Aimee smiled back, hugging her best friend. ‘Thanks, Jemma. Hang on… you’re having a drink with Cal? What happened to Andy?’
‘Too slow on the uptake, Aimee. Cal made his move in Cannes so, as far as Andy Crabtree’s concerned, it’s his loss,’ she grinned, swishing her long dark hair back over her shoulders, grabbing her clutch bag and taking Aimee’s hand. ‘Come on. Let’s go. I’ll walk you to Sirocco’s, because I’m dying to see what Mr Pop Star is wearing for his first date with my very best and very beautiful friend.’
*
Rounding the corner of the corridor that led to the ships A la Carte restaurant, both Aimee and Jemma became aware of a slight commotion going on outside, both of them hurriedly taking a step back, hiding round the corner again, because the sight that met them made them burst into fits of giggles, although they doubted very much that Danny was laughing.
The poor sod was in the process of being mobbed by about a dozen or so members of the Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade – as Aimee and Jemma had nicknamed them – all resplendent in their customised T-shirts claiming they were “Mrs Johnson” or “Mrs Connor” in studded diamante across their chests and backs, pink Stetson’s balanced firmly on their heads as they threw themselves at Danny in search of an autograph or a kiss or some memento of their brief encounter outside Sirocco’s A la Carte restaurant aboard the MS Atlantica.
‘You’d better go rescue him, Chick,’ Jemma giggled, kissing Aimee quickly on the cheek. ‘I’ve got a date with his handsome band mate – hey, that rhymed! Get me! – and I don’t think Cal would appreciate me diverting any of this lot over to The Pub.’
‘Oh, I reckon they’ll sniff him out without you leading the way,’ Aimee smiled, a sudden wave of nerves hitting her that she tried to swallow back.
‘Good luck, kidda,’ Jemma whispered, giving Aimee’s hand a quick squeeze before she tottered off along the corridor in search of the nearest lift.
‘I think I’m gonna need it,’ Aimee said quietly, bracing herself to go break up the fan club meeting in front of her. ‘Okay. I can do this. I can do this.’
Slipping her black slim-line clutch bag firmly under her arm – maybe she could use that as a weapon if any of the Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade got too physical – and, taking one last deep breath, she rounded the corner as elegantly as she could in the heels she was wearing, walking over to Danny, who looked up as she approached with an expression of what could only be described as relief all over his face.
Suddenly, the crowd of fans surrounding Danny stopped throwing themselves at him, sensing somebody alien and not welcome in their circle had approached and, as they all slowly turned round, every single one of them threw Aimee a look that, quite frankly, could have turned milk sour at fifty paces.
‘Hi’, she smiled at Danny as the fan club retreated, throwing yet more looks that would – if they could – kill over their shoulders at Aimee, muttering away to each other in a very disagreeable manner.
‘Hi back,’ Danny said, brushing himself down, trying to regain his composure.
‘Are you alright?’ Aimee asked, watching as he ran his fingers through his hair, loving the way it all fell back into place perfectly. She wished hers would do that. ‘Only, you look a bit – flustered.’
‘That lot are lethal!’ he said, taking a deep breath, looking Aimee up and down before letting out a long, low whistle. ‘Wow! You look – amazing!’
Aimee felt that now-familiar blush start to spread over her neck and face again and she looked down at the ground briefly, trying to get her head round the fact that Danny Johnson had just told her she looked amazing. How many times had she sat in those arenas, screaming her head off, just wishing – more than anything in the world – that Danny Johnson would find her amazing? And now he’d just told her he thought that was exactly what she was. Amazing.
She slowly raised her head and looked at him, properly looked at him, and she actually had to take a deep breath to stop herself from letting out a little gasp because he looked nothing short of drop-dead-gorgeous. He was wearing black trousers and boots, a white shirt that only served to show his tanned skin off to perfection, and a black jacket, his dark hair in that lazy, laid back, unruly style that he’d always been known for and she particularly liked the way a few strands fell over those incredible blue eyes of his as he looked at her. She really felt as though she was living inside some kind of dream. She felt as though the real world had gone away for a while, leaving her here in this alternative universe with this amazing man – a one-time fantasy to many, including her, and now he was here, standing there in front of her. Looking like that. Totally gorgeous.
