Daisy nodded, then started to play.
It was the second song they’d written together. The one that had led to the almost kiss that had led to everything that came after.
The moment he’d realised that she might want him too.
‘Where did you get this?’ he asked, hoarsely.
‘Daisy sent it to me. She said she always records song-writing sessions on her phone in case she forgets something later. I asked her if she had any footage of the songs you were working on together and she sent me this.’
‘And when you’re close, oh, how I feel you. Down deep inside my soul,’ Daisy sang on the screen.
Jay pressed stop.
He couldn’t hear that right now.
He handed Harry the phone back, and his brother took it reluctantly.
‘I’m sending you the file,’ he said, tapping the screen. ‘Watch it to the end, will you? Then tell me if you honestly think you still have to wait for the real thing. Because I’m telling you, if I had someone who looked at me the way Daisy looks at you—or the way you look at her—I’d be shouting it from the rooftop.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Jay said. But somewhere inside, part of him was wondering. Hoping.
‘No,’ Harry said. ‘I’m not. Watch the video. I’m going to go tell Kevin to stop planning your grand reunion with Milli.’
* * *
She didn’t want to leave.
Daisy looked around her cosy villa, no longer crumbling quite so much, but still in need of some redecoration and sprucing up. Maybe she could just stay here. Cancel the tour—or, better yet, Kevin could probably get Milli Masters to fill in for her. Jay would like that.
Except Milli would expect to headline, of course.
And she didn’t want to think about Milli and Jay.
She’d known, when she’d ended things with him, that she’d have to be back on that tour bus with him within the week. But she’d hoped the few days apart would help her get over that crushing sense of loss that had hit her when she’d returned to the villa to discover it was just her and Genevieve now.
They hadn’t.
Jessica and Aubrey had been great, messaging every day to check in with her, trying to keep her spirits up. They’d both also tried to talk to her about the conversations she needed to have with Jay when she saw him again, but she’d managed to shut them down. She wasn’t ready to think about that just yet.
She knew what she needed to do to get through the first couple of weeks back on tour with the band—the same thing she’d been doing since long before she left home at sixteen. Toughen up and not let anyone see she cared.
If the guys realised how she felt about Jay it would be awkward. If Milli realised, it would be humiliating. And if the world knew...she’d be a laughing stock.
‘It’s not like I’m the first girl who had a guy not love her back,’ she said to Genevieve. ‘I’ll survive.’
The only thing was, when she’d been with Jay, for the first time in so long it hadn’t felt like surviving.
It had felt like really living.
On the counter, her phone flashed with an alert, and she picked it up to find a message from Aubrey.
Did you see this?
Frowning, she clicked the link. Milli Masters’ perfect face filled the screen—except she didn’t look quite so perfect for once. There were artfully placed tears in the corners of her eyes, but Daisy suspected that was a filter, because if anything her expression looked more annoyed than upset.
She turned up the volume to hear the words, and her breath caught in her throat.
‘I mean, when it comes down to it, I’m just another heartbroken girl. I thought we were soul mates, but I guess sometimes true love just doesn’t work out, right? But I wish Jay every happiness, and I’d hate for any of you to give him a hard time.’
Daisy scoffed at that. Knowing Milli’s fans the hate mail was probably already in full swing.
But she’d worry about that later. Right now, she needed to understand what this meant.
‘Does it mean he hasn’t gone back to her after all?’ she asked aloud.
Genevieve remained unhelpfully silent, busy chewing on the fringe of an old sofa cushion.
‘Or does it mean...?’
‘It means I’m in love with someone else. And I’m hoping she’s in love with me too.’
Daisy spun around at the sound of Jay’s voice, half expecting it to be her imagination tormenting her. But no, there he was, standing in the open doorway, the Italian sun streaming through his light hair, his hands in his pockets as he squinted at her.
‘Are you wearing my T-shirt?’
‘Are you really here?’ she countered. She wasn’t about to confess now that she’d been wearing one of the three T-shirts he’d managed to leave behind every day for the last week.
‘Yeah. I figured I left some stuff behind here.’
‘Like your T-shirts?’
‘And my heart.’
‘Oh.’ Her own heart was hammering against her chest, a constant reminder that it was still inside her and beating and loving and that maybe she might consider just listening to it for once.
And for the first time since she couldn’t remember when—Daisy decided to do just that.
* * *
This would be so much easier if she didn’t look like a startled rabbit. An adorable startled rabbit wearing his T-shirt, but still. Her eyes—wide and confused—were giving nothing away. He’d been so sure—well, Harry had been sure enough for both of them—that if he came back then they could figure it all out. Even Kevin had thought it was a good idea—if only because, if Milli wasn’t in Jay’s future, he wanted to make sure that they at least had Daisy back on tour, along with the new songs they had written.
