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She's the One

Page 19

by Teresa F. Morgan


  He stood as Ruby took her seat, in true gentleman style, however she knew he was far from gallantry.

  “I’ve ordered a bottle of champagne—”

  “You’re paying for it.”

  “Of course, and I hope you’ll join me.”

  Christophe, the waiter arrived, placing an ice bucket by the table with a bottle of champagne chilling inside it. He opened the bottle with control, and let Terence sample it. Terence nodded his approval and the waiter poured a full glass. He went to pour one for Ruby, but she held her hand over the flute.

  “I’ve got to work…but…” she did have to endure an hour with Terence. She might need the alcohol to help calm her nerves. “Oh, what the hell, seeing as you’re paying.” She narrowed her eyes on Terence, taking her hand away from the glass. Christophe poured her some champagne.

  “Christophe, please could you bring me a glass of iced water, too,” she asked the waiter as he was about to leave the table. She would need to remain sober. Not only because of work, but because this sly bastard might try to slip her up.

  “So, why the visit, Terence?”

  He glanced up from the menu, almost surprised by her question. Was he stupid?

  “I was in the area, and thought of you.”

  “We both live and work in Bristol, Terry. It’s been three years.”

  “Yes, I know, but when I saw you the other day—”

  “Stop!” Ruby held her hand up. “You used me, remember that?”

  Terry took a sip of his champagne, possibly to gather his slimy thoughts. “Ruby, it wasn’t like that.” Yes, slimy thoughts.

  Fortunately, the waiter arrived back at the table so Ruby bit her tongue.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  “Yes, I’ll have my usual, Christophe. Tell Brett it’s for me. Charge him full price though, as he’s paying.” She gestured towards Terry.

  Christophe nodded. “And sir?”

  Lamb, I bet he has the lamb.

  “I’ll have the lamb, thank you.”

  Ruby hid her smirk behind the menu. She’d got to know this man so deeply. He’d let her, deliberately of course, so that he could get every gory detail about Steve.

  “As I was saying,” Terence continued once Christophe had left the table, “I did love you.”

  “Terence, I will not sit here for an hour and listen to this drivel. What the hell do you want?”

  “I want to spend some time with you.” He reached across the table and placed his hand on hers, instantly sending ice along her neck, prickling. She snatched her hand away.

  “I don’t feel like that about you anymore.” He might still be a handsome man, but she found him far from attractive. She knew what he was capable of. The lies. The hurt of his betrayal still ran very deep within her, and if she wasn’t careful, it would resurface. She had loved him. He’d conned her so believably.

  Ruby changed the subject, and with the food served, the conversation faltered slightly. If Ruby ate in the restaurant with business partners, Brett always ensured she had a small portion of the chicken dish she loved so much, as she didn’t like to have a large meal at lunchtime. But with Terry in front of her, she had found it very hard to concentrate on the food and ended up leaving half of it.

  As Christophe cleared the plates, Terry was true to his word. “Well, have you heard from Steve?” he said casually.

  “There, finally.” Ruby finished her glass of champagne. She’d stuck to the one glass. “No I haven’t.”

  To Ruby’s surprise Brett appeared at the table with Christophe beside him. “Was everything okay with your meal, Ruby?” His brow furrowed, looking concerned.

  “Yes, it was fine thank you. Why?”

  “You left half of it. You never leave half of it.”

  Ruby chuckled. “Unfortunately I don’t have good company. He put me off my food. Sorry.” She placed a reassuring hand on Brett’s arm, something she felt more comfortable to do nowadays, as he was friends with Steve. Oh, please don’t mention Stuart.

  “Would you like him removed from the hotel?” Brett said, and Ruby admired his assertive tone.

  Brett always prepared her food to her special requirements. She’d always thought it was because she was the manager, but now she started to think it was a bit more than that. He’d become very protective, suddenly.

  And was Christophe cracking his knuckles? He stood beside Brett as if ready to be his right-hand man.

