The Reluctant Celebrity (10 page)

‘Jules?
Can you hear me?’           

‘Umm.’
She opened her eyes, blinking through the clumps of sawdust and dirt that had stuck
like glue to her eyelashes. A soft glow from a bedside lamp illuminated the
room.

‘Jules,
how many fingers am I holding up?’ Rich’s voice broke into her consciousness.
She could smell the soft hints of his aftershave and felt the warmth of his
body leaning over her.

Running
a finger across her eyelids, she removed the grit and focused her gaze on the
hand waving in front of her face.

‘Four?’
      

‘Good.’

‘Did
I pass?’ she mumbled.

‘Yep
you’ll live. Had us scared there for a while though,’ he replied.

‘I
seem to be making a habit of waking up in your bed,’ Jules lifted her head from
the pillow, relieved to find her vision had stopped spinning.    

‘What
can I say? I’m irresistible,’ Rich replied, his eyes crinkling with his smile
as he sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Can I get you anything? Water? A
three-course dinner? Cup of tea?’

‘What
time is it?’

Rich
pulled up the sleeve of his pale blue jumper. It matched the colour of his eyes
perfectly.

‘Seven-thirty.’

‘Feels
more like midnight.’

‘You’ve
had quite a day.’       

As
if to remind her,
The Daily’s
headline from that morning bounced back
into her mind, causing a flush of heat to travel across her face.

It
made no sense. A national tabloid had published a story about her. Not Guy, the
one who was supposed to be famous, but her. She was nobody. And then it turns
out, her house is supposedly haunted by an old woman who caused the stairs to
fall down on top of her.

If
it wasn’t for the ache pouring out from every muscle of her body she might have
laughed at how ridiculous it all seemed.

‘Hey,’
Rich said, his hand resting on her shoulder, ‘Are you okay? I could drive you
to A&E?’   

Jules’
eyes looked towards him. The blonde stubble on his face had returned.

‘I’m
fine really. I was just thinking, it feels like all I ever say to you is thank
you and sorry, but I am sorry for what I said to you this morning. I was upset
but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.’

‘Hey,
it’s fine.’ Rich removed his hand, raking it through his hair. ‘I have no idea
how it feels to have half the country know about my past, but I’d probably
react in the exact same way you did.’

‘I
doubt that.’ Jules thought back to her earlier outburst. ‘It doesn’t seem like
much phases you. And thank you for helping me and carrying me up here too.’

‘Well
thank Stan and Dan too. It took all three of us to get you up the stairs.’

‘What?’
Jules pushed her body up, resisting the desire to cry out as pain shot through
her limbs. 

‘Sorry,
bad joke.’

‘Ha
ha,’ she replied with a smile. ‘Just for that you can make me a cup of tea.’

‘Coming
right up’

Jules
dragged her body up to sitting, resting her back against the pillows as she
realised with horror just how much dirt had covered her in the fall, most of
which had transferred to Rich’s navy bed covers.

With
as much movement as her arms would allow, she swept her hands across the bed,
pushing the powdery grey dirt to the floor before Rich returned and she’d have
to apologise for something else.

‘Err
Jules, what are you doing?’ Rich appeared in the doorway, a tray in his arms.

‘Sorry,
I just...I’ve made a right mess of your sheets,’ she replied, scrunching her
face in embarrassment.

‘I
don’t know if you’ve noticed,’ he began, stepping towards her, ‘but Max is
hardly the tidiest of housemates. Anyway, here you go, tea as promised, and I
thought you could do with eating something,’ he said, placing a black round
tray on her lap.

Jules’
stomach churned at the sight of two thick slices of white toast, smothered in
melted butter. A low grumble escaped from her body. Apart from the half-eaten
corn flakes, she hadn’t thought about food all day. No wonder she fainted,
Jules thought, berating her own stupidity and taking a huge bite of the fresh
crispy bread. 

‘I
got Dan to call Mrs Beckwith. She’s left a key underneath the front doormat for
you,’ he said, taking up his perch next to her again.

‘Thank
you,’ Jules replied between mouthfuls.