But now he was here, looking into those wide eyes, other than the relief of being with her again, Jay wasn’t sure of anything at all.
No. That wasn’t true. He was sure of one thing: he couldn’t risk not trying.
He’d called his mum, in the end. Asked her to tell him all about his dad, about their relationship. How she knew it was the for ever kind of love.
‘Honestly, Jay?’ his mum had said. ‘I’m not sure you can ever know for sure—maybe not until it’s gone. But you can hope. You can take a chance and you can work for it, if she’s worth it. Because if it is true love, then it’ll all work out. If it doesn’t it wasn’t meant to be. You can’t know which it is without trying, and without hope and hard work.’
So Jay took a step closer, and hoped.
‘I came back because I realised I was wrong. One fake relationship wasn’t anything like the other. When I was with Milli... I thought our relationship was something that it wasn’t. I believed that we could have a future together. That we could love each other. And when I realised that she’d never believed either of those things...it shook my faith in love altogether.’
‘I know,’ Daisy said quietly, but there was still a hint of her old mocking tones in her voice that made him smile. ‘You were grumpy as anything when we started this tour together.’
‘But you changed that.’
‘That much sex will cheer anyone up,’ she joked.
Jay shook his head. ‘You just can’t stop yourself, can you? I meant the faith-in-love thing, not just the being grumpy.’
‘Oh.’ That, at least, seemed to render her speechless. Jay decided he’d better get in with what else he needed to say before she found another flip remark to make.
‘Because the thing is, Daisy, being in a fake relationship with you felt more real than any real relationship I’ve ever had. And I think we gave up on it too quick, because we were both scared of getting it wrong. At least, I know I was. You were so adamant that it was all for show that I believed you, even though I knew for me it was something more. And maybe you don’t feel the same
—maybe it really was just all fake for you. And if that’s the case, I’ll get over it, eventually, I’m sure. But if you do—if you think there might be something real between us underneath all the pretending...well, I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t find out.’
He stopped and waited for her response.
It didn’t come.
Doubt started to creep into Jay’s mind. Maybe her jokes were attempts at deflection—to avoid having this conversation in the first place. To stop him making a fool of himself because, despite everything, Daisy wasn’t cruel.
Maybe Harry was wrong.
He felt a rough lapping at his hand and looked down to find Genevieve nibbling on his fingers. At least someone seemed genuinely pleased to see him, if only because she was hoping he’d brought food.
But Daisy was still staring at him.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Maybe I—’
‘No!’ Lurching forward, Daisy grabbed his hand and held it against her T-shirt-clad chest. ‘No. I’m sorry. I... I lied when I said it was all fake. I lied because I was scared. Because I’d just figured out that I was in love with you, and you were going back to Milli—’
‘I never went back to Milli. Not for one night.’
She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter. The point is, I was terrified of getting my heart broken. Of feeling more for you than I knew what to do with and not wanting anything in return. And if you didn’t want me as a fake fiancée, I didn’t know what you wanted from me at all, and that scared me. In my world...you always need to know what the deal is. What you’re giving and what you’re getting. Or what you’re giving up.’
‘I would never ask you to give up anything,’ he swore.
She flashed him a small smile and carried on. ‘And with you... I just felt so much, got so much. And I didn’t know what you wanted in return.’
‘You,’ he whispered. ‘All you ever have to be for me is yourself. Because just being with you gives me everything I need. Music, laughter, passion—and love. Those are all I want in this world. Well, those and truth.’
‘I could give you those,’ Daisy whispered, and when she looked up at him there was such hope in her eyes that Jay knew that, from now on, everything would be all right. As long as they were together.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small box. ‘Harry gave me this to give to you.’ He flipped it open. ‘It’s our grandma’s engagement ring. Seems he knew how I felt about you before even I did, when he asked mum for it.’
‘It’s beautiful.’ Daisy seemed mesmerised by the twisting lines of silver, specked with tiny diamonds and sapphires.
‘It’s nothing like as valuable as the one I bought you in Rome, but—’
‘But it’s real.’
‘I was going to say you can play guitar wearing it.’
She grinned at that. ‘That too. But, Jay—’
‘The whole world already thinks we’re engaged. And I don’t want to rush you into anything—we can wait years to get married if that’s what you need. But I’d like you to wear this ring. So whenever I’m not there to remind you, you’ll know that I love you.’
Wordlessly, she held up her left hand and Jay slipped the huge diamond from her finger and replaced it with his grandmother’s ring, love and happiness pulsing through every inch of him. ‘Marry me, Daisy? For real?’
‘For real,’ she agreed, reaching up to kiss him. ‘And for always.’
EPILOGUE
WELL, I HAVE to confess that’s not exactly how I expected things to go.
