Starshine
Page 20
“No.” I shook my head at the ridiculousness of his question.
“Amy is.” He sank down into the centre of the sofa. His large frame seemed more obvious as he placed each of his arms along the back of the cushions.
“You think Amy’s scared of him?” I said. “I don’t think so. If anything, she still thinks she’s in love with him.”
“If you say so.”
I nodded.
“I’ll tell you what, Ella. I’ve already told you that I like you. I think you’re a decent lass who’s just got caught up in all this madness. I also know a little bit about Alex. I’ve never seen him act like this before with anyone. I don’t know what you’ve done to him, but something has changed.” He paused, obviously enjoying the dramatic delivery of his words. “And I’ve changed my mind. I’m willing to tell you what Amy said. I think you deserve to know.”
I frowned, unsure what his plan was.
“Apparently, you caught Alex in his dressing room with Tessa Adams today. They were in a rather compromising situation. Tessa backs her story up.”
I laughed. Amy sure was the nastiest person I had ever come across. Luckily, my laughter at the lengths that Amy would go to was read by Anthony as one of disbelief.
“I didn’t think it was true. Even Alex is not that stupid.”
I raised my eyebrows at his assumption.
“Ella, I’m a reporter, and a photographer. I used to be a private investigator, but this line of work pays better. If Alex lived the life Amy says he does, a different woman every week, I strongly suspect his medical records would show some kind of evidence to support that life style.”
My jaw dropped. “You checked his private medical records?”
“And yours. You’re clean as well.”
I stood up. I was leaving. I was completely flabbergasted that he’d sink to such levels.
“Ella, please. I think Amy is the guilty one in all this. But she’s careful and clever. I can’t get a thing on her. God knows I’ve tried.”
“Have you checked her medical records?” I practically growled.
He nodded his head. “It seems all her records went missing a couple of years ago. Just after the first film became popular.”
“That figures.”
Anthony chuckled. “Sit back down, please.”
“No. Look, I’m sorry, I need to go. I shouldn’t have even come in here.”
“Ella, I’ll be honest with you. I’ve never liked Amy. She’s a jumped up nasty piece of work. She always makes out that she’s all sweet and innocent. I don’t believe it. If you have anything on her, I’ll more than willingly print it. But I’m also interested in speaking to you, and Alex. I’d like to get his side of the story. He’s never spoken to any of us. I feel that he’s been made out as the bad guy in all this, but it doesn’t fit. He’ll always sell papers, and you will at the moment as well. Everyone wants to be you.”
I doubted that anyone would want to be me. “Look, I’m not prepared to commit to telling you anything until I’ve spoken to Alex. Maybe he’ll be willing to chat with you, but I doubt it. I can’t make promises that I have no idea I can keep. I’ll speak to him when I get the chance. That’s the best I can do.”
“And you’re not prepared to spill the beans about Amy, even though she had no hesitation bad mouthing you and Alex?”
I shook my head. “I’m not going there, Anthony. It’s not my place to say anything about her.”
Anthony nodded. “Can you just confirm one thing for me?”
I eyed him warily. “What?”
“Is Alex the shit that Amy makes him out to be, or is he really the person the public see?”
I recalled my first impressions of him. “Alex can be a complete ass. But he is also one of the most loyal and caring people I have ever met. I almost wish that he would open up to the media and tell them the truth.”
“Well, you know where I am. Tell him that I’m here whenever he wants to talk.”
“I will.” I had no idea whether Alex would ever be willing to speak to the press, but if he spoke to anyone, then Anthony seemed the ideal person to open up to. But I was more concerned about him printing the story that Amy had told him. “Are you running the story she gave you about Alex and Tessa?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t think I can now. I need to keep you and Alex sweet, don’t I? If I print what she’s told me, then there’s no way either of you will be willing to talk freely to me.”
“Very true,” I said as I made my way to his door.
He ran in front of me and opened the door. “Please, speak to Alex. I’m serious about wanting to talk to him and hear his side of everything.”
