‘Good, you’ve made up,’ said Pris, ‘because I am starving. And after dinner I want to try a few more bars on my list. So this is what I propose we do. Luca, have you ever been to the Carousel Bar at the Monteleone Hotel? According to the guide book it spins around like a real carousel. Or if you don’t fancy that, there’s Lafitte’s, once home to a famous pirate. Or the Old Absinthe House, where Frank Sinatra used to hang out with Dean Martin… Hey, are you two even listening to me?’
About the Author
Louise Marley writes romantic comedy and romantic suspense, and short stories for magazines such as Take a Break and My Weekly. Her first five books were all Amazon bestsellers and she is now working on her sixth. Louise lives in Wales, surrounded by fields of sheep, and has a beautiful view of Snowdon from her window. She loves loud music, big old spooky houses and the kind of celebrity magazines which you know you’re not really supposed to read but somehow can’t stop yourself. Her latest novel is NEMESIS.
Website: www.louisemarley.co.uk
Twitter: www.twitter.com/LouiseMarley
Facebook: www.facebook.com/louisemarley / www.facebook.com/LouiseMarleyAuthor
Visit www.sunloungerstories.com to discover more about the authors and their story destinations.
We have everything you need to make this your Best Summer Ever!
Return to the contents list.
Beneath the Bay Bridge
***
Holly Martin
DESTINATION: San Francisco
Rosie shivered in the back of the taxi as it drove through the bright lights of San Francisco, cursing for the millionth time her inappropriate choice of clothing. It had seemed a good idea at the time; romantic, whimsical maybe, but she thought Leon would love it. The midnight-blue ball gown glittered in the reflection of the street lights. It was beautiful but the thin silk added to the continual chilly feel of the city even more. Her fake fur wrap was another of the many things in her luggage, either still sitting in Heathrow airport or on its way to Australia right now. The lost-baggage assistant didn’t seem hopeful of it ever turning up.
It didn’t matter anyway. She would soon be at her boyfriend’s house and as soon as Leon saw her in his favourite dress, he would be taking her up to his room, quickly removing her from it and warming her up in that wonderful wicked way that he did best.
She ignored the doubt that was shouting at her from the back of her mind. The doubt that reminded her that Leon hadn’t been at the airport to pick her up as he said he would. The doubt that said he had probably completely forgotten that she was coming at all.
That was Leon all over. His head was permanently in the clouds. He never remembered arrangements or birthdays. He forgot to pay the bills, he never attended appointments. He had lost more phones than she’d had hot dinners. He forgot passwords for banks, email accounts or other important websites. He was, in the nicest possible way, useless.
But Leon was a charmer and with a kiss and his roguish smile he could normally talk his way out of most misdemeanours.
She probably should have guessed that something was amiss when he didn’t reply to any of her calls, texts or emails the past few days. But they’d planned for him to pick her up and take her straight out to dinner to celebrate their two-year anniversary, so his silence probably meant that he had lost his phone again. He would be delighted to see her none the less.
Rosie smiled with excitement as she took in the sights. If she was completely honest the thought of exploring San Francisco was almost more exciting than seeing Leon. Over the last few weeks she had gorged herself on images of the Golden Gate Bridge, the views of the city from the twin peaks, the steep hills, the trams, the houses and sky scrapers. She wanted to see it all and hoped, when they had exhausted themselves with their vigorous reunion, Leon would take her out to see everything.
She had always wanted to visit America: the big cities, the sky scrapers, the people, but she wanted to see the wilderness too, the forests, mountains and great waterfalls. After she left Leon in San Francisco she planned to hire a car and see more of America. A road trip with no known destination, no timetables appealed to her. This was just the start of something big and wonderful, she could feel it. She loved a new beginning, starting a new chapter. It felt like she had been stuck on the same page for a while now. If Leon wanted to come with her that would be great, if not she was more than happy to do it on her own.