‘But
you’re welcome to stay here if you don’t feel up to walking back,’ he added,
placing a hand on her leg just as Jules stuffed another oversized piece of
toast into her mouth.

‘Oh’
she replied, between chews. The pressure of his hand on her leg made her hear
bound.

A long
silence hung between them as Jules’ mouth battled with the clump of toast; her
appetite disappearing as quickly as it had returned.

‘I…’
she began after several swallows. Washing the lump of food down with a sip of
hot tea. ‘I…’ Jules said again, grappling for a response.

Why
shouldn’t she stay? Rich had been so sweet to her over the past couple of days
and the warmth of his flat felt so inviting; not to mention his deep blue eyes.
She definitely found him attractive. If only she could be sure that the butterflies
in her stomach were for desire rather than despair.

She
really did want to say yes, but the memory of Phillip’s woeful story was still
fresh in her mind. Everything with him had been a lie. She hadn’t wanted to be
in the same room with him, let alone date him. She’d done it anyway though,
just so she could tell herself she was over Guy.

In
fact, at that moment, lying on Rich’s bed, Jules couldn’t remember feeling much
of anything for the handful of men she’d dated since Phillip.

Jules
shook her head, grateful for the dizzying headache washing away her thoughts.
Now was not the time to be digging up her past.
The Daily
was doing
quite enough of that already.  

Eventually,
she looked up at Rich, meeting his gaze. ‘I’m not really with it tonight Rich.
Rain cheque?’

‘Sure
no problem. I’m here if you need me.’ Rich stood from the bed, his frame
towering over her.     

‘Thanks,’
she replied with relief.  

‘How
about I walk you back to Mrs Beckwith’s then?’

‘Thanks,
but there’s no need, I know the way.’

Rich
let out a large sigh. ‘Jules, you’ve had a nasty fall. I’m not trying to be a
knight in shining armour here. I just want to make sure you don’t faint again,
okay?’

‘Okay’
she agreed with a small nod.

Jules
lifted her face towards the cloudless sky as they walked slowly up the lane. A
thousand stars shone back, glimmering like a spray of glitter against black
paper.

‘How
are you finding it here?’ Rich asked, breaking the silence between them.

Jules
didn’t answer for a moment as she thought of the beautiful valley she’d looked
across on her first day, the people she’d met – Terri, Dan, Jason, Rich, and
all the others hell bent on befriending her. Their desire to interfere
infuriated her, yet, how far would she have got without their help?

‘Good,
I think.’

‘Will
you stay?’

‘I
don’t know yet,’ she answered honestly. Only as the words left her mouth did
she realise she had actually been considering living in the house herself. She pushed
the thought away. There was nothing here for her. She would move on eventually,
she always did.

They
fell silent, neither pushing the subject further. Jules felt suddenly nervous
as they approached the welcoming glow of Mrs Beckwith’s porch. 

Something
in her relationship with Rich had shifted. The easy banter between them had
been replaced with a stiff tension crackling between them in the crisp night
air.

As
if reading her thoughts, Rich turned his body towards her, his wide chest
covering her view as he stepped closer.

Slipping
one arm around her waist, she felt his strength sweep her towards him. Stooping
his neck to the side, he scraped his stubble gently across her face as he moved
his lips towards her, sending a fizz of
déjà vu
hurtling through her.

A
suffocating dizziness took hold as Rich’s mouth touched her. It had been a long
time since she’d felt the sweeping wave of desire, but something didn’t feel
right. She couldn’t breathe, she realised as panic took hold.  

Struggling
to unravel herself from his arms, she pulled herself back, gasping the air from
the night. 

‘Sorry,
I…’ Jules spluttered. She had no idea what happened. She liked Rich, didn’t
she?

 ‘No
I’m sorry,’ Rich cut in, pushing both hands through his hair. ‘You’ve had a big
day; I don’t know what I was thinking.’

‘It’s
okay. It’s not you, it’s me, the concussion,’ she blurted, cringing at her own
weak excuse.

They
stared at each other for a moment, neither speaking.

Rich
took a breath. ‘Well Good night then.’