  “Yes, once he’s paid the bill. But get Doug to escort him off.” Doug was one of her security guards. A beefy guy who took no messing. She dabbed her mouth with the napkin then stood from the table. “Do not answer any questions he may ask. And I mean any.” She winked at Brett, then strutted out of the restaurant, glad to be wearing a pair of heels that clipped the slate tiled floor in the conservatory, making her feel sassy and in control of the situation. Inside she jingled like a bag of nerves.

  Only, please, no one breathe a word about ‘Stuart’.

  ***

  “That was odd.” Lydia said, still puzzled over why Ruby would give her the afternoon off. Steve knew why, but he could hardly say he’s a reporter sniffing around to find gossip on Ruby’s Hollywood-Actor-Brother.

  They’d taken Lydia’s car as Ruby had given them both the time off. Steve’s long legs were still cramped in the old Volkswagen, but at least the old girl had character as it thrummed.

  “I mean, you’re not the sort of guy to start a fight…are you?”

  “No,” Steve laughed nervously, “of course not.” Only on well-choreographed film sets.

  “Then why didn’t she want you meeting her ex?”

  Ex? Steve didn’t realise that. He hoped his surprise was masked. “Ruby must have her reasons. Maybe the guy would wind me up to the point I would punch him.”

  Lydia gave Steve a disapproving look.

  “Apparently he treated her roughly.”

  “How roughly?”

  “Oh, not like that roughly. I mean, he broke her heart.”

  “Oh.” She nodded her understanding.

  “So, let’s not dwell on it.” After another fabulous date on Friday night, and brief encounters at work during the weekend, Steve was feeling very comfortable with Lydia “Let’s make the most of a sunny November afternoon. Bit chilly, but at least it’s dry.” Which made a change. There was too much rain in England.

  “Well, I haven’t had lunch.”

  “No, me neither. Let’s head for the waterfront. We can pick up a bite to eat and watch the boats on the river.”

  “And go for a walk.”

  Steve smiled. He liked Lydia. So early on really, yet they seemed to fall into step with one another. He felt at ease in her company, as if he’d known her years – but in a good way. “Yes, and a walk. Maybe you’ll let me hold your hand?”

  “I might, if you play your cards right, Stuart.”

  “You let me on Friday night.” They’d walked from the restaurant in Clifton to a pub, and he’d taken her hand into his as if it was the most natural thing to do. And as it had been cold, he’d tucked her hand with his into his jacket pocket.

  Lydia chuckled. “So I did.”

  Hand in hand they walked until they found somewhere near the river to get a light lunch and frothy cappuccinos. Sitting by the window, they could chat whilst watching the world go by. The sun had sneaked out from behind the clouds, and spread warmth through the glass. It was turning out to be a fine day. One fine day with Lydia was worth a thousand with Erica…or any other woman for that matter, Steve thought, happily.

  As they chattered, having their coffees refilled, Steve decided to keep the conversation on Lydia, to alleviate his guilt of telling lies. “Your drawings are impressive, Lydia,” he said, wiping his hands on a paper napkin. “How much time do you spend on them?”

  “Every free minute.”

  “And when it’s quiet at work.”

  “Oh, I tend to only touch up some of the sketches at work, tweak them. I usuall
y start them at home.”

  “What, even the ones of me? – I mean of my eyes…” Big mistake. Lydia looked at him questioningly. He held up his hands. “Okay, I’m sorry, I confess, I looked in your sketchpad,” he said, jovially, but Lydia’s expression hardened, her face flushing red.

  “Stuart, I told you not to look in that pad.” She pushed back from the table, her chair scraped the tiled floor, and she wouldn’t meet his eye.

  Leaning forward, he took her hand gently, tugging to get her to meet his gaze. “Hey, Lydie, please don’t be mad at me,” he said, softly. “Your drawings are amazing, you have a real talent. I’m so flattered you’ve drawn me.”

  “I asked you not to look,” she said, angrily.

  “I know I shouldn’t have looked but I was intrigued, I want to support you.”

  “Support me?”

  “Yes, if we become a team, which I hope we will – I know it’s early days yet,” he shrugged, “then I want to help you with your career. I’ll understand if you say you can’t see me because you need to finish an illustration. Things like that.”

  Lydia softened, and he drew her in for a kiss, tenderly cupping his hand around her neck.