She sighed again, feeling the exhaustion of the day’s travel pressing down on her.
In all honesty, things had been a bit… difficult between them of late. They had first met at the university leavers’ ball. The sex was good and they’d had a lot of fun together. It had been like that for a year. His forgetfulness had seemed sweet and endearing.
Then they had moved in with each other and it had become frustrating. There were bills to pay and the place badly needed decorating which Leon never found the time to help with, despite not having a job. She felt like she was nagging him constantly.
But when an acting job came up in San Francisco, he’d leapt at it. He’d been there six months now and things had been better. When they chatted on the phone or on Skype, it had been like old times with the flirting and easy banter. The one time he had fleetingly returned home had been… well, energetic to say the least.
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and in their case they were right. She ignored the little voice at the back of her mind that said there was something wrong if they were better off apart than they were together.
*
Cameron dropped his suitcase by the door and strode through to the kitchen, flicking on lights as he went.
The house was red hot indicating that Leon had left the heating on again, despite constant reminders from Cameron that he needed to turn it off before he went out.
Something stank badly as Cameron hit the kitchen light. Urgh! Dirty plates had been left in several piles, stacked five or six high on the sides of the units. The food encrusted on them looked days old and had started to go mouldy. The main stench was coming from the bin and when Cameron opened up the lid, the mouldy food inside looked rancid, the smell so bad it almost made him gag.
Cursing Leon, he pulled the bag out, tied it up and dumped it in the trash can outside the back door. He emptied the dishwasher and reloaded it with all the old dried-up plates and spent twenty minutes cleaning the surfaces down and clearing out the fridge of all the mouldy food.
It was quite obvious that Leon hadn’t been there for days but when he came back from wherever he was, Cameron was going to have it out with him once and for all. Leon was a good kid, a good laugh, but Cameron couldn’t live with the boy any longer. Six months was enough for any man.
On the notice board was a piece of paper that cheerily declared Leon had gone to Vegas and would be back in a few days. But when that note was actually written was unclear.
Cameron opened a beer and as he took a long swig, the calendar caught his eye. On today’s date, in a big red circle complete with a smiley face were the words ‘Rosie’s coming’.
Leon’s girlfriend.
Surely Leon wouldn’t have forgotten that? The kid was useless at remembering anything, but he couldn’t have forgotten that. Unless they’d agreed to meet in Vegas instead, hence the hasty departure.
Peering through to Leon’s bedroom, off the hall, it was perhaps lucky that Rosie wasn’t coming here. Leon’s motorbike was in several pieces across the floor and the bed and it was evident that Leon had been sleeping on the sofa to avoid having to tidy up.
Cameron sighed and headed to bed. It had been a long two weeks filming in Mexico and he was looking forward to falling into bed and not waking up for two days.
Car lights lit up the door outside and Cameron cursed that living on one of the most famous streets in San Francisco meant that the tourists still drove down this road even late at night. He moved towards the stairs but before he had put one foot on the first step, there was a knock on his front do
or. He hesitated. The knocking came again, louder, more urgent and there was a lot of shouting and cheering out on the street.
Curious, he turned back and eased open the door. Standing before him was Audrey Hepburn.
He rubbed his face, trying to get a grip, because it couldn’t be her. Audrey Hepburn was dead, but this girl with the dark feline eyes, the beehive hairdo, the little rosebud pouty mouth, the pearl necklace and ball dress was the spitting image of the iconic Breakfast at Tiffany’s picture that was hanging two feet away from him in his hall way.
One of the tourists clearly thought so too as he was busily snapping pictures of her like a member of the paparazzi.
‘Is Leon here?’
Cameron’s mouth was dry and he had to swallow hard to generate enough moisture so he could talk.
‘No.’ He cleared his throat. ‘No he’s in Vegas, not sure when he’ll be back.’
She blinked a few times as she registered this, then her beautiful huge eyes suddenly filled with tears.