‘Good
night, and thanks again Rich, for everything.’

‘Anytime.’
He nodded. Then with a short wave he turned back to the road and started
walking.

What
had just happened? Jules wondered as she retrieved Mrs Beckwith’s spare key
from under the mat and slipped into the silent house.

She
brushed the tips of her fingers against the spot Rich’s cheek had grazed against
hers. For the smallest of moments she’d thought of Guy and the way his stubble
used to rub her skin raw.

The suddenness
of the memory filtered through her body in a desperate longing before she could
stop it. She fought back a sob threatening to burst out, blocking Guy from her
thoughts with a tight grind of her teeth.

It
was just the fall, she told herself. Guy was not, and would never be a part of
her life. It was Rich she should be thinking of, Jules told herself as she filled
a bath with hot water of the bath. 

The
next time she found herself in Rich’s arms she wouldn’t pull away. 

SUNDAY,
FEBRUARY 23
^RD

CELEB
SOT

Gorgeous Guy performs live

Record breaking singer,
Guy Rawson will be performing songs from his debut album ‘Regret’ tonight for
the sell-out crowd at the 02 Brixton Academy. Seeing the star? Text Celeb Spot
to 88309 and be one of our
Reader
Reviewers
.  

‘You
were amazing,’ Sonja screeched into his ringing ears as he stepped backstage.

‘Thanks,’
Guy replied, running a hand across his damp forehead.

‘Loved
the pause in the middle of “A Goodbye Fool”. You had the crowd gagging for
more.’

‘Really?’ Guy searched Sonja’s glistening face for the
hidden meaning in her comment. The heat from the stage lights had melted her
make-up into a slippery sheen, as if at any moment it would slide from her face
and reveal a different person underneath.

Like
so many publicists and media types he’d met, her features seemed sharper than
most. Guy often wondered if a special human sub-breed had been created for
their unusual mix of celebrity pandering and killer media instinct.

‘Totally.’
Her narrow eyes caught his.

She
must have known that the pause had not been intentional. He had choked; plain
and simple. The silence of the crowd had been deafening. 

Usually
he clicked onto autopilot when he stepped onto the stage. Ignoring everything
except the movement of his fingers across his guitar strings and the sound of
his voice reaching into the crowded room.

The
set had been going well. He’d warmed up the audience with ‘Regret’ and kept
them going through the song list stowed in his head. But something had changed.
The opening chords of the fifth song had reached deep inside him, digging out
the emotions of the lyrics and catching in his throat like a noose tightening
around his neck. The seconds had ticked slowly by as he’d found himself unable
to breathe let alone sing.

‘Awesome
set mate.’ A backstage technician clapped a hand on Guy’s shoulder, breaking
his thoughts. ‘Come on, it’s this way guys.’

‘Cheers,’
Guy replied as the man led them through the dark narrow hallway and through to
the dressing room.

The
space doubled as a storage area with stacks of chairs lining the back wall.
Depending on the line-up, the windowless room could have up to twenty musicians
crowded into it. The nerves and the adrenaline made for a lethal mix when it
came to sharing the space, and Guy was relieved to find it empty.   

 ‘Anything
you need?’ the technician asked with a friendly smile.

A
hot shower, a cold beer and an early night, Guy thought. He had no idea when
Sunday night gigs had become so popular, but he missed Debbie’s roast dinners
and an evening sprawled in front of the telly.

‘Guy?’
Sonja prompted.

‘Sorry,
no I’m good thanks mate.’

‘Well
hang around as much as you like, we’ll be closing up in about an hour, but the
band before you are over in the Far Side Bar if you fancy a pint.’

‘Maybe
next time,’ Sonja answered, before Guy had a chance to accept. ‘We’ve got
somewhere else to be tonight.’

‘No
worries, see you around,’ the man replied, already moving back through the
doorway.

Sonja
spun on the points of her vast heels, turning her sizable cleavage towards him.
‘So shall we head off then?’ she asked with an arch of her pencilled eyebrow.

For
once, Guy did not need an interpreter to find the meaning behind her words.
After all, they’d been building up to this moment for most of the week.

