Just a Fan (6 page)

And hadn't he made me see that he was really just a man like any other? Why shouldn't I make the first move? If there was a chance that he would leave me and forget me, then I would never forgive myself if I knew I had passed up this golden opportunity right here, right now. My skin was tingling. There were several ways this could go, but the important thing was that I had to act
now
. If I didn't reach out and touch his hand at this very moment, I knew I never would...

Wasn't this like a date, anyway? My own hand twitched in the direction of his, anticipating the strange but welcome feel of his warm skin -

Just as my hand slid casually forwards, he lifted his off the table.

At first I thought he had taken it away in shock, but when I looked up I saw that he wasn't looking at
me
at all - he was looking behind me, at the glass door of the café, and his hand was raised in an enthusiastic wave.

Feeling a blush of humiliation at my botched move coming on, I turned around to see who he was waving so cheerfully at...

...and by
God
did I wish I hadn't.

Swaying towards our little table outside was a tall, stylishly-dressed woman wearing a blue, short coat and dark tights that showed off every inch of her offensively long, toned legs. Her black, high-heeled shoes clopped on the paving stones, and her very smart handbag was tucked elegantly under one arm. Her make-up was so perfectly done that she could have been a professional at it, and her flawlessly glossed lips were stretched in a strawberry smile directed straight at Connor. Her eyes, a rich hazel in colour, shone as her wavy golden locks bounced on her shoulders.

I tried to become invisible. Unfortunately for me, my attempt proved unsuccessful, so all I could do was sit there in dumb shock as Connor got to his feet and kissed her on the perfect cheek. I stared at them as they greeted each other, both beaming brightly. I was struck by how absolutely perfect they looked together - how well they set each other off. They were both just about faultless in appearance, both well-dressed...both from the same world, apparently. Worse still, Connor's dark curls and the woman's flaxen waves went together so terribly well. Anyone who saw them would think they were a couple...

Were
they? I felt suddenly mortified. Here was me, thinking I had this wonderful man all to myself when really he was already taken. And I had almost tried to touch his hand, for God's sake! What had I been
thinking
? Connor and...
me
? There was only one way that could go:
nowhere
. Especially since he had been with this stunningly beautiful girl all of this time...

As they exchanged pleasantries, staring into each other's eyes avidly like two perfect characters in a romance movie, I wildly tried to remember all the names of rumoured or real girlfriends those awful gossip websites had said Connor had...could this lady be Kelsey Moore? No, wait, that had been just a rumour, they hadn't actually gone out for real...Natasha Berkeley? Kaylynn Michaels? The more I thought, the more sickened I felt. How could this be going so wrong?

'...and I'm glad to hear that, too,' Connor was saying lightly, then seemed to remember me. His smile broadened, and he said: 'Jess, this is Lillian Harwick, a friend of mine. Lillian - this is Jess Carlston.'

Jess Carlston smiled at me with an all-too-sincere look in her eyes. 'Nice to meet you,' she told me amically. Oh, no...so she was
nice
as
well
as indecently pretty...

'Nice to meet you, too,' I replied, sounding a little lost.

'Take a seat, Jess, please do - there's plenty of room,' Connor said eagerly, gallantly getting a chair for her.
No, no, no, go away, go away
, I thought desperately, but Jess smiled back at him and answered: 'Oh, thanks, Connor - you don't mind, do you?' She looked at me, asking as if she genuinely cared...which I actually think she did.

'No, not at all,' I lied convincingly. She gave me a bright grin, and sat herself down in the only available space - between me and Connor.

'What luck - I nearly didn't come here at all!' she said vehemently to Connor, consequently turning her back to me. 'I would have completely missed you...'

'Oh, dear,' replied Connor. 'Hey, you look great today, did I tell you that?'

Jess laughed.

'You said it with your smile, Conn,' she told him, too teasingly for my liking. 'Is that a new jacket?'

'Aye, got it a few days ago,' Connor said, nodding. 'Sexy, isn't it?'

'Very! You look good in leather,' Jess answered.

'Ah, you flatter me,' Connor said dismissively, taking a sip of his coffee.

'No, really!' Jess turned to me for support. 'Isn't he superbly sexy in leather?'

'Yep,' I agreed, and then the focus of the perfect pair left me once more.

'See, there's no need to be modest,' Jess prattled on, then giggled as Connor set down his cup.

'What?'

She grinned. 'Coffee moustache! Here let me get it off -'

I sat in helpless silence, watching these two without being able to get a word in edgeways. Not that I would have known what to say...all I could do now was finish my mocha quietly, watching Connor and his beautiful friend laugh together as she dabbed at his face with a paper napkin. I felt horrendously jealous all of a sudden, now that the initial shock had worn off. This outing had been so marvellous at first, had put such
hope
in me...

