Someone Like You: Escape with this perfect uplifting romance

by Tracy Corbett

  He wasn’t about to tell his sister that he’d only contacted the agency last week when Lily’s reference from Taye Malik had raised a few concerns. He was well aware something didn’t add up, but no way was he about to give Gemma the satisfaction of saying, ‘I told you so’. He gave her a half-hearted shrug. ‘No idea. I guess they’re busy.’

  ‘We’re all busy. And the festival’s in two weeks,’ she said, displaying her dissatisfaction at his lack of professionalism. ‘At this rate, the job will be finished before the reference arrives. I’ll chase them up.’

  ‘I’m dealing with it, Gemma.’

  ‘Evidently not.’

  ‘Where’s Megan Lawrence!?’ shouted the director through his loudhailer, making everyone jump. ‘I need my leading lady!’

  ‘I’m on it!’ Will shouted across the congregation. ‘She’s in hair and make-up. I’ll fetch her.’ Anything to avoid dealing with his sister.

  ‘I’m not done talking about this, Will!’ Gemma yelled, as he ran off.

  ‘What a surprise!’ His returning yell startled a nearby extra. ‘Sorry, mate.’

  ‘And hire a bloody childminder!’

  He bit back an expletive. What was it with his family? Why couldn’t they stay off his back for one moment? As if he wasn’t trying his best to be everything Poppy needed.

  But maybe that was the problem. He didn’t want to share her with anyone else. He wanted to be her everything. And maybe that was the real issue here. But accepting he had insecurity issues when it came to his daughter wasn’t something he was ready to deal with. Just as he wasn’t ready to deal with the issue of a lack of a reference for Lily. So he headed for the small mobile unit set up to support the location filming and focused on the task in hand.

  ‘Megan? You ready?’ he called, knocking on the trailer door.

  No reply.

  He knocked again. ‘Megan? We’re about to start filming.’

  ‘She’s not in there,’ a voice said from behind.

  Lily.

  He turned, but she’d already hurried away. ‘Hey, where are you going?’

  ‘To check on Isaac’s costume.’

  ‘Isaac’s costume is fine,’ he said, jogging after her and catching her arm. ‘Wait up.’

  ‘I’m busy. I’m needed on set.’

  ‘You can spare a minute.’ He figured interrogating her as to why she’d been avoiding him wouldn’t get him anywhere, so he opted for keeping it work-related. ‘Do you know where Megan is?’

  ‘Sorry, no.’ She slipped from his grasp and walked off, still without looking at him.

  This was ridiculous.

  He ran after her, moving in front of her so she couldn’t escape. ‘Lily, will you please stop avoiding me. We need to talk.’

  She tried to side-step him. ‘No we don’t… And certainly not now.’

  ‘When then?’

  ‘Err… how about never?’

  ‘That’s a bit immature, don’t you think?’

  ‘Probably.’ She dodged past him and walked off.

  He went after her. ‘Wait up, will you!’

  But she wasn’t slowing down.

  ‘At least help me look for Megan.’

  At that, she stopped.

  He waited, wondering what she’d do next. He wanted to touch her. To reposition a stray lock of her hair that was dislodged by the breeze, but knew it wouldn’t be welcomed. Instead, he waited.

  With a resigned sigh, she turned to face him. ‘Have you tried the Portaloos?’

  ‘No, just the trailer.’

  ‘Then I’ll look there.’ She headed in that direction.

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Hardly appropriate.’

  ‘I’ll wait outside, obviously.’

  He fell into step beside her, unable to resist glancing at her as they walked. She was wearing a blue top that had slid off one shoulder, revealing the strap of her vest top beneath. It took all his willpower not to trail his fingers over her exposed skin.

  Christ, he had it bad.

  ‘So, how have you been?’

  She kept walking. ‘Fine.’

  ‘You don’t seem fine.’

  ‘How do I seem?’

  Honesty was the best policy, right? ‘Prickly. Embarrassed… Remorseful.’

  She shot him a quick glance. ‘And you’re not?’