‘Everything okay?’ Danny asked, his voice pulling her back to reality.
‘Oh, God, yes. Sorry. Yeah, everything’s fine.’ She smiled at him, unable to stop herself. A big, happy, excited smile. ‘Everything is just fine.’
He smiled back, holding out his hand, which she took without a second’s hesitation. ‘Good. That’s good.’ His fingers closed around hers and she felt her stomach give that leap of anticipation again, letting those butterflies fly loose. ‘Shall we – shall we go inside?’ Danny asked, pulling her closer, kissing her oh-so-briefly on her slightly open mouth. ‘Although, to be honest, even though I am hungry, I’m just not sure whether it’s food I want, or…’
Aimee felt her stomach turn a thousand somersaults, and for one ridiculous, stupid second her mind wandered back to Robbie, and those few beautiful hours that had led up to the first time they’d made love – was that what was happening here? Of course it was, and she’d be stupid if she tried to pretend that this night was ever going to lead anywhere else.
Danny didn’t miss the confusion on her face and he let go of her, taking a step back, running a hand nervously through his hair. ‘I’m sorry. Am I moving too fast? I mean, I’ll completely understand if you… ‘ He looked right at her, those blue eyes staring deep into hers. ‘You probably think I’m some sort of – I dunno, I mean, I’m just some ex-pop star who’s trying to make a comeback but it’s obvious me ego still thinks it’s 1993, assuming I can pull a woman like you… assuming that a woman like you would want to be with me. A bit arrogant, huh?’
She shook her head, still smiling. ‘No. I don’t think so.’
He couldn’t help but smile too; this woman here in front of him was making him feel more relaxed than all those years of marriage to Davina had ever done.
‘I don’t think you’re in the least bit arrogant,’ Aimee whispered, sliding an arm round the back of his neck, lightly stroking it with her fingers. ‘I think you’re incredibly sexy, and I want you more than I can even begin to explain...’ Hang on. Had her body just been taken over by a soft-porn actress or something? Because she’d been sure those words had come out of her mouth without her even moving her lips. Oh, what the hell! In for a penny…
Danny smiled that killer smile, his hand resting lightly in the small of her back. Oh yeah. This night was going to mark the beginning of some full-on fun for Danny Johnson. Fuck you, Davina Black. As far as I’m concerned you’re nothing but a gold-digging bitch and you can go to hell. Danny Johnson is back on the market and he’s looking for a good time! ‘Shall we go grab some food, then, well; see what the rest of the night has to offer?’ He held out his hand again and Aimee took it, not sure she actually felt like eating anything but a few glasses of Dutch courage certainly wouldn’t go amiss.
‘I think that’s a perfect idea,’ she smiled, suddenly feeling like she’d just come up trumps on the lottery, but this felt way better than having millions of pounds in the bank. This felt so much better. Because tonight, she was going to hit the only jackpot she’d ever dreamed of winning.
11:35pm
Watching Bon Voyage’s performance in the Vegas Show Lounge that night was a very different experience for Aimee than their debut show had been a couple of days ago. Because a couple of days ago she hadn’t known what an incredible man Danny Johnson was. Oh, of course she’d d
aydreamed about the kind of people they’d wanted their pop idols to be, back in the days when they’d been nothing but unattainable objects of fantasy. But now Danny Johnson was very real, and she’d just experienced the best time with him over dinner. They’d laughed, shared stories of growing up in the same town, of summer holidays spent at The Spanish City – Whitley Bay’s once very famous but now defunct funfair – of eating fish and chips on the sea front and playing golf on The Links. They had so much in common, it was crazy! And maybe, if he hadn’t become this major pop star back then, they might even have met, hit it off, got married and had kids although, because of the eight year age difference between them, that had probably never really been very likely. But they were all things they’d talked about, laughed about, fantasised about over dinner. A dinner that Aimee would never forget.
