One Fine Day. Teresa Morgan F.
a quick call. “Yes, I’m round the back.” She hung up, but remained clutching her phone as she focussed on Steve again – he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “One of us would have to sacrifice our work. I’m not prepared to do that, and you’re not either.”
“How do you know? I’d give it up for you.”
“I don’t want you to give it up for me. You’re on the verge of being the hottest new star in Hollywood. You should be happy.”
“I am but I want to be happier – with you.” He couldn’t believe he’d never hold this woman again, never kiss or make love to her. The thought made him miserable. He couldn’t imagine life without Erica Kealey. How did he make her see they were perfect together?
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I never meant to hurt you.” Then, hesitantly, she gently kissed him on the cheek. The doorman pulled open the door, and Erica confidently sashayed out the back of the hotel to her awaiting limo. There were a few opportunist photographers, held back by some security. Like strobe lighting effects, camera flashes followed her. Steve watched her elegantly step into the limo, disappearing into its blackness. Tomorrow the whole world would know Erica Kealey had dumped Hollywood heart-throb Steve Mason.
As the limo drove off, the pressure building in Steve’s chest rose to his throat and his eyes stung. The last time he’d cried was at his mother’s funeral, and even then, he’d hidden his grief from prying eyes. In the privacy of his apartment, he could allow his emotions to show, but not here. He needed to return to the party.
How was he supposed to appear happy, when the woman he had planned to spend the rest of his life with had just walked out of it?
Sunday 6th October
Steve stretched and yawned. He was only half way through his eleven-hour flight to London. At least, travelling first class, he could sleep for some of it, but he never truly allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep. He had to keep his wits about him, especially as he’d left his bodyguards behind. The stewardess had come along and put a blanket over him and constantly checked he was comfortable.
Of course she would do, he was Steve Mason, after all.
Like all stewardesses, she wore perfect make-up and precision styled hair. She looked pretty, but he did wonder what she’d look like with the cosmetics removed. Yet it made the flight pleasant. He wasn’t going to complain when a pretty girl gave him attention. She had to be around her mid-twenties. Some of the flight attendants were older, but this particular stewardess was his, it seemed. All the other travellers could whistle; she only had eyes for him.
When he couldn’t snooze he put his nose in a book or watched the in-flight movies. His latest movie, Perfection was available but he skipped that one. How vain would it look to be watching your own movie?
However, a glimpse of Erica would have been nice.
He couldn’t believe how much he still missed her.
“Are you ready for some breakfast, Mr Mason?” the stewardess said, in her beautifully British accent, which was from somewhere around the London area.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, sounding very American. He adjusted his chair with the ever-helpful stewardess assisting. He checked her name badge. “Thank you, Suzie,” he said, giving her his best smile. He had been fortunately blessed with straight teeth.
“So is this trip for business or pleasure?” Suzie placed a breakfast tray in front of him. She was flirting, he knew that, the way she looked at him out the corner of her eye, the smile in her voice. He was used to women flirting with him, he preferred it to them reacting oddly, acting either incredibly shy, or throwing themselves at him, claiming they loved him and wanted to have his babies.
At least she hadn’t done that yet.
He used to get plenty of attention from the ladies before he was famous – now it was a given. He was up there with Robert Pattinson, having women’s underwear thrown at him.
“I’m going to see my sister.”
“You have a sister in London?”
“Not quite in London, no.” Maybe it was best not to give Ruby’s location away, he didn’t need the press chasing after him. The idea was to lay low for a bit. “But not far.”
“Well, I hope you brought your winter jacket, we’re having a cold October.”
“Yeah, I’ve packed my sweaters.” He winked, and she coyly smiled.
Suzie attended to another passenger – who had been huffing loudly at all the attention Steve had been getting – then returned with a coffee pot. Steve had started eating his breakfast, welcoming the food. For some reason, although he found others complained a lot about it – especially the celebrities – he really liked in-flight food. But then he’d been brought up never to be fussy – and to clear his plate.
“Coffee, sir?”
“Please, need something to wake me up.”
“You know, I’m sorry you and Erica Kealey didn’t work out. I thought you made a beautiful couple,” Suzie said, pouring him a cup of coffee. Steve’s expression must have shown surprise. He closed his mouth and blinked. “Oh, I am sorry.” Even with her heavy make-up Suzie couldn’t hide her blushing – he watched her neck flush pink.
He laughed and waved it off. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting someone to comment, that’s all. The whole affair wasn’t too pretty.”
And he wasn’t quite over Erica. He still missed her – loving her, and being loved back. He’d hoped she’d be the one. She’d left a huge void in his life.
“I’m sure you won’t be on your own for long.” Suzie said, not quite meeting his gaze.
His stewardess was persistent, he’d give her that. But he didn’t mind, she was actually talking to him like he was a human being and not a god. She was prying, but then, they were all nosy when it came to fame and fortune. Suzie, albeit flirty and unprofessional, was still pleasant to talk to.
“No,” he said, laughing it off. “If I was, wouldn’t you know? The press know our secrets before we do.” He raised his eyebrows knowingly as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
“Oh, you celebrities have a way of hiding things, you never know what to believe in the press. I don’t read the papers myself.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t. Most of it isn’t true.”
“Or it’s blown out of proportion,” she said.
“Yes, that’s true.” He sighed. “Basically, I need a vacation. Preferably without the press hounding me.”
He never thought he’d say this but he needed time out of LA. He needed time away from Hollywood and the limelight. His popularity had erupted suddenly and he still hadn’t adjusted. Hopefully, in the UK he might fade into the background a little, if he kept a low profile. Even his agent had suggested him taking a couple of weeks off, seeing the fallout from Erica’s betrayal.
He’d just finished filming his next movie, Nothing Happened, which was due out next summer, plus all the other stuff that went with a movie release. He’d still had to do the rounds for Perfection; TV chat shows, magazine interviews, radio shows. His schedule had been hectic over the last few months, and he wanted to remove himself from it, slow things down.
Steve had locked up his Hollywood apartment, handed the keys to his personal assistant Marie, and told her he was taking a vacation. While he sneaked out of LA, his PA arranged for a guy who’d doubled for him on Perfection to spend a couple of weeks sunbathing in the Caribbean at an exclusive resort with a private