by Jo Bartlett
‘Oh right and who exactly is that sort?’ Stevie raised an eyebrow quizzically and handed her a plate from the drainer.
‘Airheads, who don’t have any brains for him to suck out with his turbo-powered snogging technique.’ They exchanged a look and she smiled for the first time.
‘Susie-Anne!’ The name was spoken in unison. Stevie laughed and then an unreadable expression crossed his face. As always, being with him made everything, even last night’s disaster that little bit better.
Chapter Nineteen
The festive cheer in the run up to Christmas was lost on Ashleigh. She’d kept her promise and resolutely refused to contact Tom again. Having driven herself mad for the first forty-eight hours constantly checking and rechecking her phone to see if he’d decided to apologise, she realised there was only one thing for it. Changing her number might cause her some problems, but at least then she could stop expecting Tom to call or text since he didn’t have her new number.
It was more difficult to get away from reminders of him, though, as Chloe Nicholas had hit the number one spot in England and America and it looked like she’d be there until Christmas. Dogged by tragedy her whole life, the papers had reported that Chloe was found wandering barefoot, three streets away from her flat in the early hours of the morning, the day after her single was confirmed as number one. The papers were full of Tom stepping in to sort out the situation and there were photographs of him with his arm around her fragile shoulders, shielding her from the worst of the media onslaught that had resulted.
Stevie had stayed with Ashleigh for the first two days, but then he’d had to go back to town, as he typically hadn’t even begun to think about buying Christmas presents. His poor Nan was probably in line for a pair of skinny jeans or a block-coloured ensemble in orange, sky blue and purple.
Having spent as much time as she could bear with her mother, she was relieved when the twenty-third finally rolled around. There’d been a couple of brief moments in the middle of the night, since that ill-fated kiss, when she’d seriously considered telling Zac to stick the photo-shoot up his cosmetically enhanced bum. He had more junk in his trunk than Ashleigh personally found attractive in a man, unlike Tom whose bottom had been nothing short of a work of art. But she couldn’t think about that. The dawning of the days had sobered her up each time. There was no point throwing her career into the same skip as her personal life. It had been a pretty disastrous year all in all.
Zac was unlikely to feel any guilt as a result of her pulling out of the shoot, so she’d just be cutting her nose off to spite her face. It was something to focus on, something positive that might come out of this whole mess. Knowing Zac had to have some upside. His greatest hits album was guaranteed to be an international bestseller. Despite the wane in any new success over recent years, the market for re-mastered versions of his old hits was as strong as ever.
Ashleigh borrowed her mother’s ancient Land Rover, which was liberally decorated with dog hair and mud. Its tank-like quality meant it wasn’t the most aesthetically pleasing vehicle in the world, but she’d been relieved to find that it actually had a reasonable turn of speed. Admittedly, the old girl whined a bit when she hit seventy miles an hour, but she made surprisingly good time and reached Zac’s country pile in Sussex a full forty-five minutes before she’d been due to do so. He’d insisted that the shoot take place at home, as he wanted the album cover to reflect who he really was. Having had so much cosmetic surgery, it was impossible to be sure who Zac really was. There would be a series of shots, one for the front of the CD and some for the inlay inside, including one of him ‘at work’ in his studio. Fans downloading his album would also be able to access copies of the artwork for a small additional fee, from which Ashleigh would receive a percentage.
She punched the code Zac had given her into the security gates at the foot of the half-mile long gravel driveway, which swept up to the front of his Georgian manor house. The outside remained classic and beautiful. The inside, however, was a different matter and it had been well and truly Zac’ed over the years. Each room had a theme and it felt more like a film set, or a Disney hotel, than it did a home. She’d done several photo-shoots at the house before, so pretty much knew her way around.
Ashleigh gave the old-fashioned bell pull a good yank, the sound echoing in the hallway inside. Having got no response after five minutes of trying, she took out her mobile and scrolled down to Zac’s number. She might actually kill him if he’d stood her up. Thankfully the phone was ringing somewhere just inside the front door, so at least he hadn’t gone out and forgotten about the shoot. He never strayed far from his iPhone. Typically narcissistic, he’d downloaded one of his own singles as the ring tone.