Crap.
The tourist was shuffling closer, shouting to her, flashes going off in her face. This was ridiculous. She was cold too, that much was clear, little goosebumps exploding over her pale skin.
‘I erm…’ She took a step backwards away from him, clearly not sure what to do now and without the protection of the front porch the tourist almost pounced like a hungry hyena.
It was like watching a rabbit in the headlights and without thinking, he reached out, took her hand and pulled her into the house, closing the door on the tourist who continued to shout in a foreign language and even bang on the door. The tourist shoved a camera through the letterbox in the desperation to get a picture of this famous starlet. Cameron slammed the flap shut and with a yelp from the other side the tourist moved away slightly.
She was so tiny. But then everyone was in comparison to his six feet seven inches.
‘What was that about?’ The girl shivered, her eyes wide and staring making her seem even more vulnerable.
Cameron switched on the hall light and gestured to the iconic poster behind her, smiling. ‘The similarity is uncanny.’
Her face cleared in recognition and then she giggled, the tears she had suppressed moments before sliding down her cheeks as she laughed.
‘I don’t look like that.’
‘I’m sorry but you do, you only need the long gloves and the cigarette holder and the look would be complete.’
The smile slowly slid off her face. ‘Leon’s really not here?’
Cameron shook his head.
‘Oh.’
Please don’t start crying again.
‘Tonight is our anniversary,’ she said in a small voice.
Yep, there were definitely more tears coming. He was useless with crying women. He moved to hug her but her eyes suddenly looked wary and he dropped his hands back by his side. It was hardly appropriate.
‘Leon’s an ass,’ Cameron said, for want of something to fill the silence, then immediately regretted it when she stared at him in shock. He thought about justifying that statement by telling her about all the women Leon had slept with behind her back, but that would just make the situation worse.
But instead of shouting at him she smiled slightly. ‘Yes he is.’
‘Are you Rosie?’
She nodded, wiping her eyes and leaving black streaks across her face.
He suddenly had an overwhelming urge to take her face in his hands and wipe the streaks away.
‘I’m sorry that he’s not here. He just forgets things, you know what he’s like.’
‘I do, so I don’t know why I thought tonight would be any different.’
Her voice wobbled at the onset of more tears.
‘Look, I imagine he’ll be back tomorrow, grinning stupidly and full of apologies, he probably just got the dates mixed up. Why don’t I call you a cab to take you back to your hotel, and I bet by the time you wake up tomorrow, he’ll be there. Where are you staying?’
‘I don’t have a hotel.’
‘You came straight from the airport looking like that?’
‘I flew dressed like this, everyone was laughing and staring.’
Oh God, could it get any worse.
‘It’s Leon’s favourite dress, it’s what I wore the first night we met, I thought…’ she trailed off.
‘It’s OK.’ He took her hand again and led her into the front room. ‘Sit here, I’ll make some tea. I’ll call round some of the hotels, see if they have any rooms and then I’ll call you a cab. We’ll have you sorted in a few minutes.’ He looked around. ‘Where’s your luggage?’
‘Apparently still sitting at Heathrow.’
He groaned. This poor girl.
‘How about I get you some clothes to change into, might make you feel more comfortable. I don’t have anything your size but…’
‘Yes, please.’
He strode into the utility room and grabbed a shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms from the drying racks and passed them back to Rosie.
‘Here put these on. You can change in the bathroom while I make a few calls.’
She nodded, took the clothes and disappeared to get changed. Cameron walked into his office, fired up his laptop and sighed. As beautiful as the girl was, she wasn’t his problem. He was exhausted after his flight from Mexico. He’d had to come home and clean up the kitchen after Leon and now he was cleaning up his girlfriend mess too. He just wanted to climb into his super soft bed and fall asleep for two whole days before he flew off to Alaska to film there. He didn’t need complications; his life was messy enough.