  When he released her, she smiled. “Stuart, that’s really sweet.”

  “Come on, it’s a fine day out there. If I’m forgiven, let’s make the most of this sunshine,” Steve said.

  “You’re forgiven.”

  He paid the bill, then coats buttoned, they linked arms and strolled along the waterfront, becoming tourists for the day in the midst of the city.

  Chapter 17

  Saturday 23rd November

  The week passed in a blur; working, dating Lydia, and playing Xbox or Wii with Callum and Brett. Life could not be more normal, and less stressful, if he tried. He was surprised at how much he wasn’t missing the thrill of acting, which usually gave him a buzz, making him feel challenged and alive. Maybe it was because he’d been living peacefully, unrecognised. That’s what he wasn’t missing. The fact he could live without the fear of the press being at his heel was surprisingly relaxing. He couldn’t have lunch out in Hollywood without someone taking his photo.

  But was his life really normal? Ruby fretted occasionally about money, when a bill would come in, counting the days till her next payday. Admittedly, she stopped doing it in front of Steve. She knew his answer would be to write her a cheque in a flash or transfer the money. Was this why life was so relaxing? No money worries, yet in hiding from his own reality. The only ‘real life’ reminder he had was when he started going over his lines in the script for his next movie.

  Steve also sneaked out to their old house to see how the builders and decorators were coming along. Soon he’d be able to show Ruby its transformation, and hopefully convince her it was where she belonged.

  Walking back from the corner shop one Saturday morning, thinking about the house, Ruby, Lydia, and how he’d have to return to his real world, how that weighed heavy on his shoulders, he noticed the poster in the bus stop had changed.

  Erica Kealey, dressed in leather and wielding a machine gun, looked provocative and sexy advertising her next film. Her husband-to-be, the hero of this movie was standing beside her. This was Hollywood.

  Steve studied it, realising he felt unaffected by this picture. He admired it. Erica was a beautiful woman. She appeared taller and stronger in this picture than she looked in real life. But she no longer stabbed at Steve’s heart, that pang of emptiness and love lost didn’t happen.

  He was over Erica Kealey.

  Lydia was equally beautiful, and she didn’t have the money or resources like Erica, and she made him laugh. She allowed him to be himself, not the alter ego of Steve Mason whom everyone had to see on chat shows, or in glossy magazines. Okay – so he’d had that with Erica behind closed doors – sort of. It was only now, looking back, he could see how wrong Erica was for him. Lydia brought the best out of him, whereas with Erica, he’d had to work hard in the relationship. Everything was easy with Lydia. Okay, he couldn’t deny the initial attraction he and Erica had, but underneath the surface, that’s all it had been. They may have worked in the same circles, but it was obvious they were two very different people. Unlike Steve, Erica had been born into stardom, having an entourage from a young age. She didn’t know of the struggles and money worries ordinary folk worried about on a daily basis. And he had started to forget, too, as a wealth of money can easily do.

  Lydia didn’t need bodyguards, an entourage – though she might when – if – Steve made his romance with her public. He swallowed down the worrying thought. He’d cross that bridge when it came to it. It was important to use this time to get to know Lydia, fully, before taking that leap. Their romance might fizzle and there’d be no need. It’s why he hadn’t yet made love to her. They were both eager. He assumed Lydia felt the same, the way she kissed him goodbye, not wanting to let go. It got more difficult every night he had to leave her. He was fit to burst. Even though his head said he needed to rush through things – Christmas was rapidly approaching – he didn’t want to. It wouldn’t be fair on Lydia. He hated lying to her. He’d hinted he wouldn’t be in the job long, maybe to reassure her this affair wouldn’t affect her job if things did go wrong. But he didn’t want to take their relationship to the next intimate level until he was truly sure. Maybe this way there’d be less fallout if things did go wrong. He didn’t need details of Lydia’s and his relationship getting into the sordid paws of the press.

  In these past weeks, Steve had time to think. Reflect. Erica and he had had a whirlwind romance. The press had glamorised it, ‘Hot New Couple Alert’ and all that trash, and new to the rollercoaster ride, Steve hadn’t liked the jerk when it stopped and Erica stepped off. She’d been in the limelight longer than Steve, and had learnt to cope with a public break-up.

