Angel (30 page)

Back in London, the tabloids were busy splashing
the latest celebrity scandal on their front pages –
this time a certain A-list film star's passionate affair
with his children's nanny. Famous as she was, film
stars' private lives tended to overshadow glamour
girls', and to Angel's relief, she discovered that
journalists were no longer camped outside her flat
in hordes. Still, there often seemed to be one or two
lurking around, so she resigned herself to wearing
huge dark glasses and a baseball cap again every
time she left the house, even if the sun wasn't
shining. She had no desire to reveal her emotions
to the waiting photographers.

Carrie seemed to have forgiven her for not
selling a story about Cal, because the news from
America was very good. Larry T. Chance loved the
pictures and wanted to do another shoot with her,
and a TV series wanted her to audition for them.
It really looked like there might be amazing
possibilities for her on the other side of the Atlantic.
At first she was resistant to the idea of moving to the
States, which she would have to do if she got the
part, plus she had never seen herself as an actress,
but when she flicked through the copies of
heat
and
OK!
that had piled up in her flat while she had been
away, she began to think that the States would be a
good idea after all. Every single one was full of
pictures of Cal and Simone, bursting with speculation
about their wedding: would they tie the knot
before or after the baby was born?

On the third night she was home, Angel finally
had to face Tony, an encounter that she really
wasn't looking forward to. She expected him to
blame her for the whole Cal affair, but as it
happened, he was sympathetic and didn't criticise
her at all.

'I love him,' she simply said when he asked her
about it, 'Or I suppose I should say I loved him,
because I'm really trying to get over it.' And then,
because she couldn't resist, she asked, 'Have you
seen him?'

Tony shook his head. 'I haven't seen him since
the stag weekend. He says he's really busy. But I get
the feeling he's avoiding me. There's a chance he
might be going to play for Madrid.'

Angel couldn't help thinking that anything that
took Cal away from London was a good thing. Since
she'd been home, she could hardly bear to spend
time at her flat in Hampstead, dreading every time
she walked down the High Street that she would
bump into him and Simone. She spent as much time
as possible in central London and when she wasn't
working, she went out for dinner with friends or
clubbing – anything to avoid being alone with her
thoughts. She almost thought it was working, except
on those nights she dreamt of Cal and woke up
crying.

'Angel, great news,' Carrie gushed down the phone.
'You've just been booked to present one of the
music awards in a week. It's going to be televised, so
make sure you learn your lines and don't fuck up. I
can't tell you how relieved I am. It shows people are
forgetting about what happened. So get something
sensational to wear and we'll speak soon.'

As Angel put the phone down, she felt relieved.
Carrie had been so down on her since the drugs. It
was nice not to have her criticisms for a change. She
was just about to call Gemma and tell her when her
mobile rang again.

'Hi, remember me?' Jackson's sexy American
voice drawled down her mobile.

I'm hardly likely to forget
, Angel thought, but
deciding to have some fun with him, she feigned
ignorance.

'Sorry, do I know you?' she demanded.

'Ha ha, very funny,' Jackson replied. 'Listen, I'm
over in London now and wondered if you wanted
to meet for dinner tonight.'

'Actually, I have plans, but I could meet you
tomorrow night,' she replied, thinking
Cheeky
bastard, how dare he assume that I would just drop
everything for him?

They arranged to meet at a very exclusive
restaurant and when Angel ended the call, she
couldn't help feeling slightly excited by the prospect.
He was such a big star and he was gorgeous.

'I hardly recognise you without your angel kit on,'
was the first thing Jackson said as they met the next
night. Even though they were meeting at The Ivy,
a restaurant so exclusive it was the kind of place no
one was supposed to stare at celebrities, Angel
noticed that the other diners, women mostly, kept
taking surreptitious looks in their direction, clearly
willing Jackson to notice them. She didn't blame
them – Jackson was very, very handsome.
As
handsome as Cal
, she thought with a pang.