Walking round to the back of the house, where the pool and gym were, Ashleigh sighed. Zac definitely wasn’t in her good books of late. There was every chance he’d be having a last minute workout, or ten minutes on his sun bed, to make sure he looked his absolute best before the shoot: too self-centred to worry about letting her know where he was.
‘Hello?’ She poked her head around the door of the gym. Every wall was mirrored. The thought of seeing herself red faced and sweating, whilst attempting to operate the machines that looked like they had been designed by NASA engineers filling her with dread. But Zac needed to be within a head turn of a mirror at all times. The gym was empty, but music was playing and every light in the place blazing. He obviously belonged to the non-believers camp when it came to global warming.
Ashleigh edged around the gym equipment, the handles of which threatened to skewer her at any moment should she make one false move, and headed out through the solarium towards the indoor pool.
Zac was in the water, but he wasn’t alone. He had his hands in the hair of the latest recipient of his patented super-suction snog, but they were obscured by the back view she had of Zac, who to her horror didn’t appear to be wearing any trunks.
She cleared her throat, but the snogging was too full on to be infiltrated so easily. Ordinarily, she would probably have discreetly slipped out and waited until Zac, and the latest candidate for fiancée number eight, emerged from the pool. However, since he’d caused her so many problems recently, she wasn’t about to afford him that level of courtesy.
‘Coo ee, Zac!’ Oh God, she was turning into her mother, the only person she knew who still used expressions like ‘Coo ee’. Worries about turning into a clone of Carol paled, as Zac finally broke off from kissing his latest conquest.
‘Ashleigh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t want you to find out like this.’ It wasn’t Zac who had spoken; he was still staring open-mouthed in her direction.
Stevie was already wading towards the edge of the pool, leaving Zac where he was.
‘So when were you going to tell me?’ Ashleigh was vaguely aware of sounding like a wronged wife. How had she not seen it? She’d thought they hated each other and if Zac’s persona had all been an act, then she was an idiot for believing it. ‘How long has it been going on?’
‘Carly and Duane’s wedding.’ Stevie hauled himself out of the pool and wrapped one of the white fluffy towels around his waist to hide his nakedness. ‘I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you.’
‘So the love bites, they were him?’ She should have known. Having been on the receiving end of Zac’s suction technique, it should have been obvious who had inflicted the bruises on Stevie’s neck. ‘So why the hell did you feel it was necessary to kiss me and mess up things with Tom?’ She was shaking as she turned on Zac. He had finally edged his way over to the side of the pool, but apparently elected not to get out; clearly feeling very vulnerable in his naked state, especially in the wake of Ashleigh who was trembling with rage.
‘I’d always fancied you.’ For once in his life, Zac had the grace to look a bit sheepish. ‘At least I thought I had. When Stevie kissed me at the wedding I was horrified.’
‘He slapped me in fact, but the
opportunity just presented itself and it felt so right, I couldn’t help it. We’d been bickering, as usual, and then he looked at me in a way he never had before, so I had to take the chance that my hunch might be right. When he kissed me back I knew.’ Stevie looked like he wanted to put his arm around her but he didn’t, as if sensing that she was still too angry to be comforted.
‘Yeah, but I was horrified by how much I liked it.’ Zac sighed. ‘After the slap, I wanted to run off, but I couldn’t stay away from him. I’ve never felt like that before and I knew then that all the girls over the years had just been an attempt to suppress what I’d wanted all along. We spent most of the evening talking and… other stuff, but I still wasn’t ready to admit how I felt, even to myself. I deliberately started a row with Stevie and told him I never wanted to see him again. By the next afternoon, at the church, I’d convinced myself that it had just been a one-off and that it didn’t really mean as much as I thought it had.’
