Dazzled

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Dazzled Page 28

by Jane Harvey-Berrick


  She unbolted the backdoor, a guilty expression on her face.

  “Mum! You were smoking!” I said in an accusing voice, looking sternly at her.

  “It was just one,” she said. “It’s been a stressful few days.”

  “You nearly killed me when you caught me smoking!”

  “You were 15 – and it’s a horrible habit to start. Besides, I’m your mother. Come here and give me a hug.”

  “I don’t know, mum, you smell all smoky.”

  She slapped my arm. “Don’t be cheeky!”

  I laughed and she pulled me into a real bone crusher.

  “I was so proud of you last night,” she said, into my chest. “So proud. Not just the film, but the way you looked after that awful girl, too.”

  She looked up at me, and I felt my lungs tighten at the mention of Lilia.

  “I know, love, I do. Believe me, but it was the right thing to do.” There was a pause as she looked me up and down. “I take it you’ve come from next door.”

  I nodded.

  “From Clare?”

  I couldn’t help grinning when she gave an excited squeak.

  “Really? You and Clare?”

  “Yeah. I know it’s weird and…”

  “Rubbish!” she snorted. “The only weird thing is that it’s taken you two all this time to work it out.”

  I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.

  “You’re happy.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  “Yeah, really happy. She’s just…”

  I didn’t know what words to use to describe Clare or how I felt about her. My admiration for scriptwriters grew by the second – they always knew what to say.

  I stayed for a quick coffee, and mum filled me in on what the lawyers had said about a likely moving date to her new house.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to get back for that, mum. There’s a whole load of publicity stuff I’m contracted to do. I mean, maybe, but…”

  “Don’t worry, love. I don’t expect you to. Sheila and Graham have already offered to help. So has Clare. I’ll be fine.”

  That made me feel worse. Not that they were helping, but they were doing what I should be there to do.

  Yeah, I was a lucky bastard in so many ways, but some things – like missing your mum’s big day – that sucked.

  I got a few odd looks as I walked to the tube station. Probably the fact that I was still wearing my tux, or maybe the fact that I didn’t have a coat. Or it could have been because there was a bloody great nine foot high poster advertising Dazzled at the station’s entrance. It still felt strange. It didn’t feel like the guy in that photograph was me.

  The train was crowded with people standing, but not really busy like it could get – not so close that you had your back shoved against somebody’s rancid armpit. Trust me, for the London underground in summer, you need a biohazard suit.

  My mind drifted back to Clare, and I knew I had this huge, goofy smile on my face. I couldn’t help it.

  Then I saw the newspaper that the guy standing next to me was reading. The front page had a photograph of the crowd at the premiere and close-ups of people yelling at Lilia. It looked bad in the stills photograph; it had been a helluva lot worse to be there. The headline said, ‘Angel to Devil – Lilia Under Fire’.

  The guy flipped the page over, and inside there was a strip of photographs showing the whole event, moment by moment, shot by shot. This time the headline had my name in it: ‘White Knight Miles Better’.

  Fun-nee.

  The guy probably felt me reading the paper over his shoulder because he glanced up, an irritated expression on his face. Then his eyes crossed and he did this comic double take. I knew I had about two seconds before he said something. Thank God the train was pulling into the station at Hyde Park Corner.

  I pushed my way to the doors and had just managed to jump off when I heard him call out, “Hey, man!”

  Too slow, sucker.

  The winter afternoon sun felt bright compared to the gloom of the underground station, and I walked briskly through the park, my breath weaving like smoke through the winter air. Jeez, it was cold. I’d gotten, um, become so used to LA weather, I’d forgotten that London in December was cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. I shoved my hands in my pockets and picked up the pace, then risked life and limb crossing the busy road in front of the hotel…

  …And walked straight into an ambush of photographers.

  “It’s him! Miles! Miles! Over here!” Bloody hell!

  “Are you and Lilia together again?” Fuck, no!

  “Are you in love with Lilia?” NO!

  “Is it true she’s pregnant?” What the fuck?

  “How do you like London?” Seriously?

  “Have you forgiven her, Miles?” Fuck off.

  “How does it feel to be a hero?” Arsehole.

  “When are you filming the sequel?” Who gives a flying fuck?

  “What do you think of British girls, Miles?” Tosser.

  “Have you been with Lilia? Did you spend the night?” Mind your own fucking business.

  “Where were you last night?” Sod off.

  “What do you think of the new Prime Minister of Australia?” What?!

  Fucking hell!

  I put my head down and tried to get through without punching anyone, as they pushed their cameras right into my face. Some of them were deliberately shoving into me and trying to get a rise. Pictures like that would have been worth a lot more.

  The doorman tried to clear the entrance with one arm and create a space with the other as I inched toward him.

  Finally, I fell into the lobby, breathing hard, and feeling like I’d been mugged.

  The door swung shut behind me, but I could still hear the calls and yells, softened by the barrier of glass.

  “Are you alright, sir?” the doorman asked, looking genuinely concerned.

  “Shit! That was… thanks, mate. I mean it, thank you.”