'I've ordered champagne, I hope that's okay –
it's what you were guzzling at Larry's.'

'Excuse me!' Angel replied in mock indignation.
'I was not guzzling!'

'I remember thinking,' Jackson continued his
teasing, 'that woman can certainly put it away!' And
then he took her hand in his and kissed it. 'But I do
like that in a woman,' he murmured suggestively.
Angel almost squirmed in her seat, half with
embarrassment and half enjoying his attention.

They ordered traditional English fish and chips
(Jackson said that he loved it), but Angel couldn't
eat very much, she felt too self-conscious in front of
Jackson. He continued to flirt with her and once
the champagne had taken hold, she flirted back. He
was making his attraction to her very obvious.

'I'm getting kind of tired of everyone staring at
us in here,' Jackson said after they'd eaten, or
rather, he'd eaten and Angel had rearranged the
food on her plate. 'Why don't we go back to my
hotel suite and have a drink in private?'

Oh God
, she thought, thrilled and scared in equal
measure. Part of her wanted to go straight home to
her flat, but the other thought,
Cal's not interested any
more, you may as well see where this leads.

'I could come for one drink,' she replied. 'I've
got a shoot tomorrow.'

'Okay, Miss Control Freak, just one drink,' he
answered, and then leant closer to her. 'Though
don't think I'll be letting you go that easily.'

Outside the restaurant the paparazzi had
obviously been tipped off that Jackson was there, as
flash bulbs immediately exploded in their faces.
The couple got into the waiting limo, but Jackson
seemed totally unconcerned. He simply shrugged
and said, 'Occupational hazard. I'm surprised
you're not used to it by now.'

Jackson had the luxury penthouse suite at The
Dorchester. There was champagne waiting for
them, candles had been lit around the room and
music was playing.
He was obviously expecting me to
come back with him
, she thought wryly. He expertly
opened the champagne and poured them each a
glass.

'Here's to you, Angel – quite the most beautiful
woman I've seen in a long time.'

Angel couldn't help laughing – he was such a
smooth operator.

'I'm serious,' Jackson insisted. 'I was dreading
doing this premiere in London, the press here
always give me such a hard time, and now meeting
you has given me something to look forward to.
Why won't you take me seriously, Angel? I really
like you.' He gazed at her with his dark green eyes
and Angel almost felt convinced, but then she
remembered he was an Oscar-nominated actor and
a serial shagger.

She shook her head. 'You hardly know me.'

'I like what I see,' he replied, taking her
champagne glass from her and leading her to the
bed, where he pulled her down next to him.

His kiss was just as good as she remembered
from the party. Angel felt desire building up within
her and she touched his body back.
See
, said a voice
inside her.
Why not? What's wrong with this?
But
suddenly it was all going too fast and he had
unzipped her dress so roughly that she heard the
silk tear, had pulled it off her, had unfastened her
bra and was sucking her nipples so hard that it
hurt.

She wriggled in pain, and he took that to mean
she was enjoying herself and moved down her
body. He pulled down her lace briefs and began
caressing her with his tongue, except it didn't feel
like a caress, more like slobbering, and he had no
sense of which spot to hit.

Bad oral sex is just the worst thing
, Angel thought, all
desire for him gone. Again she tried to move away
from him, but again he took that to mean that she
was writhing in pleasure.

'Oh yeah, baby,' he murmured, lifting his head
up and unbuttoning his jeans. 'You ready now?'

'No,' she said, crossing her legs and trying to sit
up. 'I can't do this.'

But he didn't seem to register and now he was
lying on top of her, kissing her, biting her lip,
touching her body with greater urgency and
forcing her legs apart.

'Jackson! Stop!' she said again, trying to push
him off her. He was starting to scare her; it felt as if
he wasn't going to stop even though she was saying
no.

'Get off me!' she was shouting now, and, struggling
frantically, tried to twist her body away from
his.

'Come on, Angel.' He stopped what he was doing
and looked at her. 'You know you want to, you
wouldn't have come back with me if you didn't.'