‘So what, you thought by kissing me that Stevie would get angry and the problem would be solved?’ She sat down with a thud on one of the sun loungers; her legs no longer seemed to hold her up.
‘Not exactly. I thought if I kissed you and enjoyed it, I could go back to being straight after all.’ Zac attempted a wry grin. ‘Only it didn’t quite work out.’
‘So you used me?’ Nausea washed over her. Not only had Zac ruined things with Tom, but it turned out she’d just been part of an experiment.
‘He’s sorry, we both are.’ At last Stevie moved to sit next to her on the sun lounger and took her hand in his. ‘Up until the night of the wedding our attraction to each other had been masked by us both, so much so that we couldn’t bear to be in the same room. It was hard for him to admit how he felt. He just wanted to be sure. To be fair, Zac had no way of knowing that Tom would see it all.’
‘Fair?’ She snatched her hand away. ‘What would be fair would be for you to tell Tom what you’ve told me.’
‘I have.’ Zac finally emerged from the pool and caught the towel that Stevie had thrown in his direction. ‘Not exactly the whole story, but at least I told him that none of it was your doing.’
‘So what did you tell him?’ Ashleigh bit her lip. If Tom knew the truth and he still hadn’t got in touch with her that was even worse.
‘I told him that I instigated the kiss, gave you no choice.’ Zac moved on to the lounger next to theirs.
‘Yeah, so that bit’s true, what else?’
‘I told him I did it to test my feelings for someone else, I just didn’t say who.’ Zac stared at the ground and sympathy stirred in her, despite all the trouble he’d caused. Regardless of how strong his feelings for Stevie were, it didn’t look like he was ready to admit them to the world. For a man who had built his career on a certain reputation it was going be a huge thing to reveal.
‘And what did Tom say?’ She wasn’t sure if she was still angry with Zac or if it was Tom she most wanted to slap.
‘He said I was a complete arse and… oh yeah, and that everything I say is bullshit, I think those were his words.’ Zac grinned at the memory. ‘I thought for a moment that he might even punch me!’ Tom had quoted one of the texts she’d sent him almost word for word.
‘Nothing else?’ She couldn’t stop shaking, everything was changing so fast. Stevie was obviously in love for the first time in all the years she’d known him and the partnership that had always sustained her looked like it might be about to change for good.
Chapter Twenty
An hour later, only ten minutes after they’d been due to start, Ashleigh had begun to get over finding Stevie and Zac locked in a passionate kiss, at least enough to think about where to start the shoot.
Zac had requested a ‘moody look’ for the album cover because he thought it would help his music reach a new audience. She didn’t think Goths and Emos would ever buy Zac Starr’s All the hits and a few new bits album, but it was his call. He emerged from his bedroom, after a quick change, looking like an extra from a film about medieval knights, in a weird black cloak trimmed with fur over leather trousers and knee high boots.
‘I can see the influence you’re having on him already.’ Ashleigh managed a weak smile in Stevie’s direction.
‘Shut up!’ He returned the smile, their ability to banter still intact at least. He’d looked almost as shocked as she’d felt finding them together and there’d be a lot of adjusting to do. ‘That outfit has nothing to do with me. Lust has just made me blind to his appalling dress sense I suppose.’
Zac had swept out towards the stable block, where the groom was preparing one of his horses to be part of the photo shoot. He admitted to Ashleigh and Stevie that he only got around to riding sporadically and it was blatantly obvious that he didn’t enjoy it much. Despite that, he couldn’t resist showing off for the shoot and was soon mounted on the most impressive of his horses, a five-year old white stallion called Tempest.
The horse was quite flighty, sensing that his rider was less than confident in the saddle. Ashleigh clicked away with the camera, hoping that she’d get a few decent shots where Zac’s face didn’t portray the panic he so clearly felt.
