started to wheel the chair out. “You know damn well what I mean. Sit!”
“Whoa. What’s up?” He hopped into the chair and wheeled it with his heels towards her desk. He was always so full of life, and happy, it annoyed her at times. Ruby closed her office door and then sat behind her desk.
“Steve, I know you need to have fun while you’re here, but remember I need you to work too. I brought you in here so Callum thinks I’m telling you off, and treating you fairly.”
“Oh.” Steve sighed, scratching the back of his neck. The look of frustration that he couldn’t run his hand through his hair for all the gel products made Ruby chuckle.
“Is this your toughest part yet?” she said. Really, she’d wanted to chat, catching him misbehaving had given her a good excuse to call him into her office. Though, she was still annoyed he’d been taking the piss.
“I’d say, and I’m not even being paid. I can’t wait to grow out these damn spikes.”
“Hey, you’re doing great with the Clark Kent disguise, just you know, don’t muck about too much. This job is as much your disguise as the glasses and the haircut.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Steve leaned on Ruby’s desk with his elbows, his expression stern, “have you got Superman on DVD? Maybe I need to refresh my memory. And I’m talking the Christopher Reeve version here. The real superman.” A cheeky grin etched across his face. “None of the remakes.”
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Get back to work, Fisher. Time is money.”
***
Steve carried up a room service order and every time it made him nervous to imagine what might lie behind the door. However, today, after talking to Ruby, his mind was busy. Mediocre Man wanted to become Mr Motivator. Deep down he wanted to get Ruby out of this hotel. She might be the manager, but she didn’t own it. Ruby had bosses of her own she had to report to.
There must be something she’d rather do if she didn’t have to worry about money. He wanted to help her follow her dreams, give her the support Mum had given him. It would have to be another conversation for another day.
He trotted down the stairs, then paused, noticing Lydia and Brett laughing together, the front desk separating them. Was Alice right, did they have a thing going on? Then Brett, chuckling a ‘see you later’, headed back towards the restaurant, leaving Lydia on reception scribbling into her pad. It really was a quiet afternoon, and was everyone fumbling around trying to find something to do. Hopefully it would liven up in an hour, after five, when the business guests would arrive for their overnight stay.
As he approached, she’d caught his eye and shut the pad.
“What you drawing?”
“Nothing.”
Before he could tease, Ruby had joined him, coat on and handbag over her shoulder. “I’m going home. I’ll come collect you later.”
They’d agreed he’d better work his full shift rather than slope off.
“No need, I’ll give him a lift, Ruby,” Lydia said, softly.
Steve stood perplexed. He’d been craving some private time with Lydia, and wondering how to get it, and she’d delivered it to him. “You sure? You don’t have to,” he said.
“Yeah, of course, it will save Ruby coming out later.” She smiled nervously.
“Okay, great, I’ll crack open a bottle of wine when I get home then.” Ruby rubbed her hands together gleefully. “See you later. Now less chatter, everyone.”
In silence, they watched Ruby leave, then Steve clapped his hands. “Right, I’d better get back to work.”
Steve couldn’t wait for the shift to end so he’d get a whole ten minutes alone with Lydia. Okay, so it would be in her car, but after yesterday, he wanted it. He’d take what was given. Thoughts of Lydia swirled around in his brain, and the only way to clear them, put them in some sort of order, was to talk to her, to see if these thoughts were rational or not. It was the only way to find out if she was into Brett. He should take this opportunity, bite the bullet, and ask her out on a date.
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