  ‘Not remorseful, no. Embarrassed, yes. But only because Megan interrupted us. Not because I regret what happened… Do you?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think you wanted it as much as I did.’

  A beat passed before she spoke. ‘It was a momentary blip.’

  ‘A blip?’

  ‘Yes. A blip.’

  ‘You didn’t enjoy it?’

  No response.

  Just as he thought.

  ‘It didn’t remind you of how great things were on holiday? Or make you think this could be something so much more?’

  She made a scoffing sound. ‘You got all that from one kiss?’

  ‘Yeah, I did.’ He turned her to face him. ‘And it would’ve been a lot more than a kiss if Megan hadn’t walked in.’

  And wasn’t that the truth.

  Her face instantly coloured. She’d caught the sun, he noticed, the bridge of her nose was pink.

  They held eye contact for a moment. Energy once again beginning to sizzle between them, before she stepped back and broke the spell. ‘Well, she did. And maybe that’s a good thing.’

  ‘How so?’

  Her hand lifted, stopping him moving closer. ‘It prevented us from making a huge mistake.’

  Despite her words, her hand stayed pressed against his chest. ‘I don’t see it as a mistake,’ he said softly, fascinated by the way the sunlight picked up the colours in her hair.

  ‘You wouldn’t.’

  He lifted her chin. ‘Meaning?’

  ‘It’s not your reputation that would be ruined.’

  ‘Jesus, this isn’t the eighteenth century, Lily.’

  ‘I meant professional reputation.’ She stepped away, shaking her hand as if it was contaminated from having touched him. ‘Your career wouldn’t be damaged by an… an elicit liaison. Mine would.’ She gestured around her. ‘Who knows how many people Megan has told. And I have no wish to be the subject of gossip. I don’t want this following me around, ruining my chances of making a decent career.’

  He was confused. ‘But you already have a decent career. You’re established in the industry. This won’t affect you any more than it would me.’

  A look of something undecipherable flashed across her face. Her eyes fluttered closed, and then opened again. ‘Right. Of course.’

  He rested his hands on her shoulders. ‘Lily, please don’t beat yourself up over this. It was my fault, not yours. You’re right, I behaved unprofessionally, and I’m sorry. But if I’m honest, I don’t regret it. It confirmed what I already knew – that there’s unfinished business between us. And I for one, would like to explore that further.’

  He looked into her enticing green eyes, mesmerised by the way she seemed to glow. There was no other word for it. He was being mushy, he knew that. Sentimental and needy. But it was hard to ignore the effect she had on him. Her cheeks were flushed, her glossy lips parted, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted a woman more.

  But before he could continue, she said, ‘I’d better see if Megan’s in here,’ and backed away, disappearing inside the Portaloos.

  Will kicked at a clump of grass in frustration.

  Why was everything in his life so complicated?

  Maybe he should go back to enjoying meaningless hook-ups and give up on the idea of a proper relationship. It was certainly easier that way. But was that what he really wanted?

  Besides which, he was continuing to ignore the elephant in the room.

  Poppy.

  He still hadn’t mentioned her.

  He’d justified not telling Lily about his past on holiday, but continuing to keep his
daughter a secret was wrong. He knew that. Especially when on Tuesday Lily had directly asked him if he’d told her everything about his life. Well, no, he hadn’t.

  But it seemed too big a bombshell to suddenly drop on her now. It certainly wouldn’t help convince her to trust him and give them a go as a couple. Yet he couldn’t keep denying his life, either. He was a single dad. No getting away from that.

  He walked around the temporary Portaloos and into a nearby clearing, needing a moment to himself.

  When was the right time to admit he’d been lying? Was there ever a good time? And would it create more of an obstacle between them?

  Probably.

  Definitely.

  He leant against a tree and closed his eyes. It was cooler under the canopy of trees, a welcome respite to the harsh sun. He could hear distant voices coming from the film set and the director yelling through the loudhailer.

  Nearby, he could hear the rustle of trees moving in the breeze and the faint sound of crickets in the tall grass.

  And then he heard a faint giggle.

  He opened his eyes, but there was no one about.

