“I am sincerely sorry. Beef can get a little, overprotective shall we say?” says Jonny Riley, slowly stepping forward. His smile is awkward, but exudes such genuine warmth that my icy glare begins to instantly thaw.
I huff, “Just a little overprotective?”
Jonny Riley turns to his ginormous sidekick. “Beef, I think you owe this lady an apology?”
“I am very sorry . . . I’m just doing my job, I apologise if I was overly rude, madam,” says the awkward looking man.
He is approximately forty-five-years-old, with no hair, at all, on his large, gleaming scalp. In fact, such is the lack of hair; the lights reflect off the shiny area on the top of his incredibly big head. His overly tanned and leathered looking face is now faintly smiling back at me. With intrigue, my eyes scan the enormous man before me. He is almost as tall as he is wide. His neck is so damn thick; it must have at least four or five creases at the back of it. This guy really is huge in stature; he is like a small mountain made of skin, bone and muscle.
“Beef, eh? How very appropriate,” I reply with obvious sarcasm and a feeble smile.
“Isn’t it just?” Jonny Riley laughs. Shit! Jonny Riley is laughing at one of my quips . . . aaarrrggghhh!
Although I am completely star-struck, I still try to remain composed . . . aloof almost.
He steps closer still, politely holding out his hand. “Forgive me, I am Jonny Riley. Myself and Beef are slightly lost; do you know what floor this is, please?”
I tentatively shake his hand. Oh my God! I am actually touching Jonny Riley! Please don’t faint Jessica . . . just please-don’t-faint! “This is floor two,” I manage to calmly answer.
“Well, we are supposed to be on floor three, however, bumping into you has certainly made floor two all the more pleasant, actually.” He throws me a heart-stopping grin. Shit!
I look at him, trying to gauge whether he is being sarcastic or sincere. He has an air of confident arrogance, which I can almost smell. Although I am actually beginning to feel a little uncomfortable, I find myself still smiling. Jessica Neel, STOP smiling like a crazy lady. Just move your damn legs before you really do make a fool of yourself! I am so preoccupied with the rather delicious Jonny Riley, who seems to be actually flirting with me; that for just a moment, I appear to have lost all power of speech and movement. Shit! My thoughts, however, are quickly interrupted by the sound of chatter coming from down the hall.
Two teenage girls are chatting and heading towards us. One of them looks at Jonny Riley and squeals, which then starts a squealing frenzy between the two of them. The one girl then actually faints, causing Jonny Riley to rush over and check whether she is okay. Shit! Maybe fainting wouldn’t have been such a bad idea after all? I quickly push aside such a ludicrous thought to concentrate on the drama that is unfolding before me.
“Beef, give me a hand lifting her up,” Jonny Riley asks, as he struggles with the unconscious teen.
The other friend has stopped squealing, but is now rambling, “Oh, my God, she’s gonna be so bummed that she’s fainted. Can I have your autograph, Jonny? Oh, my God, I’m gonna have to get a picture of this.” She pulls out her mobile phone and promptly starts to take pictures of her fainted friend with her idol, who is trying to carry her with Beef.
Opposite the lift is a gold table, with a huge vase of flowers on the top; beside it are two ornate gold and cream chairs. Together, the drop-dead gorgeous Jonny Riley and his burly bodyguard carry the girl to one of them, carefully sitting her on it.
“What is your friend called?” Jonny Riley asks the still rambling friend.
“Emily, oh, my God, I cannot believe this is happening.” Excitedly the girl is jumping up and down, clapping her hands with delirious delight.
“Emily, can you hear me?” Jonny Riley has his one hand upon the girl’s shoulder, gently trying to rouse her from her hysteria-induced faint. I stand there, feeling out of place, and frankly very embarrassed. Is this what it is really like for celebrities? Everywhere they go, girls passing out in hotel lobbies?
I catch a flustered Jonny Riley glance over at me. We hold a lingering stare. His arrogance appears to have gone; now he looks almost bashful. I want to get out of there, find my room, and tell Lydia all about the insanity I have just witnessed on the second floor. I pick up my bags and begin to walk away.