‘Right, what’s next?’ Having taken shots from as many angles as possible, including Zac perching on the low branch of a huge horse-chestnut tree in Tempest’s paddock, Ashleigh had exhausted the scope of his medieval knight theme. Hoping they might move to the studio next, to give her a chance to capture a few reportage style shots, she waited for his response. He didn’t get a chance to reply, as a large brown hare shot out from the undergrowth right in front of Tempest. The horse spooked violently, leaping first to one side and then swiftly changing direction, unseating Zac as smoothly as butter off a knife.
‘Oh my God!’ Stevie had sprinted over to where Zac had landed, almost before Ashleigh had put her camera down.
‘I’m all right. Although I think I might have broken my arse or at least burst one of the bags of collagen I’ve had stuffed into it.’ Zac struggled to his feet, Stevie fussing around him like an over-protective mother. The groom quickly caught Tempest, who was likely to be for sale in Horse and Hound magazine within the week. Zac, who seemed to be quite enjoying the drama and the level of Stevie’s concern, put an arm around each of their shoulders and allowed them to support him as they made their way back to the house, like some wounded soldier from the battlefield.
‘Oh dear, not interrupting again am I?’ Standing on the steps at the front door of the manor house, looking ridiculously handsome, was a smiling Tom. Suddenly aware of her flushed face and tousled hair, Ashleigh cursed that she wasn’t one of those woman who looked effortlessly groomed at all times; the sort who emerged from planes looking like they’d just had an appointment with their hairdresser, instead of as she did with hair like Russell Brand.
‘Zac’s had a fall, we were just helping him back to the house.’ He’d put her on the defensive again. After his reaction last time she wasn’t taking any chances and being falsely accused in the first place had got her back up. She had in her grasp the opportunity of wiping that smug look off his face by revealing that Zac was more likely to be interested in him, but that wasn’t an option. Neither Zac or Stevie were ready to make their relationship public yet, nor were they willing to trust Tom with their secret. She didn’t owe Zac any favours, but she’d never betray Stevie.
‘Should I call an ambulance?’ Tom descended the stairs in two strides and immediately relieved Ashleigh of the burden of supporting Zac’s weight.
‘Nah, I’m fine, just a bit of a bruised bum that’s all.’ Zac didn’t seem keen on giving the paparazzi another chance of snapping him in A&E. Rock stars weren’t supposed go to hospital for a few bruises.
‘I’m not sure, I think he should get checked out.’ Stevie was struggling to keep the emotion out of his voice. Apparently Zac wasn’t the only one who had fallen hard recently.
‘O
oh all this concern! I think I’ll have to fall off my horse more often, but I’m okay, honest.’ Zac laughed, wincing as it shook his bruised frame. ‘Although I must say, I much prefer having a hot woman like Ash tending to my wounds than you mate.’ He winked and a warm sensation crept up Ashleigh’s neck. It was a response to the lie, but thankfully Tom was none the wiser. Would Zac ever break the habit of a lifetime and stop acting the lady-killer he was expected to be? And where did that leave Stevie if he couldn’t? Despite his deception she cared about him more than he’d ever know and she couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt.
Zac disappeared to his bedroom and Stevie went with him, on the pretext of helping him select an outfit for the next stage of the shoot. Resorting to the typically English pastime, as a response to any kind of trauma, Ashleigh made tea and found herself alone with Tom.
‘How have you been?’ His voice was full of concern.
‘Yeah, I’ve been good, thanks.’ If she sounded unconvincing, she couldn’t help it and she busied herself putting teabags into four mugs so she didn’t have to look at him.
‘Ash, I’m so sorry, I really am.’ He caught hold of her elbow and she turned to face him.
‘For what?’ She looked down, suddenly awkward in his presence, as though the night they’d spent together had never happened.
‘For reacting like I did when I saw you and Zac.’ He cupped her chin with his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. ‘I wanted to come straight back to the flat when I realised what an idiot I’d been.’ He grinned and she pressed her lips together, willing herself not to let him off the hook too easily. ‘I was about to get back out of the car when the call came in about Chloe. Then, when Zac called and I still couldn’t get hold of you on the phone, I decided to drive down and see you. But he told me you were coming here and I thought mutual ground might be safer.’