by John, Ashley
The water warm water trickled wearily over her, and she let it run through her hair and across her face. The clown washed away. She'd never been more eager to transform back into her plain self. The force of the shower may have been weak, but it washed away the stress and anger, letting her think clearly. She decided that she was going to apologize to Marcus, because it wasn't his fault. He could have let her in on the secret, but he was clearly terrified of disobeying Tony.
As she lathered shampoo into her dry and product filled hair, her mind wandered to Nolan, but she was quickly distracted by a loud banging. At first, she thought somebody was knocking on the door, but it happened again, even closer. The banging traveled through the ceiling and down the wall, until it reached the shower. She wiped the eyeliner from her eyes just in time for a burst of cold water to hit her in the face. Jumping backwards, she waited for the shower to go back to normal, but each time she kicked her foot in the path of the suddenly powerful water stream, it was even icier.
“Fuck,” she mumbled, ripping the shower curtain back, wiping away the shampoo suds that were trickling down her forehead.
As she wrapped a towel around her waist, she caught sight of herself in the mirror, and she looked even more like a clown than before. Dark smears of black makeup had ran down her cheeks, and her red lips were suddenly all over her chin. She fished her underwear out of the sink and cast it into the bedroom, but the water from the tap was just as icy as the shower.
With the towel tucked under her arms, keeping her breasts concealed, she popped her head out into the corridor to make sure the coast was clear. Tip-toeing as fast as she dared she dripped cold water all over the cracked, cream tiles. She hovered at the top of the stairs and let out another 'fuck!' when she realized she'd not even bothered to ask Marcus which room he was staying in. Could she really go down to reception to ask Julia where he was? She imagined how amused Julia would be at her soapy hair, panda eyes and joker mouth.
The decision was clear. She could brave the cold shower, or she could brave facing Nolan.
***
Perching on the edge of Nolan's bed, it was like she'd been transported into another hotel. His room was a lot cleaner, his bed was comfier and he even had a small TV mounted in the corner. It wasn't much, but it was clear he'd been given the journalist treatment. Even his shower was more powerful than hers.
“Thanks again,” she smiled at him as she towel dried her hair.
“Stop thanking me!” he laughed.
He sat in the corner of the room, swallowed up by a large wicker chair. He was wearing the same half-open shirt from earlier, but he'd changed into a pair of very baggy short shorts. She tried not to, but her eyes kept drifting up through the gaps in the legs, and she was sure that he wasn't wearing any underwear. The way he was sitting with his hands rested behind his head made his arm muscles bulge out.
“How much do you work out?"
“Every day, normally,” he smiled, resting his hands on his stomach, “Gotta keep this thing firm.”
“You're not like the other gym junkies I meet. Usually bone heads on steroids.”
“No steroids here,” he patted his firm abs through the loose shirt, “I don't really work out for the look, I just enjoy it.”
“Enjoy exercise?” she laughed as she wrapped her hair up in a towel.
“Some people do,” he smiled, flashing his dimples, “I joined the gym when I was going through the divorce. It kept me all leveled.”
“What did you look like before?”
“A typical 20-something year old man? I had a gut and two chins.”
Delilah tried to imagine a porkier Nolan, but the image wouldn't come.
“Well, you look good,” she made sure her towel was firmly tucked around her breasts.
If he was any other man, she'd drop the towel and jump on him, but things still felt weird from earlier on.
He jokingly tensed his arms, making the solid peaks pop out. She doubted it was supposed to be sexual, but it made her stomach lurch forwards.
“I guess I better leave you to it,” she stood up, securing the towel once again.
“Are you sure you don't want to do anything tonight?” he quickly jumped up from the chair and stood face to face to her.
Towering over her, she felt exposed wearing nothing but a towel. Did she really have the willpower to say no?
She ducked out of his way and walked towards the door, but before she reached out for the handle, she found herself spinning back around, fighting her instincts.
“What did you have in mind?” she closed her eyes and rose her eyebrows.
“Well, there's a little restaurant in town I've been dying to try.”
A dinner date.
That was simple enough, wasn't it?
No sunflowers or motorbikes.
“Give me 20 minutes to get ready.”
“I'll meet you outside in 10.”
He winked cheekily at her. She was about to protest, but the way he was smiling at her wouldn't let her object. He could have told her to do anything right then, and she would have.
As she quickly started to blast her hair off with the tiny hairdryer attached to the wall in her bathroom, she told herself she wasn't going to let André ruin anything.
Chapter 16
“How did you find this place?” Delilah gazed at the restaurant in awe.
It looked just like the print of Vincent Van Gogh's 'Cafe Terrace at Night' painting that her grandma had hung in her downstairs toilet. A small stone terrace sat in front of the restaurant on the tiny, narrow street, similar to the street the nightclub sat on. A small balcony with a couple of metal chairs and tables jutted out from the building, and twinkling fairy-lights lined the railing.
If Nolan was trying his hardest to romance her, it was working.