It
had started with the flirtatious dinner the night he’d returned from seeing
Juliet. However much Guy hated to admit it, he’d enjoyed the attention after
his earlier knock back. Sonja had an amazing knack for making people feel good.
It seemed to be the way she said things rather than what she said. Touching his
hand when she spoke, or staring intently into his eyes when he talked.  

Before
he knew it, she had proposed a celebratory drink after his set that night, with
more than enough suggestion in her voice for Guy to catch her drift.    

It
had seemed like a good idea at the time. He was supposed to be getting back in
the game after all. But something didn’t feel right. He was living the dream -
the rock and roll lifestyle – a packed-out performance followed by a shag with
a gorgeous woman. So why did he wish he would just wake-up from it all?

‘Guy?
Did you hear me?’

‘Absolutely,’
he nodded, pushing his face into a smile. ‘Let’s go.’

Guy
gave himself a mental slap. He needed to stop thinking so much. Sex with a good
looking woman did not require the same level of contemplation most men put into
a marriage proposal. It was no wonder he’d had a problem last time. 

‘Fabulous,’
she purred, her hand touching his arm as they negotiated their way through the
corridors and out the back door.

Guy
unlocked the front door of his large studio flat, pushing it open for Sonja to
enter first.

‘Can
I get you a drink?’ 

‘Twist
my arm why don’t you,’ she replied, with a giggle that sounded to Guy like
something from a David Attenborough documentary on jungle mating calls. It had
taken the mercifully quick car journey home for him to realise just how
annoying her laugh was.

Don’t
think, he reminded himself as he moved into the spacious kitchen area and
yanked open the door of his huge silver fridge.

His
gaze fell straight to the slim green beer bottles lining the top shelf. Their
smooth German taste had become a customary part of his post-performance
wind-down. Somehow he couldn’t imagine Sonja’s bright red lips wrapping
themselves around the bottle.

Instead,
Guy reached for the bottle of Bollinger that had lingered at the back of his
fridge for longer than he could remember.

‘Oo
lovely,’ Sonja cooed as Guy handed her the tulip glass and fell onto the
opposite end of the sofa.

In a
single movement, she threw back her head of dark red hair and emptied the
contents of the glass.

‘Thirsty?’
He forced a smirk.

‘You’d
better believe it.’ Sonja shifted her body along the sofa towards him.

Before
he could find a reason to move, her face was looming next to his. He let his
lips part and felt the smoothness of her tongue dart across his own as she
leaned against him. This was the point he’d expect the first yearn of desire to
move beneath his jeans. Instead Guy felt an emptiness so deep it filled him
with a terrifying sadness.

Out
of nowhere, Debbie’s voice jumped into his conscious: ‘You’re not happy.’

Whether
it was the sentiment behind the voice or the fact that it came from his sister,
Guy had no idea, but it unnerved him.

He
pulled his head away, fighting the urge to push Sonja back. 

‘Is
everything alright?’ she asked, reaching for the glass in his hand and taking a
long sip.

‘Yeah
of course. I’m just going to grab a quick shower. That stage was pretty hot.’

‘Want
some company?’ 

‘Err,’
Guy wrestled for a response other than the rude retort balanced on the tip of
his tongue.

‘I
was kidding Guy, go on, I’ve got a few phone calls to make anyway,’ she replied,
pulling her enormous purple bag from the floor.

‘Great,
I won’t be a sec.’

He
forced his body to move at normal pace as he escaped from the sofa. He loved
the large open space of his studio apartment in the nice end of Camden, only a
few roads away from
Regents Park
. But all of a sudden he wished he had
another room to hide in. He suddenly felt very conscious of his bed, lying
empty just across the room from where Sonja sat.  

His
flat would probably be described as minimalist. Something that seemed to be
considered as a good thing on the rare occasions he invited colleagues and
acquaintances in for drink. Only Debbie laughed at his inability to buy
furniture or decorate. But to Guy the place had never felt like his.