Angel took her chance and, using all her strength,
pushed him off her and leapt off the bed, grabbing
her clothes and her bag and heading for the door.

'Oh, run off home, then, little girl,' Jackson
snarled from the bed, frustration and rejection
making him nasty. 'You're not that special, you
know. I could go out right now and pull ten girls
who look like you – better than you.'

'Yeah, well, your last film sucked,' Angel replied,
anger replacing fear. Not wanting to stay in the
same room as him for another minute, she opened
the door and stepped out into the corridor even
though she was dressed in nothing but her briefs.
She quickly put on her dress and ran to the lifts,
desperate to get out of the hotel.

'Oh my God!' Jez exclaimed, his eyes wide in
amazement two days later when she filled him in on
what had happened. Jez could always be relied on
for his larger-than-life reactions. 'What a class A
creep!'

'It was really scary; I thought he was going to
rape me. And it was horrible when he said I'd asked
for it by going back to his hotel room,' Angel
replied, still a bit shaken.

'Well, I'm never going to see one of his films ever
again!' declared Jez. 'And I'll rip up that poster of
him I've got in the loo as soon as I get home. The
bastard.'

They were meeting Gemma for coffee in Soho
and when she arrived she looked very excited and
immediately thrust a tabloid in front of Angel.

'Look! It says here that you're seeing Jackson
Black and that he's very taken with you! What's
been going on between you?'

Both Angel and Jez groaned, and Angel said,
'Jez, please tell her, I can't bear to go through it
again.'

As Jez filled Gemma in on the details, Angel
couldn't help shuddering; she really did feel that
she'd had a lucky escape. She imagined all the
other women who had found themselves in the
same situation with Jackson and had wanted him to
stop, but couldn't make him.
Bastard
.

'Let's not talk about it any more, please! And,
anyway, I want you two to come and look at some
outfits with me. I still don't know what to wear for
the awards tomorrow night,' Angel told her friends.

So, after coffee, the trio hit the boutiques. Angel
always liked to choose something that would make
her stand out – she never wanted to look like
anyone else. Two hours and many outfits later,
Angel finally found something she liked: a showstopping,
floor-length silver halter-neck dress with
a tight bodice showing off her tiny waist and a
plunging neckline. She hoped to make a night of it
with Jez and Gemma, but both of them had other
plans and, for the first time in a while, Angel had to
go home on her own. As soon as she shut the door
on her apartment, she felt consumed with longing
for Cal. All the frenzied socialising and working
she'd been throwing herself into had done nothing
but temporarily numb the pain. The encounter
with Jackson hadn't helped. She wanted to feel
Cal's arms round her – nothing had ever felt so
good as being held by him. She put on the Al
Green CD that she and Cal had listened to during
those two weeks when they were lovers, and curled
up on the sofa. She allowed herself to remember
what it had felt like being with Cal – how good
they were together, how he made her feel and how
she had never felt so close to anyone before.
Suddenly, she longed to speak to him, to hear his
voice one last time, and almost without thinking
about what she was doing, as if something else was
guiding her, she picked up her mobile and called
up his number. It went straight to his voicemail.
For a second she paused, then said: 'Hi, Cal, it's
Angel. I just wanted to say good luck with the
baby and everything. Take care of yourself.' Somehow
she stopped herself from telling him she loved
him.

'And now give it up for Angel, who's presenting the
award for best British band!' Derren Sylvester, the
DJ and presenter of the music awards, shouted into
his mic. Angel walked on stage to thunderous
applause. Even though she was only going to be
reading out a few names, she couldn't help feeling
nervous and she was sure she was going to get some
stick from Derren, who loved taking the piss out of
celebs. She certainly hadn't warmed to him when
they'd met on his TV show and, sure enough, he
waited until he'd kissed her to deliver his killer
punchline.

'Three bands have been nominated, all with
lovely young men in them, Angel, but their
girlfriends have asked me to tell you that they're all
taken – so hands off!'