I stepped into the hallway. “I’ll try.”
As I reached the bottom step I spun around.
“Hey, Anthony, have you got any milk you can give me. Mine will have gone off by now. The electric meter will have clicked off. I don’t keep it well fed.” Staying at Alex’s last night meant that I’d not topped it up. The few things I had in my fridge would need to be binned.
“Electricity meters, huh? Stupid things. If you ever run out of pound coins, just buzz me. I’ve loads.” He disappeared back into his flat before coming back with a carton of milk and a carrier bag.
“I got those just for you.”
I was about to peer into the bag when he stopped me. “Wait until you get upstairs.”
“Thanks,” I added, wearily.
“See you later, Ella!” he shouted as I began the climb up the stairs.
The coldness in my flat hit me as I crossed the floor toward the meter. The candles that I had lit the other night were still dotted around the room, a poignant reminder of the evening Alex had spent here. I could still smell his cologne lingering lightly in the air. I breathed deeply, already missing him.
I reached into my purse, and retrieved several coins to feed the meter. Everything whirred into action. The fridge coughed to life and the main light lit the room in a bright glow. I ambled into the kitchen and placed the carton of milk in the fridge and Anthony’s bag on the counter before filling the kettle up with water, and leaving it to boil. I needed a mug of tea, even though I wanted wine. Getting drunk wasn’t the most sensible option. I needed a clear head to think, not an emotional roller-coaster of doubt and self-pity.
Whilst I was waiting for the kettle, I opened the bag that Anthony had given me. I grinned as the contents spilled onto the kitchen counter. He must have gone into the pharmacy after I’d spoken to him yesterday evening. There was a box of condoms just like the ones I’d bought, and a jar of chocolate body paint. There was also about ten pounds’ worth of coins for the meter.
Anthony was a reporter and would possibly sell his soul for a story, but underneath it all he seemed like a nice guy. I picked up the coins, tipping them into my currently empty meter jar before heading to the bathroom.
An hour later, I emerged from my long soak in the bath. I’d washed my hair, and shaved every bit of scruff off my legs. I was grateful that I had, only last week, paid a beautician to wax my bikini line and under my arms. The pain I had experienced seemed a distant memory now, and I was still silky smooth.
I felt like a new woman, well—almost. The nagging doubt about Wednesday, and watching Alex simulating sex with Amy was still eating away at me. I’d decided not to watch them together before we’d argued. Now that we weren’t talking to each other, I still wasn’t convinced.
I dialled a pizza from my usual favourite takeaway, knowing that the wait would only be a short one, and resisted the urge to switch my laptop on. I’d only become more paranoid at anything I read. I strongly suspected that I’d find out several supposed facts about myself that even I didn’t know. Erin’s words rang around my head.
‘Don’t look at the internet, lick your wounds and then prepare for battle.’
I’d lick my wounds tonight, try to get a good night’s sleep, and then prepare for Wednesday. I didn’t like the reference to a battle, bu
t perhaps it was the right word for what was surely to come.
I headed back into the kitchen and made another mug of tea. The condoms were still on the kitchen counter. I smiled at Anthony’s present. Intrusive as it was, I found it quite sweet. But it only proved how easily people talked to the press about others. It was going to be difficult for me to go anywhere or do anything now that I was associated with Alex. The whole thing was crazy, particularly now that I wasn’t with him.
I sipped my tea, narrowing my eyes as the hot liquid burnt my mouth. I hoped that if things got sorted with Alex, then when he came back from LA, I’d treat him to a night back here where I would spoil him rotten. If Amy was as cold as Alex said she was, then I would prove that I was the complete opposite.
There was an unexpected knock at my door, not the customary buzz of someone calling through the internal buzzer system.
I frowned as I cautiously opened my door.
“Anthony!” I exclaimed.
“Long time, no see. I bring pizza.” He held the pizza box in front of his chest. “I grabbed it from the delivery boy to save you coming all the way downstairs.”