He
had bought it outright after his second contract with
GiGi
had been
signed. A trendy flat in a trendy location for a so-called trendy model. It had
taken him until recently to realise that the studio had never felt like home.
Home was the messy room he’d shared with Juliet at University, or Debbie’s
house, full of life and love.

Grabbing
some fresh clothes from a long mirrored wardrobe, Guy stepped into the black
and white tiled bathroom and locked the door.

Within
seconds, his naked body stepped underneath the powerful spray of hot water.

Guy
closed the lids of his eyes and dropped his head, relishing the pricks of heat
bouncing onto the back of his neck.

As
he felt the adrenaline from his performance slip away and his muscles unwind,
her image floated back into his head. The way her face had softened when she’d
seen him, the widening of her already huge green eyes.

Juliet’s
face had been haunting him for days, keeping him from sleep at night and
nudging him awake each morning.

With
his eyes still closed, Guy moved his body to face the water, twisting the dial
to cold. With a sharp intake of breath he felt every inch of his body break
into goose bumps as the icy water flooded over him.

Still
her face danced in front of him.

Maybe,
just maybe, Guy let himself wonder, as he turned off the water and reached for
a towel, a part of her had been pleased to see him.

It
felt good to stop hiding from it. Maybe he had been right after all. He had
hardly stuck around long enough to find out, he thought, reaching for the door
handle.

Suddenly,
Guy remembered what awaited him from behind the single lock of the bathroom
door and his spirits sank. He couldn’t do it. It had nothing to do with his
body; his heart just wasn’t in it.

He dressed quickly, pulling on a fresh pair of jeans
and an old grey t-shirt and stepped bare foot from the steamy bathroom; his
lungs filling with a sharp intake of breath as his eyes took in the view in
front of him.

Sonja
sat exactly as he’d left her, with one small difference. She was naked.

Instinct
pulled his eyes to the curves of her enhanced breasts, following the line of
her petite body all the way to her feet, still encased in her giant heels.  

‘I’ve
got a surprise for you,’ she purred.

‘I
can see that,’ Guy responded, rooted to the spot as he struggled to regain
control of his wandering eyes.

‘Well
two surprises then.’ A wide smile crossed her face. ‘I’ve just got off the
phone with my contact at
The Daily
.’ Sonja paused to take another sip
from his champagne glass.

If he’d
felt the slightest bit aroused by the naked woman perched on his sofa, it
evaporated at the mention of the tabloid, which seemed to have dominated his
life of late. Although he only had himself to blame for that.  

Sonja
finished the fizzing liquid and continued, ‘they are doing a double page spread
in tomorrow’s paper.’

‘Really?
What’s the angle?’

‘Well
it’s actually on that girl they’re fixated on, but they’re only doing it
because of you’

Shit;
this could not be good, he thought.

‘They’ve
have found some more people to go on the record then I assume?’ Guy asked.

‘Like
you wouldn’t believe. Apparently she’s been a bit of a slapper since you broke
up with her.’

‘Damn.’

‘I
have to say Guy,’ Sonja continued as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘I was a bit
sceptical about how the lost love angle would play, but you’ve handled it
perfectly.’

‘It
wasn’t like that,’ he mumbled. ‘This is very bad.’

‘Don’t
worry babe, you’re still mentioned throughout the piece and I gave them a quote
to juice it up a bit.’

‘I
wish you hadn’t,’ Guy responded, thinking of the anger in Juliet’s face last
time he’d seen her.

‘That’s
my job Guy. But hey, I think that’s enough work for one night, don’t you?’ She
stood from the sofa without the slightest hesitation and crossed the room
towards him.

Guy
could not stop his gaze from falling back to her huge breasts. They remained perfectly
pert and as she sauntered towards him.

Panic
crept over him. He had to get this woman out of his flat before he lost his
resolve.

‘Actually
Sonja, my sister called just as I was getting out of the shower and she needs someone
to babysit for her, it’s an emergency,’ he lied.

‘What’s
happened?’ Sonja demanded, stopping a metre from where he stood and placing her
hands on her hips.

Guy
dropped his gaze, unable to look at her without staring at the hard points of
her nipples.