And now this lovely, painfully friendly woman had gone and crashed our date.

Did I say life was
good
?

Chapter 4

Competition

During the car ride home, all I could do was keep a shamed silence. I found myself feeling dreadfully ordinary and uninteresting after that disaster of a date...if it could even be
called
a date in the first place. I had thought Connor was being extremely friendly to me - until I saw how
very
extremely friendly he was towards that Jess. Even though he had only introduced her to me as a friend of his, I had seen that spark of interest in her eyes...I recognised it because I knew I had it too whenever I looked at Connor. Only she was so
confident
, and so
pretty
, and she knew him already...and what was worse was that she also knew perfectly well that she could easily capture him if she wanted to. And there I was, trying in my own quiet way to reach him...

I couldn't bring myself to speak up as Connor drove me home. I just didn't know what to say; everything I had planned to say before sounded so
dull
in comparison to the lively conversation Jess had had with him. But not talking at all just spread an awful silence between us that made me increasingly agitated. I knew I should break the silence, but I just
couldn't
...I couldn't say anything to this wonderful man when I knew what sort of rival I was up against. Not that Jess was my only rival...I was also against about a million-strong army of fans all desperate for Connor as well. Feeling perfectly depressed now, I stared at the road ahead, not noticing the smoothness of Connor's driving anymore.

When we finally arrived near my apartment, I was in a fully-fledged state of disheartened despair. Nevertheless, I did my best to hide it as he walked me back the rest of the way, always the gentleman.

'Well...thanks so much for taking me out - it was really great,' I told him when we reached the doors of the building. 'I'll be sure to show my friends that café, it's lovely.'

Connor smiled. 'I'm sure they'll like it too,' he replied.

I nodded, and then there was a slight pause that was just long enough to feel awkward. 'So, er...I'd better go and get on with my...my...' I struggled to find a task in my flat that needed doing - not that I didn't have any, but a light breeze was ruffling his curls in such a way that my brain immediately stalled. '...living,' I finished weakly.

Connor gave me an odd look, then nodded slowly, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

'OK, I'll let you get on with your "living",' he replied, making me feel rather silly. Then his expression turned serious. 'But Lillian - are you alright? You looked a bit sad just now.'

'I did?' I replied, bluffing.

He raised his eyebrows at me.

'You wanna tell me about it?' he asked me gently. 'You know I always listen if something's up.'

A sensible person would have just told him outright what the problem was. Unfortunately, it was very,
very
hard to be sensible in the presence of a man like Connor.

'No, really, I'm fine,' I assured him. Connor seemed to accept this finally, and looked away from me. I watched his gaze travel up the building again, a slight furrow puckering his brow. Then, his head turned and he looked back at me again.

'You say the inside of this building's less grim?' he asked me. I nodded, then he gave me a thoughtful smile. 'I wonder what your flat's like...'

Oh, no. No, no, no.
I could see what he was doing immediately, especially when the irresistible grin began to appear on his face.

'It's nothing interesting,' I told him hurriedly. 'In fact, it's not really worth seeing. It's a bit...messy.'

Connor laughed out loud. 'Hey, you are talking to a single man who lives alone and can barely do his own
ironing
here,' he said. 'I think I know the definition of messiness. I lived in it for quite some time. And I think you need the company, for at least a little while.'

I couldn't help laughing, too, and when he gave me a special endearing look it became terribly hard to say no to him.

'I really don't think...' I tried to begin, but he started to stick out his bottom lip and I simply could not continue. I sighed, getting the keys for the apartment building's door. 'Oh, God. Don't say I didn't warn you later, though.'

Connor grinned, a devilishly triumphant expression on his face. 'Bring it on!' he replied happily.

* * *

So I brought it on. I was ready to die of nervousness when I finally let the world-famous Connor MacGowan into my humble little flat, especially since I was now wishing I had done more housework. What if I had left a sock lying around somewhere? What if I had missed a bit of tabletop when I was dusting? I wished I had hoovered a bit more yesterday, too...

However, when Connor entered my flat he didn't immediately run away screaming, which I took to be a good sign. I bit my lip as he looked around himself, wondering what was on his mind.

'Cosy place you have here,' he commented. 'You're right, the inside is much better than the outside.'

I put my hands in my pockets, awkwardly standing beside him.

'It's not much,' I replied modestly. 'The radiators get a bit temperamental, too.'

Connor smiled, and went over to the window, where he looked out at the town. 'I like it,' he told me. 'You know, it...kinda reminds me of home. I used to have a little apartment flat like this when I was in my early twenties...of course, mine was far messier, with socks hanging on lampshades and stuff like that...' I chuckled with him quietly.