“Thanks,” I offered, taking the box from him. “But you had no need to do that.”
I could see him looking past me into my flat. I pulled the door toward me, blocking his view.
“Not inviting me in to your humble lair then, Ella?”
I shook my head. “Nope, sorry.”
“No worries. I’ll just head back to my mess downstairs, and have my cheese on toast.”
A laugh flew from my mouth at his teasing. He had inadvertently reminded me of the meal Alex had prepared last night. Was it only last night when I had been wrapped up with Alex in his bed? I quickly stopped laughing.
“Are you okay?” Anthony asked. “Did I say something stupid?”
“No, Anthony. It’s not you. There are a lot of things going on at the moment that are out of my control.”
“You can tell me all about them. I’ll not tell a soul.”
I snorted. “Yeah, right. And if I let you in to share this pizza, I doubt I’ll get one slice. Let me get you the number, you can call for one of your own.”
I stepped back into my flat, intending to fetch the takeaway menu for him.
I should have realised that he wouldn’t stay outside, that his inquisitive nature would take over.
“This is the love nest then?” He edged his way across the room toward me. “I like it. No windows, perfect hideaway.”
“Out!” I ordered. “You keep pushing me like this and I’ll never talk to you about anything.”
He held his hand up in front of his body as backed up toward the door. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”
I followed his retreat until he was back in the space outside my door.
“Did you like my welcome present?” His face lit up with cheekiness.
“Hmmm . . . I presume you spoke to the woman in the pharmacy.”
“Yes. I spotted the brown bag you were holding. There were only five shops that you could have gone in to. I checked them all. She was very helpful.”
I rolled my eyes at his excited enthusiasm.
“Just so you know, if you ever need anything a bit more exciting, or even standard condoms, I’ll get them for you. You can’t walk into a pharmacy now and not get recognised. Like I said earlier, I’m here for anything. I could be quite useful for you and—”
I shut the door. I’d heard enough.
“How rude.” Anthony said from the other side of the door.
I groaned in frustration.
“Hey, I’ll leave you to it, but I’ve got one question for you. How the hell are you intending on getting to the studio tomorrow?”
“I’m not there tomorrow. Day off,” I shouted back.
“What about Wednesday then? Is Alex picking you up, or do you want me to help you?”
“Shit,” I moaned. I’d not even thought about how I’d get to work.
Anthony and I had continued our conversation through my closed door. I had sat on the floor, eating my pizza whilst he had sat outside telling me how cruel I was. We did, in between hurling well-meaning insults at each other, devise a plan for my journey to the studio on Wednesday morning. He had insisted on taking care of everything and said he’d order a taxi to pick me up at seven.
He had eventually shifted away from my door, complaining of cramp in areas I’d rather not have known about. I had moved back into my room and positioned myself on the sofa, before finishing my pizza and then heading to bed.
I didn’t sleep well that night. It wasn’t surprising. My head was muddled, my emotions were raw, and I still couldn’t see any way to make things okay before he went away.
Morning brought about another sunny day for London, but even the sun couldn’t lift my melancholy mood. I puzzled all day about what to say to Alex, how to approach him, how to make things right. But I knew that none of it mattered. If Alex refused to talk to me, there wasn’t anything I could do to change his mind. The one hope I had stemmed from overhearing what he had said to Erin last night. I focused on that one scrap of hope. He would talk to me, I didn’t need to make the first move. And when he spoke to me, I’d be willing to listen, I’d tell him repeatedly how sorry I was.
It was all I could think of.
Tuesday night came and went, and that night, I surprised myself by sleeping well. All dreams I had were about me and Alex. We were happy and in love. It was only when I woke up that the harsh reality of morning hit me.
Today was the day that I had to sort things out with Alex.
Today was the day that I had to watch Alex and Amy simulate sex with each other.