And now, as she watched him up there on stage, the Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade throwing themselves – and assorted other things – at the lads as they danced and sang right there in front of them, Aimee could only sit there with a smile on her face that just refused to go away.
‘I hope you’re going to tell me just what went on over that dinner,’ Jemma said as Bon Voyage launched into their last song of the evening, one of their slower numbers, their big Christmas 1994 hit If Only I Had You.
‘Sorry? What?’ Aimee asked, slightly distracted by one of the Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade who’d made a run for it onto the stage, literally throwing herself at Frankie, who was almost knocked off his stool until one of the entertainment staff ran on and carried the screaming super-fan off into the wings, leaving most of the guests in the Vegas Show Lounge stunned, to say the least.
‘What went on between you and Danny over dinner? I hope you’re going to spill the beans, Missy. Has Operation Danny Boy been put into action yet or what?’
‘Maybe,’ Aimee smiled, turning her attention back to the stage, Danny’s eyes locking onto hers as he sang the words of a song that so many Bon Voyage fans had dreamt of him singing directly to them. And now he was doing just that, he was singing to her, Aimee Anderson. Danny Johnson was singing to her.
Jemma let out a little squeal, clapping her hands together like that excited toddler again. ‘Ooh, I so hoped this holiday would do you some good!’ She picked up her cocktail and took another sip. ‘This is Bon Voyage’s last song tonight so, are we going up to Hemingway’s for a debrief of your fabulous dinner date?’
Aimee looked up at the stage once more as the song came to an end, the Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade screaming hysterically, and Danny winked at her – possibly for a fourth time – sending her stomach into a spasm of pure delight that only made her smile grow wider. And Jemma got the message loud and clear.
‘Okay, hon. I get it. I guess I’m going to have to wait until breakfast before I get to hear all the gory details. Actually, if I wait until breakfast maybe there’ll be even more gory details!’
Aimee grabbed Jemma’s hand. ‘Jem, can you do us a favour? Please?’
‘Us?’ Jemma asked, narrowing her eyes.
‘Me and Danny, we… we want to be – how can I put this? – alone. If you get my drift.’
Jemma was about to let out another little squeal but instead slapped a hand over her mouth, lest any loud noise alert the Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade to their presence. And neither of them wanted to have to tackle their wrath. Doubtless any one of them would kill to be in Aimee’s position, it was just how literally they took the term “kill” that worried Aimee and Jemma. They were on a boat, after all. It was a lot harder to avoid crazy people on a boat. ‘The plan really is being put into action then?’
‘You bet your frigging life it is. All the way through dinner, all I could think about was what he was going to look like naked… Oh, God, does that make me sound like a complete slut? The fact I’m even considering sleeping with him?’
‘Christ, no. If it’d been me I’d have had him at least twice by now. As far as I’m concerned you’ve been taking things slow.’
Aimee giggled, a little too loudly, causing a couple of Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade members to turn around and throw her one of their looks, which only made Aimee and Jemma giggle even more.
‘Look, Jem, Danny he… Can you take Cal and keep him out of the way for a while? So we can have the cabin to ourselves?’
‘You don’t have to ask me twice, kidda,’ Jemma said, flipping open her compact and applying more lipstick. ‘I’m sure me and Mr Connor can find a way to keep ourselves amused while you and Danny get down to business.’
‘Don’t put it like that,’ Aimee shuddered, grabbing the compact from Jemma to check that her own make-up was still firmly in place. ‘You make it sound so cheap.’
They both looked at each other, suddenly bursting into fits of laughter. ‘Excited?’ Jemma giggled.
‘Excited!’ Aimee replied, that overwhelming feeling of anticipation flooding through her entire body. She hadn’t slept with anybody but Robbie Cartwright for so long now, and here she was about to get intimate with a one-time major pop star! If she thought about it for too long it actually made her feel quite sick.
‘You don’t have to say another word,’ Jemma smiled, snapping shut her clutch bag. ‘Just leave everything to me.’