“Wait, I never got your name,” Jonny Riley says, beginning to stand up straight, after crouching down beside the just coming-to teenage girl. “Beef, give Emily a drink of water will you . . . and take care of her.” He begins to walk over to me. I nervously stand still as he approaches me. “I am sorry about all that, it kind of comes with the territory, I’m afraid.” He holds his hands up apologetically.
“No need to apologise. I am just glad she is okay,” I say with an assuring smile.
There is now an awkward silence hanging in the air, he seems nervous. With him standing closer to me, I can clearly see his cappuccino eyes. They are like little melting pots, which you just want to dive the hell into. His hair is light brown in colour and is slightly ruffled. He looks after himself, I can tell by how well groomed he is; nails short and buffed, his skin lightly tanned and radiant, and teeth a natural looking white. The cherry on top is the way he looks in indigo jeans and fitted white linen shirt he wears, so damn well. Shit!
I always thought he was hot but he is devastatingly handsome and charming, with it. This is all beginning to feel rather surreal and overwhelming, yet, I remain magnetised to him. Utterly ridiculous I know, but my God, he is sexy as hell. Jonny Riley, the actor, the drop-dead gorgeous piece of trouser leg, stands before me and wants to know my name. Shit, am I dreaming all of this? “I am so sorry, Mr. Riley, I really must go as my boss will be wondering where I have got to. We have a convention at 1:30 p.m. and some meetings to attend. It has been . . . how can I say? . . . interesting meeting you. What with nearly knocking you out and fainting girls.” I laugh and I am very grateful when he laughs, too.
“No, I apologise for the way Beef grabbed you. Mind you, the look that you threw his way nearly floored him,” Jonny tells me with a delicious grin.
I blush, nervously touching my ear. “That scary, huh?” I ask.
“So scary, maybe you’ve missed your vocation. If ever Beef resigns, I’ll be giving you a call,” Jonny says with a laugh.
“I think I’ll stick to selling toys. Well, goodbye, Mr. Riley.”
“Goodbye Mrs. . . . .?” he asks, patiently waiting for me to divulge my name.
“Neel, Jessica Neel,” I say with a warm smile.
“Goodbye, Jessica Neel.”
I turn and walk towards the hallway. Holy shit, what the hell just happened? I have actually met THE Jonny Riley.
Room 17A is a welcome sight. Using my key, I quickly let myself in.
“There you are, Jess, I was beginning to think you had forgotten all about me.” Lydia says with a welcoming hug. Her dark, short, and very sexy hair is immaculate as always. It’s a pixie crop with longer layers on top. Her dark brown, deer-like eyes are fabulously accentuated with lashings of the darkest mascara.
“Lydia, you look amazing.” She is wearing black satin trousers with a fitted, yellow chiffon shirt. The canary yellow shirt with her sultry dark hair and eyes are a marriage of sophistication.
“So, how was your journey down, Jess?” Lydia asks.
“Great, thanks. Although, the events in the hallway just now are far more interesting,” I say with animated arms.
“Mmmmm, do tell.” Lydia has an eyebrow, which always arches when she is interested. Right on cue, her brow is raised high, wanting me to divulge all.
“Well, I was coming out of the lift and I literally bump into Jonny Riley, whose beast of a bodyguard then pushes me out the way. Furious, I have a right go at him in front of Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous. Then these girls begin to scream, one of them faints and it ends with Jonny Riley asking me my name.” My over-enthusiastic re-telling leaves me breathless.
; “Hang on a minute, Jonny Riley, the actor is here . . . in this hotel?” Lydia’s mouth is wide open as are her dramatic, almost theatrical eyes.
“He sure is,” I reply.
“The Jonny Riley of Secrets of Lypiatt Hall and Whispers at Lypiatt Hall?” she asks.
“Yes, indeed . . . that Jonny Riley.”
Lydia’s frown deepens, her eyes widen. “The one who is always in the magazines?”
“Yes!” I reply in annoyance.
“THE Jonny Riley who is also on our shag list?” Lydia continues with her questions, her eyes almost bulging out of her head.