  He gave a small smile. “That’s quite alright, sir. Just doing my job.”

  I was definitely making sure he had a fucking fantastic after-Christmas bonus.

  As my heart rate started to return to something like normal, I realized that everyone in the lobby was staring at me, although several discreetly turned away when I caught their gaze.

  Then I saw Melody walking toward me – she didn’t look happy. She jerked her head quickly and took my elbow, steering me behind a pillar and into a small alcove furnished with a plush settee and an aspidistra.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, fine,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck to relieve some of the tension. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Well, yes,” and she paused. “Have you seen the papers? You’ve made quite an impression: hence the welcoming committee.”

  I threw her an irritated glance.

  “You weren’t answering your phone,” she said, a slight note of accusation in her voice.

  “I left it in my room before the premiere.”

  I’d answered automatically before it occurred to me how much information I’d just given her, bearing in mind I was still dressed in last night’s clothes.

  “I see,” she said shortly, glancing up and down at my wrinkled tux. “Well, your interview will be in the Park Suite Right, ground floor. One hour. They’ve been told not to ask about your private life or who you’re dating, but you’d better be prepared to talk about last night. We need to rehearse.”

  “Yeah, yeah, sure. Just give me 20 minutes.”

  She nodded. “Twenty minutes. And Miles… wear a clean shirt.”

  Her mouth hinted at the ghost of a smile, and I grinned back at her.

  “Yeah, that I can do.”

  The shower was just what I needed to calm down, but it would have been a thousand times better if Clare had been there, too.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The more time that passed, the more dreamlike the whole night se
emed. A small pinch of concern made my heart rate spike. I hoped like hell she wasn’t going to change her mind once she’d had time to think about it. I wouldn’t blame her if she did.

  I resented having to do another round of goddamn interviews, but I reminded myself it was part of the job, and beat being unemployed and living off baked beans and instant soup. Something I remembered all too well.

  Even so, I didn’t bother shaving but in deference to Melody, I dug out a clean shirt, as instructed, and found a pair of jeans that seemed presentable. Anyway, they’d be filming me above the waist – I could have worn lederhosen and no one would notice. Well, the interviewers might.

  I’d just run some gel through my hair when Melody knocked on my door. And, God bless her, she’d brought room service with her and a cafetiere of coffee.

  “I thought you’d need it and I damn well know I do,” she said.

  “Have I told you how bloody wonderful you are?”

  She smiled. “No, but I’ll remind you on my next invoice.”

  Melody went through the list of probable questions based on the topics provided for the interviewers. Then she helped me prepare answers and, finally, escorted me to the room where the interviews were being held. Hell, maybe she was even going to sit there and hold my hand, or get ready to hoick my foot out of my mouth, should the need arise. She probably sensed that my personal safety catch was on the verge of being released, and she didn’t know whether or not my trigger finger was getting twitchy.

  Cameras, lights and recording equipment were already in place, and the first interviewer was touching up her lipstick when we walked in. She gave me a killer smile and licked her lips.

  Shit.

  It was going to be a long afternoon.

  Clare

  As soon as Miles left, I went back to bed and slept for three hours. I was knackered, exhausted, worn out, used up, fatigued, tuckered out and just plain tired.

  But looking on the positive side, my vocabulary was in better shape.

  Frankly, if I was going to be having sex with Miles on a regular basis, (and I couldn’t help looking around for a black cat so it could accidentally on purpose run across my path), I was going to have to do something about my level of fitness. Not that I had a level. A couple of basements, perhaps.

  I mean, I’d been flat on my back most of the night, although not the entire time, but I was still weary beyond words. Miles, on the other hand, looked like he’d just had eight hours of uninterrupted beauty sleep when he walked into my parents’ kitchen.

  But you know – so what if I was five foot nothing and weighed 140 pounds? Miles was beautiful enough for both of us.

  He could have had a supermodel. Hell, he probably had had a couple of supermodels – maybe at the same time. But he’d chosen me – and after waiting all these years, I was not letting him go. If the world ended tomorrow, they’d have to pry me off him with a grappling hook.

  Hmm. Grappling with Miles.

  Yeah, sorry. Hard to stay on track.

  The point was, he was mine.

  Of course, that wasn’t what the newspapers were saying. Most of them were carrying front page pictures of Miles charging into the crowd to save Lilia, and they’d all leapfrogged to the same conclusion.

  The online accounts were even more fanciful.

  “A source close to the couple said, ‘They’re in a really good place right now. He’s forgiven Lilia, and they’re more in love than ever before’.”

  Ugh. Vomit.

  What ‘source’? How did they make up this crap and keep a straight face? It was such bollocks! Sheer fabrication, because nobody knew the truth except me and Miles. Oh, and mum and dad. Probably Prue, too. But that was all. Oh, and Lilia – she knew how he really felt.

  But then I saw something that made my stomach drop into my shoes, by way of my bed socks.

  “They’re really looking forward to working together again on the sequel to ‘Dazzled’. They met making the first film, and that was a very special time for them. They’re hoping that they’ll rekindle their magic on set.”

