Scripted Reality

by Karen Frances

  “Glad to hear it.” He smiles and Callum starts talking to him about football. I really don’t see the attraction of it myself. I’ve never liked it, not really. Don’t get me wrong, I can recognise players because of Callum’s line of work. He’s always doing interviews with them.

  Callum told our waitress when she brought over the first round of drinks to keep the drinks flowing at our table. I’m not sure that’s such a good idea considering how I was feeling last night with only having two.

  “Well, are you going to give in and let your hair down completely tonight?” Julie asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you still look uptight. And given all the attention you’ve been getting, there’s no reason for you to be feeling like that. You look hot tonight and I know you could have your pick of any man, or woman if you fancy a change, in this club tonight.”

  “Julie!” Connor and Callum look at us, shrugging their shoulders. “There’s no way that’s happening.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. But you could be onto something because I don’t think Connor will let anyone near you.”

  “Oh, please. I’m not listening to this. I think I need another drink.”

  “Yes, I agree. We should do shots. Let’s have some fun. What do you say, boys? Shots?” Connor grabs the waitress’s attention and orders another round of drinks and shots. At this rate, Connor won’t be in any fit state to look after me. My heart sinks with my last thought, leaving me with an unexplainable feeling of emptiness.

  I lean back in the chair, disappointment fresh in my head. It felt nice today, knowing Connor was concerned enough for me to look after me last night.

  With everything else going on in my life, I don’t need another complication. It’s Michael that brings over the round of drinks this time. Julie picks up the shots and hands them to each of us. “Three. Two. One.” With Julie’s countdown, we all down the green alcohol.

  I shake my head and squeeze my shoulders closer to my ears as the aftertaste lingers in my mouth. Michael laughs as he leaves our table. I hope Julie doesn’t plan on drinking more shots tonight, because I’ll never keep up.

  Yes, I’m a lightweight.

  “Right, missy, we’re not sitting here all night. Come on and dance with me?” Julie pleads, tugging my hand.

  “What, now?”

  “Yes. Come on. Let’s see what you can do.”

  “Go on,” Callum encourages me. Connor sits quietly, watching my friend pull at my arm. I reluctantly agree and she drags me from our secluded corner seat. We hit the dance floor. I close my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to feel the music; nothing else, just the beat. A rhythm that very quickly pulls me in, making me forget everything else.

  When I open my eyes, Julie is moving in time to the beat of the music. “There’s my friend. For the first time tonight it looks as though you’re right here with me, and enjoying yourself.”

  “Yes, well there’s something about music that helps me forget about the shit-storm that is my life at the moment.”

  She smiles widely, glancing over my shoulder. “Don’t turn around, but a certain someone can’t take his eyes from you. From here, his profile looks rugged and sombre. There’s a certain sensuality oozing from him as he holds you hostage with those dazzling eyes.”

  Wow! I have no comeback to that.

  “Are you going to dance with him?”

  “Julie . . . No. I think I’ve probably given the media enough to speculate about.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. As your dear mum used to say, ‘If they’re talking about you, they’re leaving someone else alone.’” She spins around, turning her back to me. I risk a glance back to our seats and she’s right. Connor’s eyes are on me. Callum is speaking to him but it’s obvious he’s not listening to a word. I turn away back to Julie and carry on dancing.

  Dancing and alcohol. Both will keep me occupied for tonight.

  One song leads straight into another and another and I find I’m actually having fun. Julie and I shout at each other over the music, reminiscing about past nights out with each new song that starts.

  “I’m thirsty,” I shout, pulling her with me back to our seats. The guys smile as we sit down. More drinks are already waiting for us, including shots. Tomorrow I’ll be useless. I notice Connor is drinking what looks like water. I frown, staring at him.

  “What? I’ve promised I’ll look after you and I’m enjoying watching you having fun. There’s no way you’ll make it up the stairs and into your bed without help and I’ll say this now, there’ll be no one else helping you into your bed or any other bed.”

  That’s me told.

  “You sound like Callum. I have no intention of going anywhere with anyone.”