“The very same . . . yes!” I tell her, again.
“And you have only gone and bumped into him?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Literally, I nearly fell over as I did so, it was that bloody hard.”
“And there was me getting all creamy knickered over a delightful little handbag that I have bought in Selfridges,” Lydia pouts, plumping herself down onto the bed.
“Lydia, he is so, so gorgeous, even better in the flesh,” I sigh at the mere thought of him.
She wickedly smirks. “Anything is better in the flesh, darling.”
I purse my lips, tilting my head. “I really laid into his bodyguard called Beef.”
“That is funny, a bodyguard called Beef . . . love it,” Lydia laughs loudly. “So, what exactly did this Beef guy do to upset you then, Jess?”
“He bloody pushed me out the way, that’s what. He practically told me to keep my hands to myself; like I was some crazy fan trying to touch up Jonny Riley.”
“But did you, Jessica Neel? Did you try and have a quick grope?” Lydia has her head thrown back, she is laughing that much.
Unimpressed, I put my hands on both my hips. “Cheeky cow, no I did not! You would have been very proud with just how composed I actually was.” I tell her with my head held high.
“I bet you wished you had now though, don’t you?” Lydia questions as she stupidly waggles her eyebrows.
I demurely grin at my knowing friend, who is by now hysterically giggling around on the bed. “He is rather scrummy . . . oh, shit, I sound just like the girl in the hallway now,” I giggle at the wholly ridiculous situation.
“What happened?” Lydia asks, trying to suppress her hysterics.
“These two young girls saw him and went hysterical. The one girl fainted and all the other girl was interested in was getting it all on her phone. She even asked for his autograph while he was trying to bring her friend round. It was bloody hilarious,” I laugh.
Lydia walks into the bathroom, preening herself in front of the mirror. “So, why did the insanely gorgeous Jonny Riley want to know your name?” she asks.
I hadn’t even stopped to consider this . . . why did Jonny Riley want to know my name?
Shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head, I answer. “I don’t know, Lydia. All he did say was that they were lost, that they were wanting floor three, and that bumping into me on floor two made it more pleasant.”
“Christ, was he flirting with you, Jess?” Lydia, yet again, has her theatrical eyes on me, almost begging for an answer.
“I wouldn’t go that far, just being charming, I think. These famous peeps are probably always acting. Besides, Jonny Riley could have whomever he wanted any day of the week. Why on Earth would he be flirting with me? He was probably a bit bored and needed his ego boosted for a second or something? Besides, I am a married woman; married women do not throw themselves at celebrities, Lydia Mason,” I say firmly.
“Hey, don’t put yourself down, Jessica. You are gorgeous . . . very married . . . but gorgeous all the same.”
“You have just reminded me, I must quickly call Shawn before we go to these meetings. Do we still only have the two before the convention?” I ask, grabbing my phone.
“Indeed we do Jessica, just quickies with new contacts. The Merrett Brothers and Ecosively For You are new sellers of traditional and fair trade toys. Then, it’s schmoozing, darling, with as many buyers and sellers as possible at the convention.”
“Any plans for tonight?” I eagerly ask.
“Not as yet, I thought we could see what the night may bring?” Lydia has a spring in her step. She can be ruthless in business, but she has a naughty, playful side to her, which men absolutely adore. She has never married, but has been engaged five times. It would take a special man indeed to tame Lydia Mason.
“Right then, I will call Shawn now and then we can make a start.” I walk into the bathroom to check how I look. I dial my home number, all the while digging into my make-up bag, trying to retrieve my blusher and brush.
“Hi, Hun, I have arrived safe and sound,” I cheerfully tell Shawn.
“Hi, Babe, glad to hear it. So, what’s The Broadway Tower like?” he asks.
“It is fabulous, very chic. I almost feel too scared to sit down anywhere, in case I make a mess.” I hear Shawn’s homely, throaty laugh.
“I have tea all prepared, so don’t you worry that we are going to starve whilst you are away.”
“Good, I wouldn’t want to be accused of neglect . . . Listen, I better make a move, Hun, as we have our first meeting in a bit. Give my love to the girls and I will see you tomorrow . . . love you,” I affectionately tell him.