Sitting on his sofa, looking adorable in his shirt and jogging pants, with her hair cascading over her shoulders like a chocolate waterfall, was one very big complication indeed. Not least because his heart hadn’t stopped thundering against his chest since he’d opened the front door to her.
Finding a hotel wasn’t proving easy. With it being Independence Day the next day, every hotel was packed. After fifteen minutes of making calls, he walked back into the front room to find her fast asleep, curled up in a little ball on his sofa.
He sighed again.
She could stay here one night, then tomorrow she could sort herself out. It certainly wasn’t his job to babysit her. If he hadn’t been here when she’d knocked on the door, she would have had to sort out her problems herself anyway. It really wasn’t anything to do with him.
He covered her in a blanket, switched off the light and moved towards the stairs. He got two stairs up this time before turning back. Cursing Leon, fate and the whole damned universe he stomped back into the front room, scooped her up and carried her upstairs to his bed. She didn’t even stir as he lay her down and covered her back up. Still muttering and cursing to himself, he grabbed a spare blanket and a few pillows and stomped back downstairs to sleep on the very uncomfortable sofa.
One thing was for sure, he was going to kill Leon when he saw him.
*
Rosie woke the next morning with sunlight steaming through the window, catching tiny dust particles in great ribbons of gold.
She looked around her in confusion for a moment. Where the hell was she? In a hotel? Images of the night before came flooding back. The long plane ride from England, the huge sense of disappointment that Leon hadn’t been there to meet her. The embarrassing Audrey Hepburn palaver. And the man who had helped her. Had he given his name the night before? Amongst the exhaustion and the tears, she couldn’t remember if he had.
He was huge, easily the biggest man she had ever seen up close. He reminded her of a big yeti as he was quite hairy too. Shaggy dark hair that hung over his blue eyes and two- or three-day-old stubble that added to his sex appeal.
Rosie pulled her knees up to her chin, thoughtfully. He was sexy, there was no denying that. There had been a huge part of her that had wanted him to hug her last night when she was upset. She waited for the guilt associated with that feeling to hit her but it didn’t. In her heart she had known that Leon
moving to the states was going to be the end of them. In reality, she wasn’t a priority in Leon’s life and if they were ever going to make it in a serious relationship, she needed to know that she at least ranked in his top five. As far as she was concerned, they were finished and although that didn’t mean that she was going to jump into bed with the next man that was nice to her, she could still appreciate that the yeti was sexy none the less.
She slid out of bed and looked out the window. The room she was in was like a castle turret, a rounded bay stuck out into the street with windows on all sides giving her a perfect view of the winding curly road the house was on. Of all the places in San Francisco for Leon to live, he had to pick one of the most famous streets. Lombard Street, the ‘Crookedest Street in the World’ with eight tight hairpin turns along a short, steep stretch of road. The tourists seemingly queued up all through the day to either walk or drive down it. But with its flowered borders and cute houses, it really was rather pretty.
At the bottom of the street San Francisco stretched out before her, including Telegraph Hill in the distance and the gold flecked waters of San Francisco Bay.
She wasn’t going to fly back home again just because Leon wasn’t here. She would spend the week enjoying the delights of San Francisco and then do the road trip as planned. Hopefully Leon would show up at some point so she could finish with him properly and move on with her life.
She would have a shower, thank the sexy yeti, if he was still here, and then go out to explore and shop for some things to wear. She opened the bedroom door and listened. The house was silent, indicating that the sexy yeti had gone out. There was one more door at the end of the hall, which Rosie assumed was the bathroom. She ran her fingers through her tangle of hair. The beehive do that Leon loved so much always left her hair in a mess the morning after. She threw her hair over her face to try to detangle the knots as she walked into the bathroom and then swept her hair out of her eyes coming face to face with the yeti. A stark naked, soaking wet yeti.
SUNLOUNGER 2: Beach Read Bliss (Sunlounger Stories) Page 44