'Have a seat,' I invited him, gesturing towards the sofa. Connor obligingly sidled between the sofa and the coffee table and sat himself down. I took a seat on the almost-but-not-quite matching square armchair, then smiled at the unbelieveable sight of Connor himself lounging languidly on my familiar, modest sofa, where I had curled up so many times to watch his greatest films on TV. If only I had known then what I knew now...!

'Very comfortable,' he remarked, crossing one leg casually over the other as he rested his elbows on the back of the sofa.

'Thanks,' I replied with a rather shy smile. He turned his eyes, very blue under their dark eyebrows, straight to me, making my stomach flip.

'You know, I've never properly asked you much about yourself,' he mused. 'We've known each other for a few days now, but there's still stuff I don't know about you.' He cocked his head to one side with a bone-melting smile. 'You're still a bit of a mystery to me...'

I wasn't sure whether this was a compliment or not, so I just gave a half-shrug and said: 'What do you want to know about me?'

Connor narrowed his cornflower-blue eyes pensively, rubbing the rough stubble on his chin with one hand.

'What do you do for a living?' he enquired thoughtfully.

I blushed with embarrassment and lowered my eyes. 'Um...' I murmured something incomprehensible.

Connor raised his eyebrows, leaning forwards slightly. 'Come again?' he asked cheerily.

I sighed; there was no getting out of this.

'I'm a checkout girl at the Golden Panini,' I confessed ashamedly.

Connor blinked at me. 'The Golden Panini?' he repeated.

'Mm. I'm afraid it's not a very glamorous job,' I admitted.

He gave a short laugh. 'The
Golden Panini
,' he said again, staring up at the ceiling reminiscently this time. He gave a little disbelieving shake of his head. 'I've not been able to go anywhere
near
that place for about ten years...'

I frowned at him. I knew the Golden Panini was not the most reknowned of sandwich bars, but there was no need for him to be like
that
...

'It's not
that
bad, you know,' I told him grumpily. 'What is it you have against it so much?'

Connor laughed again. 'Only the fact that I used to work there myself once,' he replied.

I gawped at him. 'You...
you
used to work...
there
?' I simply couldn't imagine him in one of the ghastly purple-and-yellow t-shirts that the staff of the Golden Panini had to wear. Especially not when I was looking at him now in his dangerously stylish leather jacket.

He nodded slowly, lips pursed. 'I was nineteen,' he said. 'I needed some extra money so I got a job at that place.' He gave a little laugh at the memory. 'I was given the job of toasting the paninis on the little grill thing...I told you was an odd-jobs person, didn't I?'

I smiled, still unable to see him standing at a blackened, melted-cheese-coated toasting grill with a white apron on and his glorious curls in a hairnet.

'I had that job for about three months, and then I was fired -' he broke off with a laugh.

'How?' I giggled.

'Well, I'd been out having a pint or five with the lads the night before, and so I came to work with a bit of a hangover,' he explained. 'I wasn't that sharp with the grill, and a bit of burnt panini kinda caught fire...I grabbed some water to put it out, but that only blew up the grill and got me fired.'

'Oh, dear...' I laughed. 'You should have settled for a job at the checkout...'

'Look at this,' Connor said, pulling the cuff of his right jacket sleeve back and turning his wrist outwards. I leaned forwards, frowning, and Connor showed me a faded scar across the side of his hand.

'What's that?' I asked.

Connor grinned. 'Toaster-grill shrapnel,' he told me, tracing the pale line with a finger. 'Caught me on the hand when the whole thing exploded. It was a bit of bad luck, really - it was the only bit of the grill that actually came off, but it still had to hit
me
.'

I shook my head at him in amused awe. 'Even though you started out with a crappy job, you still had such
interesting
things happen to you,' I said in unabashed admiration. 'I've been stuck at that stupid checkout for two years now, but nothing like that ever happened where
I
work...'

'Maybe because the Golden Panini I worked at was in Glasgow,' he replied. 'There were some really hardcore toaster-grills there.'

I laughed again, then looked at him thoughtfully. 'It's incredible...you've come such a long way...' I told him. 'From panini-griller to world-famous actor...that's one hell of a journey. And here's me, twenty-seven and still stuck selling toasted sandwiches, while you were already on the screen by then...'

'You know, I myself still have trouble believing what's happened to me,' he confessed, then put a hand over his eyes. 'Oh, here we go again...I'm so sorry, Lillian, we started out talking about you but now the subject's gone back to
me
again...'

'That's OK,' I replied, shrugging dismissively. 'It's only natural - I mean, you
are
maybe just a
bit
more interesting than me.' My wry tone made him laugh at first, but then he looked at me with a contemplative gaze.