I dressed casually, not wanting it to look like I’d made any special effort to dress up for him. Another floaty, short summer dress skimmed my body. It was like the one I’d worn when Alex and I had made out on my sofa the other night—until he’d fallen asleep.
Memories, so many memories, pleasant ones, kept tugging at my thoughts.
I was nothing but hopeful when I thought of the coming day.
A loud knock at my door was followed by a shout. “Ella. Taxi’s here! Don’t be late!”
I grabbed my purse and rushed to the door. Anthony stood outside, leaning against the wall.
“Thanks for this,” I said, genuinely grateful for his assistance. I wasn’t sure whether he was only helping me to keep in my good book and encourage me to talk. But I also hoped that he was genuinely nice, and just looking out for me.
He left the building with me, shielding me from all the paparazzi as I climbed into the taxi.
“See you later, Ella. Have a good day,” he said just before he shut the door.
If only he knew what I was heading into.
The taxi driver didn’t talk on our journey to the studio. He wasn’t rude, just doing his job, but I found it strange. I didn’t get taxis very often; whenever I did the drivers were always chatty. Not this one it seemed.
The taxi pulled up at the studio gates. Like yesterday morning when Alex had driven us to the studio, the vehicle was surrounded by photographers. I kept my head down, not wanting to have my photo taken willingly this morning. The security guard peered in to the car, before lifting the barrier. The taxi driver drove to the back of the studios and pulled up next to the double doors that led into the corridor. I stepped out of the taxi and opened my purse, but the driver raised his hand in a gesture for me to stop.
“All taken care of, Miss Summer. Mr Edwards has requested that the cost of your journeys be placed on his account from now on.”
He pulled a card from his top pocket. “Call this number if you ever need a taxi. It’s all paid for.”
“Oh, thank you,” I was astounded and somewhat intrigued by Anthony’s generosity.
“Enjoy your day, Miss Summer.”
I nodded before he turned away and drove off, leaving me facing the ominous sight of the main doors into the studio building. These were the doors that would lead
me to either the best, or the worst, day of my life.
The corridors were strangely quiet. As I passed Amy’s dressing room, there wasn’t the usual shrieking and complaining that normally came from inside. I walked past Alex’s equally silent dressing room, ignoring the urge to knock and walk in. I frowned at the quietness that seemed to be all around.
It was only when I reached the doors to the main studio that shouting disturbed the unnatural silence. Alex was furious about something, and it seemed that Rowan was on the receiving end of his anger.
I took a deep breath and made my entrance.
“Sick!” Alex shouted, his hands curling and flexing into fists at his sides. “I don’t care if she’s fucking dying! This scene must be shot today. I’m flying out to Los Angeles this afternoon. I have to finish today.”
I had become accustomed to his wild outbursts over the past week. But today, I also heard despair. He’d had enough. It should all be finished.
I understood his reaction.
“It’s a closed set for fucks sake! The sex scene. And she says she’s ill?” His fingers pulled through his hair and the on-set stylist rushed over. “Get off me!” he shouted, “I’m about to have sex—my hair needs to be a mess.”
“Morning,” I greeted cheerfully before walking over to my usual chair.
“Ella?” Alex’s voice was almost a whisper as he spoke my name.
I sat down. “So, what’s going on now?” I asked, sounding a lot more confident than I felt.
“Amy is sick, again,” Rowan explained.
“What’s up with her this time?” I queried, not blabbing about her potential morning sickness.
“She’s just not right.”
“Well, we all fucking know that!” Alex snarled. “The problem is, what do we do about it?”
Rowan shrugged.
Alex’s gaze fell on me for a few seconds before he quickly turned to Rowan. “Find a replacement,” he ordered.
“What?”
“I want a replacement. Now! Find someone. It can’t be that difficult.”
Rowan looked panicked. “It’s impossible, Alex. Where the hell am I going to find a replacement on such short notice?”
“I don’t care. That’s your job, not mine. For fucks sake, there are plenty of females who want to sleep with me. Just grab one of them.”