Lindsey Kelk 5-Book 'I Heart...' Collection (47 page)

‘So they’re friends?’

‘Sort of,’ I wrinkled my nose. There was no way Jenny would be exploring their ‘friendship’ now. I was going to suffer for this one.

‘I see, friends with benefits?’

Before I could clarify, there was a knock at the door. James opened up and swapped my dress for a tray of drinks. ‘Thanks,’ he said to someone I couldn’t see. ‘Tea?’

‘Yes please,’ I sighed, realizing suddenly how tired I was. ‘I’d kill for a cup right now.’

‘I don’t want to know how you’re going to react to my HobNobs then,’ he said, producing a full packet of biscuits. ‘This really is the best hotel in the world.’

‘Don’t say that in front of Jenny,’ I said, taking a handful of crumbly biscuity goodness. ‘She’s all about The Union. Or at least she was; she hasn’t stolen anything in ages.’

‘So we’ve got twenty minutes to fill,’ James said, nursing his steaming mug. ‘What do you want to do?’

What did I want to do? Now there was a question. My head wanted to call Jenny, make sure she was OK and actually going to speak to me again. My heart wanted to call Alex and see how his gig went, hear his soft sleepy voice and have him put the phone on his pillow until he fell asleep so I could just listen to him breathe. But another, slightly less poetic part of me was absolutely burning to stand up, take that cup of tea out of James Jacobs’s hand and put all of his flirting to the test. To trace a finger up his abs, his sharply cut chest and over his full bottom lip. Just press it, just to see if it was as firm and plush as it looked. And then possibly nibble on it a little bit. And then—

‘You’ve got such a strange look on your face,’ James interrupted. ‘What are you thinking about?’

Pushing you backwards against the sofa and doing lots of very dirty things until my passport expires.

‘Nothing really.’

‘There’s something I wanted to say, actually,’ he carried on. ‘About this afternoon, at the burger place.’

Maybe just a quick nibble. ‘No need, really.’

‘Yes, there is. I’m sorry, I just get caught up easily. Really, it’s pathetic. I spend so much time spouting crap that’s written for me, I start coming out with it when they haven’t even given me a script.’ He rested on the arm of my chair. And smelt delicious. ‘I suppose that’s why Blake gets so angry. I get myself into so much trouble with all those photos.’

‘Photos?’

‘Of me. Well, if they were just of me it wouldn’t be a problem.’

‘Oh.’

‘They’re just photos, Angela,’ he said, looking down at me.

‘You don’t have to explain anything to me.’ I stared straight ahead. Trying not to be jealous.

‘Well, I do, you are the reporter,’ he said. ‘But I’m just saying. Although I can’t help but wonder what that interview is going to come out like.’

‘The interview.’ I covered my face. ‘I’m really not doing well, am I? I’m so going to get fired and then I’ll be deported. And homeless. And someone’s going to have to tell my mother …’

‘What are you talking about?’ James pulled away my hands with his own, warmed through by his hot tea. ‘Why are you going to get fired?’

‘Because Blake cancelled the interview.’ I looked at him as though he was slightly stupid. Very pretty but slightly stupid.

James looked back at me the exact same way. ‘Blake can’t cancel the interview.’

‘He can’t?’ I asked, puzzled. ‘I thought he did everything?’

‘Well he didn’t set it up,’ James explained.

‘He didn’t?’

‘No, Angela. I did.’

‘OK, I know I’m not very clever at the best of times, but I don’t understand …’

‘The interview, you, it was my idea,’ James said, looking really rather pleased with himself. ‘I’m not stupid, I know what people must think when they see all those photos of me and, well, every woman I’ve ever met. So I read some women’s magazines, checked out some of the writers and that’s how I came across you.’

‘You asked for me?’ I was confused. Not unusual, admittedly. ‘It was actually you?’

‘I asked for you. I loved your writing,’ he nodded. ‘But once I’d chosen you, I had to put everything through Blake, after I’d picked a magazine, otherwise it would have been weird. Actors don’t usually set up their own press. To be honest, Blake wasn’t completely convinced you were the right pick, so I would really, really appreciate it if you could at least attempt to prove him wrong.’

‘So the interview isn’t off?’

‘Well, you threw up on me yesterday, got me and my assistant into a fight today, I can’t wait to see what you come up with tomorrow.’ He shook his head and looked out of the window. ‘I’ll call for your car, you should be safe now.’

I sat back in the chair and watched the muscles in his back leave the room. James Jacobs had chosen me. The interview wasn’t off. Maybe I wouldn’t have to leave the country after all. Which meant Alex and I probably wouldn’t be breaking up because I had to go back to England. Which was a really, really good thing.