  “Three. Two. One!” Julie shouts. I pick up one of the shots and throw it down my throat in one. Oh. My. God; the burn laces my throat. “And another.” Julie hands me another shot. We take them quickly. I think my memory about tonight is going to be very blank.

  Maybe that will be a good thing as I lift my head and my eyes meet Connor’s and, for the first time ever, I see him. Really see him. His brows and eyes are startling against his tanned complexion and dark hair under the lights above. The shadow along his jawline gives him a manly sexuality. As he watches me, I can see touches of humour around his mouth and near his eyes.

  I sense a certain amount of arrogance from him and it confuses me. Because I’ve never thought of him as arrogant.

  This isn’t good. I take another drink from a glass of wine before standing. I can feel the effects of all this alcohol flowing through my veins. “Julie, come on.” I drag my friend onto the dance floor because I’m suddenly uneasy being around Connor.

  “What’s wrong with you? You couldn’t get away from the table quick enough.”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  I glance over my shoulder and, even in this crowded club, his presence is compelling. Why am I only now noticing this?

  “Oh, I see why.” Yes, she does, and so do I.

  A SENSE OF FAMILIARITY SURROUNDS me and I find myself smiling. That means I’m in my own bed. I open my eyes and give them a moment to adjust to the bright light coming through the bedroom window.

  The sun shines brightly in the sky outside and birds are singing, but everything in the house sounds oddly quiet considering Connor is staying here. He can usually be heard whistling or just moving around, but nothing. Does that mean he didn’t stay here last night?

  Oh God, last night . . .

  I try to refresh my memory, but I can’t. There’s nothing there. The last thing I remember is after the second or was it third round of shots? I must’ve been in such a state. The last thing I remember is being on the dance floor and looking over my shoulder and seeing Connor watching me. And then absolutely nothing.

  How did I get home? Did Connor have to look after me again? Carry my drunken arse up the stairs?

  Getting drunk is one thing, but I always remember the events of the night, but this is alien to me. And that’s also a good word to describe how I’m feeling. I sit up, the covers lower, and I notice I have no top on. Shit! I lift the covers and see I’m only wearing knickers. What the hell?

  I look across this small room and the dress I had on is folded on the dressing table. That tells me someone had to undress me. I cringe. Please let it have been Julie, but if it had been my friend, I’m sure my clothes would be lying in a heap on the floor. So the question is, who put me to bed?

  I don’t want to get up. I want to lie here, but my head is spinning and I feel as though I want to throw up. I have the hangover from hell. What a way to start a Sunday. I don’t even know what time of the day it is. I lean over, looking for my phone, and it’s right where I leave it every other night; beside the bed. At least I managed to do that. Picking it up, I see there are a few text messages and a missed call from my dad only thirty minutes ago. It’s one p.m. I’ll call him back as soon as I’ve showered and grabbed myself a strong blac
k coffee.

  Julie has texted. You call me as soon as you’re in the land of the living. The sooner the better!!!

  Oh, no. What have I done? I’m not sure I want to know.

  Everyone can wait until I’m showered. I climb out of bed and stand on unsteady legs. My entire body shakes and the room spins.

  Bloody hell, I’m never drinking again.

  Pulling my t-shirt over my head, I at least look clean. I still feel like crap, but that’s to be expected when you have next to no memory of the night before. My first task of the day is done. Now time for the second. I need to go downstairs and make myself a coffee.

  The house is still quiet; no sound of movement or life. As I pass Connor’s bedroom, the door is open. I peak in and he’s not there, but his bed is made. He must be downstairs. I hope I haven’t made a complete arse of myself.

  In the kitchen, there’s no sign of Connor, but there are two mugs and plates sitting near the sink and the kettle is still warm. So, Connor and who else? And where are they now?

  I switch the kettle on and wander over to the patio doors and open them. Warm air hits me from outside. I step out onto the deck and breathe in. It’s a gorgeous day. A day that should be made the most of because we don’t get many. When I make my coffee, I’m going to grab a pair of sunglasses and come out here to sit for a bit. I hear the kettle and go back inside.