  He moved further into the clearing, stepping over a fallen branch.

  A flash of cream silk wedding dress disappeared behind a large oak tree.

  What the…?

  Trying not to make a sound, he moved around the tree, stunned by what he saw there.

  Megan Lawrence was kissing his nephew, Zac.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tuesday, 20 July

  Lily didn’t enjoy crowded pubs at the best of times. She wasn’t a big drinker, she felt claustrophobic, and she couldn’t hear properly above the loud music. An evening spent crammed into The Carpenters Arms along with half of Windsor wasn’t her favoured pastime.

  She’d rather be back at The Crooked House Tea Rooms, curled up on the bed watching Netflix. Not that anyone else felt that way. The rest of the project team seemed to be having a blast. She was the only one who appeared to be faking having a good time.

  When the message had been circulated yesterday inviting everyone to ‘let off some steam’ after the conclusion of filming today, her initial reaction had been to decline. She wasn’t as tired as she had been at the beginning of the project – her body had thankfully adjusted to the hectic schedule of early starts and late finishes – but she’d yet to fully embrace the culture of partying between shifts and rolling up for filming bleary-eyed and smelling of booze. This opportunity might have landed in her lap through a misunderstanding, but it was too precious to blow through misbehaving.

  Not that anyone was really misbehaving.

  Just ‘high jinks’ as her grandma used to say.

  She watched Frankie dancing with one of the sound engineers. They appeared to be in a trance, lost in the beat of the music and waving their hands in the air – well-practised in the art of raving.

  God, she sounded old.

  Then again, she’d never been into this kind of thing even as a youngster. Even if her situation had been different and she hadn’t been a full-time carer, she doubted this type of evening would have really appealed.

  The closest she’d come to a night out clubbing was during her holiday in the Caribbean. Even then it hadn’t felt like proper clubbing. The nightclubs on holiday had been more relaxed than in the UK, with a mixture of ages and more of a wedding reception vibe, than hardcore partying. But there was no way this DJ was going to be playing ‘Dancing Queen’ anytime soon, of that she was certain.

  She looked around the room, and smiled when she caught sight of Zac approaching.

  He eased himself through the crowd, his tall frame visible above the throng of people. ‘Hey there, Lily. Having fun?’

  ‘A blast,’ she lied, making a point of lifting her drink. ‘You?’

  ‘Music and booze.’ He grinned. ‘What’s not to like?’

  He had a point. ‘Did you deliver Poppy’s costume okay?’

  ‘I dropped it off last night.’ He had to raise his voice to be heard above the noise.

  ‘Was she pleased with it?’

  ‘She loved it. She couldn’t wait to show it off to her teacher.’

  ‘I’m glad. She’s a sweetheart.’

  ‘She is.’ He sipped his bottled beer.

  ‘I hope helping her was okay?’

  He leant closer so he could hear. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Was her dad okay about me making her a costume?’

  It had only occurred to her at the weekend when Poppy had shown up for her final fitting, that being so familiar with a child without the parent’s consent wasn’t perhaps entirely appropriate. Zac being okay with it as her temporary guardian was one thing, but maybe she should have obtained permission from the girl’s father before agreeing to make the costume. Not being a parent herself, she had no idea what the etiquette was in these situations.

  Zac looked sheepish. ‘I have a confession. He has no idea. Poppy wanted to keep it a secret and I went along with it.’ He gave a half-hearted shrug. ‘You know, so I didn’t have to explain how come Poppy was making costumes with you when she was supposed to be being looked after by me.’

  Oh, dear. That just made her feel worse. She wasn’t comfortable being used as an alibi for Zac’s romantic liaisons. And she definitely wasn’t happy that Poppy’s dad was in the dark about his daughter being unloaded onto a stranger without his knowledge. ‘Won’t he question where she got the costume from?’

  ‘I told him it was hired.’

  ‘Right.’ Another lie. Her life seemed to be peppered with them at the moment. Still, it wasn’t her place to interfere. ‘Are you going to watch the play tomorrow night?’

  He took another sip of beer. ‘I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t.’