Unless Alex was still so busy getting it on with his groupies he didn’t even have three minutes to spare to leave me a voicemail. The battery indicator on my silent phone flickered in the bottom of my clutch. Obviously it wasn’t as though he was desperate to get in touch and tell me he loved me or anything. How come he couldn’t even tell me how he couldn’t bear to live a single second of his life without me when a global superstar – no, megastar – had handpicked me out of every single journalist in the entire world to interview him? I’d now been in his hotel twice. And twice I’d been out of my frock. That had to be a sign. Another knock on the door interrupted my entirely unhelpful thoughts.

‘That’ll be your dress,’ James called from the other room. ‘Your car’s going to be about five minutes.’

I wrapped myself up in the dressing gown, trying not to trip over the hem and opened the door. There was my dress, all pristine, wrapped in shiny plastic. Twenty-minute dry cleaning had revolutionized my life. ‘Thank you,’ I said, taking the hanger.

‘No … thank you,’ said a voice behind a huge camera.

‘What the …?’ I stumbled backwards, holding my dress out in front of the rapid fire-flashes.

‘Angela!’ James yelled, sprinting across the living room. ‘Close the door, get away from the door!’

I slammed the door into the camera, heard a dull thud, a quiet ‘shit’ and then the sound of quickly retreating footsteps. Dazed, I looked at James, but he was already on the phone, yelling incoherently. For the want of something to do, I staggered into the bathroom and got changed. I checked myself in the mirror: nope, my skirt wasn’t tucked in my pants, not even a bra strap was on show. Impeccable. For me. And if you went for the ‘startled deer in headlights’ thing, I actually looked pretty good.

‘OK,’ I said, teetering back into the lounge and grabbing my handbag. ‘I think it’s best if I just go, I’ve caused enough chaos tonight.’

‘You can’t go out there now.’ James looked at me as if I was stupid. He and Jenny would actually get on really well. ‘I’ve just called security but they haven’t caught him yet. You can’t go anywhere until they’ve got that camera.’

I wanted to laugh but had a feeling that it wouldn’t go down well. ‘Seriously? James, all they’ve got is a picture of me holding some dry cleaning.’

‘Yes, maybe,’ James mused. ‘Or, they’ve got a picture of you, without your dress on, standing in the doorway of my bungalow at one a.m. What’s that going to be worth to your boyfriend? Or your editor? Or your mum?’

‘My mum would probably be quite impressed actually,’ I said, feeling a little bit sick. ‘But I see your point. I really can’t stay here, though. I have to see Jenny; I have to go back. Is there no way out without those arses getting a photo?’

All six-foot-something of James Jacobs stood squarely between me and the door, staring me down with an intensity I usually saved for the person in the queue between me and the last espresso brownie in Starbucks. And I wasn’t sure if I was the person or the brownie. ‘Do you really want to leave?’

No no no no no no no no no no.

‘Yes.’ Wow, who knew I was so strong?

‘Then I’ll call a car to come to the back of the bungalow,’ he said, breathing out and letting his shoulders drop. ‘They should have something that won’t attract attention. I left the phone in the bedroom.’

I realized I hadn’t breathed out since I’d said I wanted to leave and the zip on my bag was cutting into my hand, I was clutching it so tightly. This was horrible. How could I even be thinking these things about James when Alex was at home in New York, just waiting for me to call. Probably. He just wasn’t desperate to call me. Or tell me he loved me. Or even come to LA with me. Whereas James seemed relatively keen for me not to leave for one reason or another. Surely ninety-nine out of a hundred girls in this situation would stay, boyfriend be damned. Maybe if I talked to the boyfriend quickly, it would be easier.

I released my vice-like grip on my bag and pulled out my mobile. Yes, it was four a.m. in New York, but he wouldn’t mind a quick call. And tough luck if he did.

‘Hello?’

‘Alex, it’s me,’ I gushed. ‘I’m sorry; I suppose I didn’t expect you to answer. I’m just having the most chaotic night and—’

‘Angela?’

‘Yes?’

‘It’s four in the morning.’

‘I know.’

‘What do you want?’

I bit my lip. ‘I just wanted to speak to you. Tell you I missed you.’

‘Are you drunk?’

‘No,’ I frowned. ‘I’m just having a bit of a nightmare evening. We were out and James got into a fight and then there were loads of paparazzi—’

‘Seriously, Angela, I’m sleeping. Call me tomorrow, OK?’ Alex sighed.