  I make my coffee, help myself to a couple of chocolate biscuits, and head back outside with my sunglasses because it’s too bright for my eyes.

  It seems funny sitting out here with my coffee with a hangover, especially when the last time I was sitting here only a few days ago, I was in floods of tears, wondering what the hell I was going to do. Wondering how I was going to make ends meet. But even feeling the way I do today, everything is so much better.

  A wise woman said to me when I was still a child that, ‘There is always something good, even in a bad situation. It’s just about looking in the right places.’ I take a deep breath and stare out; my mum was right. She was right about most things, although I’m not sure she would find something good about Donovan and the current situation.

  Time to call my dad. The phone rings a few times before he answers. “Afternoon,” I say, surprising myself with how cheery I sound.

  “Well, you sound much better. Did you have a good night?”

  “What I can remember of it.”

  “Ella . . .”

  “Don’t. It was a one off. I don’t make a habit of getting drunk.”

  “No, you don’t. Are your brother and Connor at yours yet?”

  “No, why?”

  “They left not long ago. They had been out for a run and stopped in here, so they should be with you soon.”

  “Ah, okay.” That will explain the mugs and plates. They’ve obviously had some breakfast. I wonder if Callum stayed here last night.

  “Now, what I was calling you for . . . I’m glad you made the effort to go out last night. Can you imagine my surprise when I picked up this morning’s papers to see my daughter on the front page looking so much better?”

  “What? Oh, no. I presume I’m with Connor?” My thoughts are of our arrival at Blaze last night.

  “Yes and, you know what? I’m glad. You’ve been hiding away for far too long because of that waste of space, so why shouldn’t you be out and about with someone?”

  “Dad . . . Connor is my friend.” I knew this was bound to happen but I did hope the pictures wouldn’t have made today’s papers. I want some peace. Tomorrow would’ve been time enough. This means Donovan will see these pictures sooner too. Or maybe he’s just not that interested in what I’m doing.

  “Yes, I know he is, but I can h. . . . Look, the pictures will do what they’re meant to do and that is letting the world see you’re not hiding. Because, at the moment, everyone thinks you’re doing that because Donovan has been cheating on you.”

  “And has he?”

  “Sweetheart, you need to decide that for yourself. Will it make any difference to you now if he has or hasn’t?”

  Will it? I pause briefly before answering. “No. Our relationship was over the day he left me with all these problems. Maybe it was over long before he left.”

  “So, what are you doing the rest of the day?”

  “Nothing. I have a hangover.”

  “What about going out for dinner with your old man?”

  “Just the two of us?”

  “Yes.”

  “You, old man, have a date.” I can hear the amusement in his voice as he tells me what time he’ll pick me up before we end our call. Two nights out in a row. Nothing like causing speculation. It’ll be nice to spend time with my dad. Since Mum died, I’ve seen each day with my dad as a blessing and we’re really close. Or rather, we were, until I decided to keep the situation with Donovan from him. I know Dad won’t hold it against me.

  Putting my feet up on the opposite chair, I take a drink of my coffee before I even think about calling Julie. I bet she only wanted to tell me all about today’s papers. Talking from inside the house grabs my attention. It must be my brother and Connor. I stay where I am. If they want me, they can come outside. I’m relaxed and comfortable sitting in the sunshine, and moving would take so much effort on my part.

  After a few minutes, I hear their footsteps on the deck. “Well, it looks like someone has a hangover,” Callum says with a laugh, pulling the chair my feet are on and sitting down.

  “Hey! I was comfortable.”

  “Yeah? You also looked comfortable when I tried to wake you to come for a run with us.”

  I laugh and almost spit my coffee all over him. “Yeah, even if I had woken up that was never going to happen.” I put my coffee down and lean back in my chair. Going for a run. Is my brother mad after the amount I had to drink last night? Movement at the side of me catches my attention and, when I turn to look, I’m so glad my sunglasses are still on. He stands there looking devilishly handsome. Everything about Connor Andrews is in proportion. My hidden eyes travel the length of his body. His mouth curves into an unconscious smile as he watches me with deep brooding eyes; he knows what I’m doing.