As they approached the restaurant, Nolan slipped his hand into hers and led the way into the almost empty dining room. They were met by a very enthusiastic waiter who spoke rapidly with Nolan, showing them towards a small metal, spiral staircase in the center of the dining area. Walking up the stairs, she ruffled her still damp hair and she was glad there weren't many other diners to see her.
In the 10 minutes Nolan had given her, she'd managed to apply a little mascara, a hint of lip liner and she'd swept her hair over to one side. Even though it was all she could do in the short time she had, she felt comfortable after spending a full day in her pop star costume.
Hand in hand, they followed the waiter out onto the balcony, and he dodged around them to pull out Delilah's chair, before handing them both menus and vanishing to leave them alone. Encased in the twinkling railings, she felt as if Nolan had taken her to a tiny slice of heaven, tucked away in the backstreets of Madrid.
“So, what do you think? Is this up to your standards?” he joked.
“Oh, it exceeds them,” she let out a soft laugh that floated down the streets.
Glancing over the railings, she could see people walking through the dark, completely ignoring the tiny restaurant. Just when she felt like they were alone, the waiter reappeared with a bottle of wine in an ice bucket and two glasses. He lit the small candle in the middle of the table and vanished again.
“Are we going to talk about what happened earlier?” Nolan said casually as he scanned the menu.
Delilah glanced down at the Spanish writing for a distraction, even though she couldn't understand it.
“I told you, I was just tired,” she smiled.
“Are you sure?”
How could she even begin to explain that she had a boyfriend who was meant to be joining her at the end of her trip?
"Honestly Nolan,” she smiled a little too strong, “it's just been a long day.”
“I'll have you home before midnight Cinderella,” he glanced up and smiled cheekily over the menu, his face dancing softly in the candle light.
Delilah laughed and let out a sigh and started reading the menu again, still not understanding the words. Despite the
drama at the studio, she felt at ease. Nolan seemed to have that effect on her. After consulting Nolan on the menu, they ordered starters of tomato and basil soup, a main of Mediterranean vegetables and dessert of sorbet. Delilah insisted that Nolan didn't have to avoid meat just because of her, but he said it was only polite.
Over their dinner they talked about Nolan's childhood and life. She learned that he'd been raised by his aunt and uncle, after his parents died when he was a baby. He moved into a small apartment in New York when he was 18 to study journalism at NYU, where he met his ex-wife, Stella. They married when they both graduated at a tiny ceremony at city hall with a couple of friends, and then they went to Wendy's for the wedding dinner. Everything seemed fine between them until he went home to their apartment one day a little too early to catch Stella his brother. It turned out they'd been having an affair pretty much since the wedding. They divorced when he was 26 and he hadn't seen any of them since. For the last two years, he'd been traveling the world, working for a small travel magazine, which explained his perfect natural tan, and when he wasn't, he lived alone in New York. Aside from a few thousand dollars savings in the bank, he didn't have much, but he was happy with his life.
It made Delilah envious. He didn't have any strings and he had nobody relying on him.
“It gets lonely,” he admitted.
“Sometimes, I just wish I could be alone, just for five minutes. This trip has been like therapy for me. I've had no internet, no phone calls and nowhere to be. Apart from the performance, I don't have to worry about any work.”
“How long has it been like that?”
“Too long,” she laughed as she sipped her wine, but it was a loaded laugh, “I got signed when I was 15 to a small label and worked as a backing singer and song writer. I had my big break at 18 and signed to my label in LA and moved out there. We've spent years laying the ground work, but things are only just starting to blow up. People keep calling me 'Delilah White – Overnight Success', but they seem to forget I've been working my ass off since I was 15.”
“You were working at 13?”
“I started doing gigs in bars when I was 13. I got a fake driver's license off this guy on the estate, Dodgy Pete, and started grafting. I didn't have a choice. My mum needed me.”
“What about your dad?”
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She didn't like talking about him to anyone. If people asked about him, she'd change the subject. She was about to move the conversation somewhere else, but Nolan hadn't held anything back from her.
“He walked out on us when I was 6,” she took a long sip of the wine, “and I haven't seen him since.”
Nolan didn't say anything. He swirled his wine around in the glass before inhaling and taking a sharp sip. She suddenly remembered what he'd said about his parents dying when he was a baby and suddenly she felt foolish.
“That must have been tough.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled, “It's nothing compared to your parents.”
Nolan smiled at her and set the glass down on the table, “Delilah, I didn't even know them. They died when I was 6 months old in a car crash. As far as I was concerned, my aunt and uncle were my parents, and they're still both there for me like parents.”
“They sound nice.”
It made her think about her mother, but she quickly forced herself to think about something else before the homesickness kicked in.
“They're the sweetest couple,” his eyes glazed over, as if a fond memory was clouding his mind, “they're in their 80s now, but they're a real hoot! They're from Brooklyn, so they're real old school. They love each other so much though, I want to find that one day.”
Delilah's heart clenched as a vision of her walking down the aisle in white briefly filled her mind. She couldn't see the face of the groom, but she forced herself to think of something else, again. She tried to imagine what Marcus was up to, or, more likely, who he was with, but the wedding bells wouldn't leave her mind.