I tried not to be stung. He was perfectly within his rights to be a bit peeved but I had been hoping he might have thought my spontaneous call was cute. He certainly seemed to think it was acceptable to turn up on my doorstep at all hours of the night. Surely just calling to tell someone you missed them at four a.m. was romantic? ‘OK,’ I muttered into the phone, ‘go back to sleep. I just wanted to say – I just thought I’d call and … well, I love you.’

‘What?’ he suddenly sounded considerably more awake.

‘I’ll call you tomorrow, go back to sleep. Bye.’ I hung up, threw my phone back into my bag as if it was on fire and clapped a hand over my mouth. How had that snuck out?

‘Did you say something?’ James asked, appearing back at my side.

Before I could answer, the hotel phone rang once and then stopped. ‘That’s your car,’ James said, taking my arm and leading me towards the back door of the bungalow. ‘So, we’re not meeting tomorrow, right? Unless you want to come and watch me in make-up testing?’

I shrugged. I had been known to enjoy a touch of guyliner. Had I really just told Alex I loved him?

‘So I’ll collect you Wednesday morning. Eleven OK?’

‘Fine,’ I said, stumbling the short distance between the back door and the open crack of the waiting car’s back door.

‘And don’t worry about anything,’ James said, closing the door behind me. ‘Tonight was just a standard Monday, as depressing as that is. Get some sleep.’ He leaned in the window, gave me a soft, warm kiss on the cheek and then slapped the top of the car.

If all my Mondays were this eventful, I thought drowsily as we pulled out of the hotel and onto Sunset Boulevard, I’d need to get more than ‘some’ sleep to make it through my week.

Without the paparazzi chasing me, the ride back to The Hollywood seemed to take for ever. Eventually, we rolled up to the door and I rolled through the lobby and up to my room, dog-tired and desperate for sleep.

‘Where the fuck have you been?’

Sleep, I was apparently not going to get. Jenny was standing in the middle of my room, looking absolutely wild.

‘Jenny.’

‘Don’t you fucking “Jenny” me,’ she ranted, stamping her tiny foot. ‘You left me in that club! Left me on the floor to run off with that asshole. I cannot believe you.’

‘I didn’t run off, I was carried off,’ I started, afraid to get too close. Jenny was holding her shoes in one hand, which made her both quicker than me and in possession of a deadly weapon. I’d done enough damage with a pair of stilettos in my own time to know how dangerous they could be. ‘Jenny, I feel horrible, I’m so sorry. But James said you’d be OK and honestly, you didn’t want to be with us—’

‘Oh “James said”?’ she yelled, throwing one of the shoes at me. I dodged; at least she was one weapon down. ‘Well, if James said, then I’m sure it was fine that you left me on the floor of a club, soaked through with some dick’s drink. I don’t believe this. You spend one day with some sonofabitch movie star and you’re acting like a total bitch?’

‘OK, that’s not too harsh? I didn’t have any choice in the matter of leaving you. Unless you didn’t notice, I didn’t exactly swan out of there on my own feet. And I think you’re mistaking James for that dickhead, Joe. He was the one throwing drinks around.’

‘Only because that Blake asshole was getting in his face.’ Jenny brandished the other shoe. It was not fun being on the other end of this. ‘They were both being totally rude to Joe the whole evening. They were totally looking down on him because he’s a barman, even though it’s so obvious they’re just jealous. Joe could so be bigger than James Jacobs if he wanted.’

‘How are you coming up with this stuff?’ I asked, throwing my bag down on the bed and kicking off my own shoes … but keeping them close in case we ended up duelling with them later. ‘Joe had a problem with James and Blake, especially Blake, from the second he got in the car. Before then, even. He was being weird about them this afternoon; I only invited him for your sake.’

‘You think I need you to get me pity dates? Like, Joe only came because you asked him? Oh my God, who do you think you are?’

‘Jenny,’ I shook my head. ‘I can’t do this. I’m tired and you’re being ridiculous. Why don’t we just go to bed and talk about this tomorrow?’

‘Now I’m ridiculous?’ The other shoe flew past my head and hit the door. ‘What’s ridiculous is you. We’ve been in LA two days; you’ve blown me off twice and then you left me on the floor of a club in front of dozens of people. That is ridiculous. You are ridiculous.’

‘Jenny, I’m sorry,’ I really, really wanted to sleep. ‘I’m sorry I blew you out but I was tired and a bit drunk. And I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you but we got chased by the paparazzi and I was stuck in the hotel. And I’m sorry you think I’m blowing you off for James – I’m absolutely not, but it’s my job to interview him. That’s why we’re here, remember? So I do have to spend time with him. I wish I could just hang out with you instead. I really do.’