  Arriving at his front door, he slotted the key into it and entered, the smell of bacon and eggs greeting him. He patted his grumbling stomach. He needed to train harder. Ruby was feeding him too well. He threw his glasses aside on the coffee table.

  “Oh, just in time for breakfast.” Ruby called from the kitchen. As he sat at the table, dumping the papers and magazines he’d fetched from the shop, Ruby pushed a fried breakfast under his nose.

  “You’re too good to me.”

  “Well, don’t get too used to it. But I like you being home, so I thought I’d spoil you. But you tell a soul and I’ll kill you.” She was waving the tomato sauce bottle at him. He grabbed the brown sauce already on the table. “I don’t want word getting out that I’m actually domesticated. Someone might try and make a wife out of me.”

  “You’ll make a great wife.”

  “Pfft.” Ruby pulled a disbelieving face and went back into her kitchen. “Someone’s got to learn to put up with my bossiness first.”

  “True.” He chuckled. He knew his sister was confident and strong-willed, but they weren’t bad qualities; it meant she could handle herself and not be walked over by some git. Except Terence, but Ruby had learnt from that incident. No, he didn’t have to worry about her – too much. Swallowing his food, he asked, “Will you help me go through my script today?”

  “Oh, do I have to?” Ruby pulled a face as she sat down at the table with her own breakfast.

  “I can’t ask Lydia, can I? However much I would like to.”

  Ruby sighed. “All right. Of course I will. When do you think you’ll tell Lydia the truth?”

  Steve scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know. I want to, but then I want to make sure she feels strongly about me.”

  “Have you two…?” Ruby raised her eyebrows questioningly.

  “Ruby!” Steve scolded. “A gentleman should never kiss and tell…but no, I’ve been waiting – it’s only been a couple of weeks. I don’t want to hurt her. I want to make sure I do love her first.”

  “And that she loves you?”

  “Yes.”

  ***

  Tuesday 26th November
/>   Steve thought he was having a really good day at work until he answered the phone on the bar, and heard Ruby hiss “Terence is here. Hide,” while at the same time, Callum, stood right beside him, and said, “Cougar alert. Incoming.”

  Should he be concerned about Terence showing up twice in just over a week? Did Terence suspect something or was he just pursuing Ruby?

  Steve glanced up to see Ms Jones, aka Marilyn heading his way. “Ruby, I’ve got to go. I’ll keep out of sight, I promise.” Ruby’s reporter ex-boyfriend seemed the least of his worries right now. He slammed the phone down. Great, and he was supposed to be taking his lunch break with Lydia in a minute.

  “Callum, I’ll go do that stock take and don’t disturb me,” he said, loudly.

  “I don’t know what you’re worried about. For an older women, she’s hot.”

  “You chat her up then.”

  “I would, but she doesn’t fancy me.”

  Steve ducked out of sight into the store cupboard where he could hear the conversation at the bar.

  “Oh!” Ms Jones said. “Where is your colleague?”

  “He’s doing a stock take. Can I help, Madame?” Callum stumbled over what to call her. All mouth, no action, Callum. He won’t chat her up.

  “That’s a shame…I’ll have an Americano, please.”

  “But Stuart’s British.”

  Steve stifled a groan.

  “Pardon?”

  Callum chuckled. “Forget it…would you like the coffee taken up to your room?”

  “No, I’ll sit in here. Put it on my room bill, please.”

  Steve rolled his eyes – he was stuck. As he heard Callum shuffle about, using the till then the coffee machine, Steve wondered how the hell he was going to escape without being noticed. Hard, because the only way out was through the bar. He couldn’t even dive out via the back door onto the decking.

  “Hi, Callum, is Stuart about?”

  “Oh hi, Lydia,” Callum said loudly, Steve presumed he thought he couldn’t hear. “He’s stock taking.”

  “Hi, Lydia, ready to go?” Steve appeared from the stock room, smiling. He tried to look as if he’d been working hard. “I’ll finish the rest of the stock take later, Callum.”

 

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