I didn’t need the report that landed on my desk that morning to follow the effects of this gift. Max and I had watched the whole thing play out in real time on social media, with Max begging for snacks at my side and me handing them over because I was so distracted by the twists and turns of the story.
One thing I didn’t know, however—and possibly never will—was how much of what I saw was real and how much fabricated for the media. Maybe Daisy will tell me one day if I ask.
She hasn’t contacted me yet, but I suspect she will soon. She’ll have questions, I’m sure.
I spotted her through the crowds that night in Rome, but resisted the urge to seek her out. When one is giving a person something they need, sometimes it’s better to stay out of the way until they realise that they need it too. At least in my experience.
When I saw Milli Masters, of all people, standing in front of the old cottage where I used to holiday as a child, I was worried that the whole plan might have backfired horribly. The romance part was outside my control, of course—all I did was give Daisy a place to escape, a place to call her own. Who she took there with her was entirely her own choice.
But I hated to think that the place might become associated with such bad memories that she’d shut it up and never go back there. Max and I definitely had a few sleepless nights over that one.
Then, this morning, when I knew that Daisy must already be back on tour with her beau and his band, she posted a photo on social media. Her and Jay and a goat, standing on a cliff, with the cottage in the background. He had one arm around her waist, the other presumably holding the camera, and she was on tiptoe kissing his cheek. The goat was eating his shirt, but he didn’t seem to have noticed.
The caption underneath? One word: Home.
And that was when I knew that my gift had steered me right once again. I’ve given Daisy what she needed most in the world: a place of her own, where she can just be herself and know that’s more than enough.
I just hope I can have the same success with Aubrey’s gift...
* * *
If you missed the previous story in A Fairytale Summer! trilogy, look out for
Cinderella’s New York Fling
by Cara Colter
And look out for the next book Dream Vacation, Surprise Baby by Ally Blake
Coming soon!
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Sophie Pembroke
Second Chance for the Single Mom
Snowbound with the Heir
Pregnant on the Earl’s Doorstep
All available now!
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Hired by the Unexpected Billionaire
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CHAPTER ONE
A SECRET WAS a funny thing. A person could totally forget the worst part of her past, build a new life and be perfectly content, only to have fear turn her blood to ice water when a memory burst in her brain.
She’d been here before.
Marnie Olsen cautiously stepped into Manhattan’s Shutto Building, her heart pounding. Brushed metal handrails enhanced the open stairway on the right. Sleek, sophisticated silver cylinders hung from the high ceiling, lighting the lobby. The dark, delicious scent of coffee floated out from Caffeine Burst, a coffee shop on the left. A doorman in a black sweater over a white shirt and red tie stood by a shiny desk. It was early July, but the air-conditioning was cranked up to high. Probably so he could wear the fancy sweater.
She took a breath, forcing away her fear. It had been ten years. Roger Martin wouldn’t be here. Even if his father still worked on the nineteenth floor, Roger should have his own job by now. Hopefully in a building far, far away. Plus, the odds of her seeing him were slim. She’d be in and out of her interview in less than an hour.
Shaky but determined, she strode to the desk and the doorman. “I’m Marnie Olsen. I have an interview with Attorney Manelli at Waters, Waters and Montgomery. He said you’d point me to the private elevato
r and give me the code.”
The older man frowned and walked from behind the desk. “I’ll punch in the code.”
She smiled. “Great.”
But her confidence took a direct hit. Danny Manelli had told her the elevator code changed hourly. The doorman could have given it to her and by the time her interview was over, it would be different. But no. He saw her simple summer blazer and scuffed shoes and didn’t assume she’d just worked her way through university. He saw trash. A low-class woman trying for a high-class job.
Embarrassment heated her face. She hadn’t always been poor. She was the daughter of Eddie Gouse, Manhattan real estate mogul. But he’d packed his things and taken her brother, leaving her mom desperately broke with a twelve-year-old daughter to raise. That, in Marnie’s mind, was the real beginning of her secret.
The doorman punched in the code and took another look at her before he sniffed in derision and walked away.
As the elevator door closed, she pulled in a shivery breath. She’d literally thought her life was over, thought there was no way she’d ever pass a company’s investigatory process to get a job. Then she’d found nannying. The service investigated all their applicants. She’d spilled the details of her life once. They vetted her, discovered her secret and cleared her. As long as she worked for them, no one else had to look into her past. Her secret stayed locked away. And she had a nice, secure job from which she could eventually make a nice, secure life.
There was nothing to worry about.
In seconds, Danny Manelli’s private elevator arrived at his office. Before the door opened, Marnie composed herself, prayed to relax and pasted a smile on her face.
The panels slowly slid apart and the office beyond, though decorated with shiny oak furniture, was empty, except for a puppy standing on the chair, his front paws on the desk, his head down as if he were reading the document in front of him.
Italian Escape with Her Fake Fiancé Page 15