  Connor moves toward the table, shirtless. His t-shirt is in one hand and coffee cup in the other. His shorts are sitting low-ish on his hips, giving me a perfect view.

  Oh. Dear. Lord.

  I turn away quickly before my face reddens. “Did you enjoy your run?” I ask.

  “Yip. You should’ve joined us,” says Connor, taking a seat. His hair is damp and beads of sweat line his forehead. “It would’ve done you the world of good.”

  “Eh, I don’t think so. What are the plans today?” I ask, changing the subject. Even on a good day, I don’t go running. It’s not something I enjoy. But maybe I should . . .

  “Not sure yet. We wanted to see what you were doing,” Callum says.

  “I’m going to dinner later with Dad, but until then I’m doing nothing but sitting on my arse.”

  “So you’ve spoken to him?” I nod. “Good. I can show you this then.” Connor hands me a newspaper he was hiding under his sweaty t-shirt.

  I study the front page picture and I don’t know what to say. I look okay, considering everything, but what’s holding my attention is Connor. The look in his eye as he looks at me while my attention is focused on whoever was taking the picture. I stare at the picture for a few long drawn out moments as silence fills the air around us.

  Julie is right. This has to be the reason she wants to talk.

  Should I even read the story that goes with the picture? I should find out what is being said about me.

  Ella McGregor has finally made her first public appearance since speculation began about the trouble in her relationship with Donovan Bell. She was enjoying a night out with her brother and friends at Glasgow’s exclusive Blaze nightclub, owned by the wealthy American Alexander Mathews.

  Callum McGregor even hinted that his sister would be giving an interview in the coming weeks to end the s
peculation surrounding her and Mr Bell.

  Miss McGregor may have some news of her own to share. As our picture shows Miss McGregor looked very comfortable and relaxed in the arms of Donovan’s best friend, Scottish actor Connor Andrews.

  Both Mr Andrews and Miss McGregor looked happy in each other’s company. Sources close to the couple tell us they will be starring in a movie together and our very own Scottish soap opera wants both actors to join the cast.

  I stop reading because my eyes can’t focus on the words. They keep drifting to the picture of me and Connor.

  “Come on, sis. Say something.”

  I lift my head and avoid looking at Connor, “What do you want me to say?”

  “I don’t know, but I thought you would have something to say. You must really have a hangover.” He laughs.

  “Don’t talk to me about hangovers. I don’t even remember coming home.”

  “I’m not surprised.” I know I need to turn to his voice but I don’t want to. “Ella?”

  “What?” I snap, finally turning to face him.

  “You know what? Forget it. Maybe you should go and lie back down so you’re in a better mood when you go out with your dad.” Connor turns and walks back inside.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  I take my sunglasses off and look at my brother, studying his expression for a moment. “Callum, is there anything you’d like to tell me?” I ask him, but I already know he’s keeping something from me and probably has been for some time. Why am I the last to know? Who else knew Connor has feelings for me?

  My brother squirms under my gaze. He leans forward in the chair. “I can’t lie to you. Connor cares about you, always has, and I’m sure always will. Does Donovan know? I’m sure he does, although it’s never been spoken about. I’ve seen the look of sadness and regret in his eyes each time he’s had to look at you and Donovan together over the years.”

  So not only did my best friend know, but Callum too.

  “Ella, I know you have a shit tonne of stuff going on and you might think those sunglasses hid the shocked look on your face when you saw that picture of you both, but it didn’t. You finally saw what everyone else sees when you two are together. I have no idea what, if anything, you’ll do, but the one thing I know is that Connor Andrews loves you but he will always be your friend, if that’s all you want from him. Right now, we all want you to get your life back on the track you want it to be. I want my sister back. The one I had fun with last night. The one who was always strong and independent. Not the one who has let a man dictate her life, and don’t try and deny it because we both know he’s done that.”