  A sequel?! That was the first I’d heard of it. Miles hadn’t mentioned a sequel. Why the hell hadn’t he said anything about that to me? How could he face working with that cheating chav again?

  I tried not to stay angry, but I was upset.

  I was the last to know, and that hurt.

  Miles

  It was nearly four o’clock and I’d had enough of talking. Besides, the questions were all the same:

  “How did you enjoy the premiere?”

  “What made you walk into the crowd like that?”

  “What do you think of your fans now?”

  “How’s Lilia this morning?”

  “What will it be like working on the sequel with her?”

  “What else are you working on?”

  The answers were all the same, too…

  Good.

  It seemed the right thing to do.

  Great.

  Fine, I think.

  A sequel hasn’t been confirmed.

  Nothing definite.

  …but with a lot more smiling, and a few dumb jokes like they expected from me.

  I’d done so many of these short interviews now that I was practically on autopilot.

  But the last question of the day threw me.

  “So, Miles, I hear you’re getting married. What can you tell me about that?”

  How the fuck did she know? I hadn’t even asked Clare yet?

  She must have seen the shock on my face, and the bint smiled, pleased with herself.

  And then I realized that she hadn’t got a clue about Clare – the stupid bitch was trying to get some shock value out of her pathetic question.

  “I think that’s enough questions for today,” Melody said, quickly.

  I appreciated her help, but I was putting the fucking lid on that line of questioning.

  “No, I’d like to answer that one,” I interrupted.

  The interviewer looked like she was having an orgasm.

  “I don’t know where you heard that, Carmel,” I said, my voice controlled and level, “but it’s completely wrong. I’m not even dating anyone at the moment. Anyone.”

  She looked faintly disappointed and then a look of calculation followed it.

  “Well, that was a great interview. Thanks, Miles. Maybe you and I can go… somewhere and grab a cup of coffee?”

  “Sorry, no can do. I’ve got wall to wall meetings, but thanks, Carmel.”

  She looked annoyed – not that I gave a flying fuck.

  “Maybe next time you’re in London.”

  “I always like being interviewed by you, Carmel,” I said, a huge fake smile on my face.

  Stupid cow believed it, fluttering her eyelashes and pouting.

  Even Melody raised her eyebrows and shook her head in amusement.

  “Well, that was entertaining,” she said, once we left the room. “You’re getting good at this, Miles.” Then, more sincerely, “How are you holding up?”

  I was tired of people asking me that, but yeah, I understood why they did it. And I knew Melody wasn’t just being nosy. I trusted her – she’d given me my break.

  “I’m okay. It’s just when people say crap like that, it pisses me off. But yeah, I’m fine.”

  “And how are things with Lilia?”

  I pulled a face.

  “That good?”

  “Ha, well… I’d be happy if I never had to have anything to do with her ever again.”

  “But you know you have to – for publicity?”

  “Yeah, I get that, Melody, believe me. And I don’t want to make your job harder… Actually, there was something I’ve been meaning to ask you?”

  “Oh? I’m intrigued.”

  “The contract with the studio?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do I have to do it if there’s a sequel to Dazzled?”

  She gave me a shrewd look.

  “Well, I’ve seen the co
ntract, obviously, but I’d have to check the fine print. I would suggest, however, that even if you’re not locked into a sequel – and I’d be surprised if you weren’t – you should think very carefully before you turned it down, simply because of… personal issues. Miles, you’re a young actor and you have great potential – that much is clear. But you’re at the beginning of your career, and you should think very hard about making a bad decision at this point.”

  “You think it would be a bad decision?”

  She leaned against the wall and sighed heavily.

  “Financially, yes. Professionally, that’s less clear-cut. The reviews for Dazzled are all good, particularly for your role. But part of my answer will depend on how your next project Lifers is perceived. It’s a tougher sell, but people need to know you can do more than fantasy and romance.”

  She was right, I knew she was right. But the thought of having to work with Lilia again – that sucked.

  “Do you still want me to investigate the contract?”

  “Yeah, please. Just so I know where I stand.”

  She smiled. “You’re learning, Miles.”

  I’d only been back in my room a couple of minutes when there was a knock at the door.

  I pulled it open, excited and, in all honesty, a bit nervous.

  Clare was standing there with a little scowl on her face that made me smile.

  When she stormed into the room, I felt my smile slip.

  “I suppose you were going to tell me that there was a sequel to Dazzled?” she snapped, her eyes sparking, and her mouth clamped into a hard line. “Perhaps it just slipped your mind?”

  “Well…”

  “Because it really pisses me off that I had to read in a bloody newspaper rather than to hear it from you!”

  “Hey, wait a minute!”

  “No, you wait! If we’re going to do this whole dating lark, then…”

  I was so happy to hear that she still wanted to date me that I shut her up the only way I could think of.

  I kissed her.

  As soon as our lips met, my body went into overdrive. I wanted to touch her everywhere. I wanted to feel her everywhere.

  Her hands flew up to my neck and gripped me hard.

  Then she pushed me away abruptly, leaving me panting like a dog.

  “You can’t distract me that easily!” she barked.

 

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