  A whistle cut through the noise, drawing Lily’s attention across the room. Megan waved her hands above the crowd, beckoning them onto the makeshift dance floor.

  She nudged Zac playfully. ‘I think you’re wanted.’

  Zac smiled. ‘Joining us?’

  She shook her head. ‘You go. I’m happy here.’

  ‘If you’re sure.’ He ambled off.

  ‘Oh… and wish Poppy good luck for me for tomorrow night!’ she called after him. ‘I hope the play goes well!’

  He gave her a thumbs-up, his besotted gaze already fixated on Megan. She met him halfway across the dancefloor and they began moving together. Nothing too intimate or raunchy. They were being discreet, acting like friendly acquaintances rather than secret lovers, but Lily could tell they were smitten. And why not? Megan was single and so was Zac. They got on well and the attraction seemed mutual. Sure, there was a ten-year age gap, but that was hardly the scandal of the century. They were just having a bit of fun.

  Hadn’t she done the same thing on holiday?

  Exactly.

  Then she remembered how things had turned out, and how her harmless fling had become a lot more complicated. But that was only because Will had been daft enough to track her down and try to rekindle their affair. If he’d left things as they were, it would have been perfect.

  That’s what she kept telling herself, anyway.

  The truth was, if she hadn’t lied on holiday, she’d love nothing more than to rekindle her romance with Will Taylor. Who wouldn’t? He was funny and gorgeous and hot. He was also cranky and combative and demanding. But she was hardly without fault, so she couldn’t complain. Everyone had their flaws. And she had lied. A huge lie that had snowballed and landed her a job that she didn’t deserve and wasn’t qualified to do. So however much her heart wanted Will Taylor, her head was having to put the brakes on.

  The sound of laughter drew her attention to the bar. The lighting lads were congregated there, chatting and drinking, eyeing up a group of girls. The more senior crew were filling the seats around the edge of the bar, not quite up to the task of both standing and drinking.

  Sipping her gin and tonic, Lily decided she’d had enough and dumped it on the table, waving a
way an offer to join various people on the dance floor. She couldn’t dance to this music. It was too loud.

  Yep, definitely old before her time.

  She headed for somewhere quieter.

  The Carpenters Arms was usually a serious drinking haunt, but tonight the open courtyard out back had been turned into an amusement area, with gaming tables, a pool table and various slot machines. There was also a cocktail bar, serving garish-looking concoctions that reminded her of being on holiday.

  Despite the activities on offer, it was quieter outside. Everyone else was inside the main bar area dancing. She was glad – it gave her the respite she needed.

  She approached the empty bar and ordered a virgin Pina Colada. Not the most sophisticated of drinks, but the gin had made her thirsty.

  And then she became aware of a man standing next to her. She knew it was Will, even before she turned.

  Oh well, she supposed she’d done well to avoid him thus far.

  ‘Let me guess,’ he said, sidling up next to her. ‘Pina Colada?’

  She tried to ignore the frisson of heat his presence evoked. ‘Minus the alcohol.’

  ‘I remember how much you liked your cocktails.’

  ‘I’m sure you also remember the state they left me in.’

  He grinned. ‘Vividly.’

  That was what worried her.

  She assessed his outfit of black fitted shirt and jeans. ‘Where’s your box of Milk Tray?’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘That advert hasn’t been on the telly for about thirty years.’

  ‘You still knew what I meant.’ She shrugged. ‘And you don’t need to tell me I’m old-fashioned, I’m painfully aware of the fact.’

  He leant on the bar. ‘I never said you were old-fashioned.’ His eyes travelled over her dress. ‘You definitely don’t look old-fashioned tonight. Nice dress.’

  She glanced down, feeling self-conscious in her knee-length silver-grey skater dress, which she had made quickly last night from an offcut of material ordered for the film. ‘Thanks.’

  The barman appeared with her drink.

  ‘I’ll get this.’ Will overrode her attempts to pay and ordered himself a light beer. ‘So, having fun, Miss Monroe?’

  ‘Not really, Mr Taylor.’