Aimee felt the nerves start to build up inside her as they both stood up, a fleeting appearance of a few second thoughts making themselves known. ‘Jemma – is this a really stupid thing to do? I mean, what if we sleep together then that’s it, he’s got what he wanted and he moves onto the next one? That’s what used to happen back in the day, after all, wasn’t it? He had a reputation for that. And what about the fact he’s still married… Oh, God, I really am a complete slut, aren’t I?’
Jemma slipped her arm through Aimee’s as they walked out of the Show Lounge. ‘Listen to me, Chick. You’ve just got to throw caution – and your knickers, if that’s what it takes – to the wind and start living your life again. Take it for what it is and do what you feel is the right thing to do, okay? If you want to sleep with him – oh God, I think I’ve come out in a hot flush just thinking about that body of his – then sleep with him. But only if you want to. Just have some bloody fun, kidda. And forget about Davina Black, I’ve told you, that’s all but over.’
‘Yeah. That’s what Danny said too.’
‘Well, there you go then. You’ve heard it direct from the horse’s mouth.’
‘Yeah, but he could just be saying that, couldn’t he? So’s he gets a bit of action while he’s here on this cruise, away from the wife.’
Jemma rolled her eyes. ‘Jesus, Aimee, will you just stop over-analysing everything. Please. Look where we are; look at what’s happening here. If anyone had told us back in 1993, when we’d skipped college and were freezing to death in the queue outside Whitley Bay Ice Rink so’s we could grab a spot near the front for their Christmas concert, do you remember? – if anyone had told us back then that one day we’d actually be hanging out with Bon Voyage we’d have laughed in their faces, wouldn’t we? But we’re doing it, hon. It’s real, it’s happening, and you have to grab this chance with both beautifully manicured hands. You owe it to all those fans out there. You owe it to them to live your dream.’
Aimee looked at Jemma. ‘You don’t think it’s a really slutty thing to do then?’
‘Of course I do. And I’m jealous as hell!’ Jemma practically pushed Aimee out of the double doors, both of them giggling like those teenage fans they’d been back in the day, standing still for a few seconds as they watched a large chunk of the Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade run past them, chattering excitedly, stopping only briefly to throw another of their now trademark filthy looks at Aimee and Jemma before stampeding down the corridor, probably on their way to their regular haunt – Revival, the ships nightclub – for their nightly couple of hours of old school music and dancing. ‘Now, you need to go get your man,’ Jemma giggled. ‘Before one of them gets to him first.’
Aimee took a deep breath, checking her reflection one more time in t
he mirrored panel by the Show Lounge entrance. ‘Do I look okay?’
‘You look fabulous, darling,’ Jemma winked. ‘Now, go on. Go grab yourself one hot, sexy piece of fun!’
*
Danny closed the cabin door behind them, wondering whether he should have taken her for a drink first before they’d come here. Did it look a bit desperate, bringing her straight back to the cabin? Shit! He was crap at this kind of thing. He hadn’t really done anything like this since Davina, and even then she’d instigated everything. He should have seen that as a warning sign back then, really, shouldn’t he?
Shoving his hands in his pockets he stood nervously in the doorway, watching as she looked around the small but surprisingly tidy cabin he shared with Cal. He was only glad he’d remembered to clean up before he’d come out, making sure Cal hadn’t left any unwanted mess lying around either. Christ, that made him sound as though he’d planned this all along. And maybe he had, subconsciously. But it was always best to think ahead, wasn’t it?
‘It’s tidier than ours,’ Aimee smiled, finally standing still, turning round to look at him.
‘Did you expect us to be living in a pig sty?’ Danny asked, a smile on his face too. She had a habit of making him feel instantly relaxed, which was a Godsend right now.
‘Yeah. Kind of,’ she laughed, throwing her bag down onto the dressing-table next to the small flat-screen TV. ‘Look, Danny, thank you for tonight. Dinner, it was – it was lovely.’
‘Tonight’s not over yet though, is it?’
She looked at him, part of her just wanting to rip that tight white shirt off his back and live out a thousand and more womens’ fantasies, despite the fact there was also a tiny part of her that just wanted to get out of there and run back to the safety of her own cabin. Because she was scared. But she was going to ignore that part and, instead, concentrate on just why they were both here. Together. Looking for exactly the same thing.
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