“I'm sure you will,” Delilah smiled over her wine glass.
“You'll have to meet them sometime, they'd love you. They're always watching Bravo, so they probably know more about you than I do.”
Had he just invited her to meet the parents? Her heart twitched again, and the wine felt funny on top of all of the food they'd eaten. She suddenly thought about the end of her stay in Spain, and getting back to normal. She'd be followed by paparazzi in the supermarket, she'd constantly need to be somewhere and she'd be a six hour flight away from Nolan. They hadn't agreed anything or talked about anything. Aside from a couple of stolen kisses and some heavy petting, there was nothing else there. She tried to tell herself it wouldn't work, but it hurt to think about him being so far away from her.
“Okay,” she nodded, “you'll have to introduce me sometime.”
Nolan smiled, but it was a smile that flickered with sadness. He didn't believe her and he had no reason to. She was a pop star who traveled the world and he was a travel journalist who traveled the world. They'd probably always be heading in opposite directions from each other.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he closed it and stopped himself.
“Go on,” Delilah urged, her heart racing.
“It doesn't matter,” he shook his head heavily, still sadly smiling at her, “it's silly.
“Well...I promise not to laugh. You're not that funny anyway.”
He laughed and narrowed his dark eyes on her. Through the twinkling of the flickering candle, Delilah could have sworn he was the most beautiful man she'd ever met.
“What happens when we leave Spain?” Nolan looked down into his wine glass.
Delilah sat silently for a second, thinking. She had no idea what to say.
“I haven't thought that far ahead,” she shrugged.
“I have,” he smiled, “I've tried to, but I don't want to be stupid. We've only just met.”
“It's not stupid,” she said it before she'd even thought about it.
Their eyes connected across the table. His pupils danced in the light, and her heart returned the dance.
She wanted to reach over the table and stroke his stubbly jaw.
She wanted to pull his lips close to hers.
She wanted his hands to touch every part of her body.
His eyes like fire, he pierced her down into the chair, numbing her body. She had the urge to risk everything she'd spent years working for, for a man. Could she really give up everything to follow a crazy whim? Should she have to give up everything to follow her heart?
“There's no way we could ever work in the real world, I know that,” he nodded, “people like you don't date people like me.”
“That's not true. That's not the problem.”
It was true, but it no longer applied to Nolan. She didn't care about his career or his money.
“And the problem is?”
Where did she start?
“Everything,” she put the wine glass on the table a little too forcefully, causing it to sound out against the metal surface, “we're two people living very different lives.”
Nolan sat silently for a second before pulling his wallet out of his back packet to slam a fist full of crinkled bills on the counter, “Let's get out of here.”
Delilah was surprised by the sudden change of direction. She'd wanted to hear him say that they could figure something out. Perhaps date when they had the chance, or stay in touch somehow?
“Right now?” her nose crinkled.
She had no idea what time it was, but she knew she didn't want to leave him anytime soon.
“Look at us! We're sat here talking about pointless stuff. I said I wanted to get to know you, and we still have an entire week of getting to know each other.”
“But-”
“Fancy a walk on the beach?”
She smiled, and joined him in standing up. After downing the leftover wine, she followed him down the spiraling staircase, and with each step, she felt the wine float merrily
to her mind.
A romantic candle-lit dinner and a walk on the beach?
Nolan was too good to be true.
Delilah was sure that he was far too good for someone like her.
Chapter 17
Hand in hand, they walked through the street in the dark as if they were lost in their own secret world. The streets could have been empty or filled with people, because Delilah didn't notice. All she noticed was how Nolan's hand held hers firmly, not letting go for anything. When they came to a lamppost, he'd lead her around the side, when crossed the roads, he squeezed it protectively and when they reached the beach, he helped her down the ledge and onto the white sand.
The moon shone down on the still water surface, it's reflection dancing along the surface, all the way to shore. A couple of bars were dotted around the front, but aside from the steady and dim pounding of the bass notes coming from the bars, they were completely alone.
“How perfect is this beach?” Nolan enthused, dragging Delilah across the sand towards the water's edge.
As her gladiator sandals sunk into sand, she was grateful that she didn't choose to wear her heels, because she'd toyed with the idea of throwing them on before leaving the hotel.
“It's perfect,” Delilah sighed, staring out to sea, “everything has been perfect. I don't think I've thanked you for today yet.”
“You don't need to thank me,” he clenched her hand tightly in his.
“You saved my ass today!” she laughed.
Nolan sat down in the sand, Delilah's hand still clutched in his. She fanned her dress out, creating a pillow to sit on, before settling in next to him. Instinctively, she nuzzled into his side.
“The nerd in me liked seeing how things worked behind the scenes,” his tone was playful, “and it was interesting seeing you work.”
“Interesting?”
“Yeah,” he laughed, “that's the only word I can use to describe it. I mean, that stunt you pulled with that song was genius. You know how to get people's attention.”