“Love you, too, Babe.”
I quickly apply my rose blusher, my lipgloss, plus sleek myself down. Perfect . . . time to be professional, Mrs. Neel.
The first meeting is to be held in one of the smaller rooms to the left of the main convention room. Lydia and I prepare ourselves. The banter and the chatting are quickly put to one side. We are in professional mode and Lydia is damn good at it. I have learned from the best and together we make quite a formidable team.
There is a knock to the door, Lydia speaks in a friendly, yet authoritative, manner. “Come in, please.”
The Merrett brothers have an obvious family resemblance. One is older and more serious looking; the younger looking brother has a more friendly, approachable look about him. I welcome them both with a smile, gesturing for them to sit down. Lydia warmly shakes their hands and begins the formal introductions.
“Hi, I’m Lydia Mason, owner and director of Magical Toys of Mason. This is my friend, colleague, and right hand woman, Jessica Neel. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I hope that my company and yours can enjoy a great working relationship. I am very keen to see what products you have for us. Hopefully they will be suitable to add to the already fantastic toys we stock.”
It never bores me to watch Lydia at work. She has a charming, no nonsense, go-getting attitude. She is always straight to the point, no fussing, no glossing it over. She is confident, with bags of charisma. This is what makes her such an amazing businesswoman.
“I am Matthew Merrett and this is my brother, Joseph Merrett. It is great to finally meet you. I am sure we shall both benefit from our business relationship.” The older brother, Matthew, is smiling at Lydia; his stern looking face is replaced by genuine warmth.
He looks smart and formal in his dark blue, tailored suit. His hair is dark with flecks of grey resting on his temples. He is handsome in a rigid kind of way. I bet after a few drinks his whole demeanour would relax, though. I can’t help but smile to myself at the thought of Matthew Merrett really intoxicated. Damn it, Jessica . . . FOCUS!
“Are your products being sold anywhere else?” I look directly at Joseph Merrett when asking my question.
Joseph has a natural, easygoing demeanour. Similar to his brother, he is dressed formally in a blue suit, but his purple shirt adds a rebellious, vibrant splash of colour. The purple shade against his dark hair and blue eyes complement one another perfectly. I like this guy’s warmth, I instantly feel at ease with him. Wearing the biggest smile, he leans forward to answer my question.
“Our products are sourced worldwide, we have them selling in carefully chosen shops and online stores. Currently our toys are being sold in America, France, Holland, and the UK. The shop, here in En
gland, is in Oxford but we have been looking to grow our online presence with other companies, in order to showcase more of our stock. Obviously, checking out Magical Toys of Mason, we feel our toys would be a great addition to the fantastic range of toys you already stock.” He hands me a catalogue.
Matthew Merrett interrupts. “I think it can be safely said that the products speak for themselves.” Joining our conversation, he hands Lydia a copy of the glossy catalogue.
We both sit there looking at the array of wonderful, traditional toys; a child’s enchanting paradise before our eyes in vibrant pictures.
“So, once we have chosen which toys we would like, how soon can you get them to our warehouse?” Lydia lifts her eyes to look at both brothers.
“Within seven to ten days; some products are already in this country so those could be with you within a few days, if not sooner.” Lydia smiles at Matthew’s answer with nodding approval.
“Our prices are competitive and negotiable. We want our business relationship to benefit both our companies,” Joseph says, handing us both a price list.
We take a moment to briefly look at it. I glance at Lydia. Her brow is raised, which is a good sign. I am impressed with the prices, too. The toys are wonderfully unique, just what we are looking for.
“I love the toys, there are some really unusual and gorgeous ones. We are always trying to sell something different than that of our competitors.” Joseph smiles, nodding agreeably with my comment.
“Very well, let us both have a good look at the products and the price list. Then I’ll get back to you next week and we can go from there. You truly have some wonderful toys and I feel our companies are going to work together beautifully.” Lydia looks at me to ensure I agree. I smile and a silent agreement passes between us.
A Famous Affair Page 2