by Jill Mansell
“Oh, my giddy aunt,” squealed Tula, hurtling up the steps into reception. “There’s a limo coming up the drive that’s almost as long as the drive! Is Beyoncé coming to stay and nobody thought to tell me?”
Josh looked at Dot. “Who is it?”
“I told you. A surprise.” Her light blue eyes sparkled with relief at not having to keep the secret anymore. “Go and see for yourself.”
Okay, if there was one thing he was absolutely sure Sophie wouldn’t do, it was turn up in a stretch limousine in order to declare her undying love for him. But just on the off chance, he followed Tula outside anyway.
Because wasn’t that what made surprises surprising?
It wasn’t just any old stretch limo either. Finished in silver chrome with the sun bouncing off its polished surfaces, it was blindingly bright, the kind of effect favored by the more flamboyant look-at-me Premiership footballers.
“This is so exciting,” Tula said softly, to the left of him. “If it was my car, I wouldn’t have blacked-out windows, though. I’d want everyone to see me in it!”
The limo slowed to a halt, its doors flew open, and out leaped three people. Predictably, none of them was Sophie.
To the right of him, Dot smiled and said, “There you go. That’s why I couldn’t tell you—they wanted it to be a complete surprise!”
Josh looked at Jem, Bonnie, and Cal, three of the four members of Go Destry. Only Dizzy was missing. Jem’s hair was even blonder, Bonnie’s was much longer, and Cal’s, shaved at the sides, was spiky and silver-tipped. As always, they were dressed to be noticed in the kind of outfits most people wouldn’t leave the house in.
Josh waited. There had been no contact between them since the day they’d sacked him as their manager. Basically, he’d neither planned on ever seeing them again nor expected it to happen.
The awkward little moment was broken by Jem breaking into the kind of skyscraper-heeled run that could so easily have resulted in a broken ankle. She stopped less than a meter away from him, her huge sapphire-blue eyes swimming with tears, and said in a voice trembling with emotion, “Oh God, Josh, you have no idea. We’ve missed you so much.”
***
It was all very Disney. Josh was perfectly well acquainted with Jem’s ability to cry on cue. But he did the decent thing and greeted them as if they were old friends. Then, because all eyes were upon them and Griff was now barking and leaping up and down like a mad thing on springs, he ushered them inside the hotel and into the empty drawing room.
Ironically, the room that had been the cause of his first-ever encounter with Sophie.
So much for his trip to Bristol this afternoon; he had a feeling that was no longer going to happen.
“Okay, cards on the table,” Jem announced; out of the three of them, she’d always been the one who’d done most of the talking. “We’re sorry. We messed up big time. We thought we were doing the right thing and we were so, so wrong. Our new management guys suck.”
“I could have told you all that.” Josh shrugged. “In fact, I did. But you didn’t listen.”
Bonnie said, “You’re, like, a zillion times nicer than them. They treat us like total idiots.”
Sometimes no reply was necessary. A look sufficed.
Well, it would suffice if the people on the receiving end didn’t think so highly of themselves that the possibility of irony wouldn’t even occur to them.
“They’re the ones who are idiots,” Jem exclaimed. “They’re making all these terrible decisions, forcing us to do stupid things… We’re going to end up a laughingstock!”
“Right.”
Cal joined in. “You should hear the tracks they want us to record for our next album. It’s all so lame, like music for little kids. And the prototypes for our new dolls are just crappy. Mine makes me look like a complete dick.”
“That’s very sad.” Josh eyed them gravely. “But I don’t know why you’re telling me this. You need to speak to your management about it.”
“Except they don’t listen.” Bonnie fixed him with a pleading gaze. “Not like you used to.”
“Okay, so here’s the thing,” said Jem. “We don’t want them looking after us anymore. We want you.”
“We’re so sorry.” Bonnie clasped her hands together as if she were praying. “For everything. All we’re asking is for you to take us back.”
“And we’ll work so hard for you,” Cal said earnestly. “Swear to God, no more messing about and backchat and giving you a hard time. None of that stuff.”
“We didn’t appreciate you before.” Jem looked as if she might be about to burst into tears; her bottom lip was doing its quivery thing. “But that’s because we were stupid and took you for granted. We wouldn’t make that mistake again.”
“Where’s Dizzy?” said Josh, though he had an inkling.
Bonnie shook her head. “He’s just taking things easy, having a bit of a rest…”
“He’s in rehab.” Cal was blunt. “Drying out, getting himself clean. But he’s going to do it. And he wants you back, same as the rest of us.”
“We’ve stopped all that too,” Jem added. “No more messing ourselves up. It’ll be a fresh start. We want to come back bigger and better and stronger than before. And with you managing us, we can do that; we know we can.” Her eyes lit up at the thought of it. “Go Destry rides again!”
“Look, it’s nice of you to make the offer. I’m flattered.” Josh surveyed their hopeful faces. “But I’m not interested. I’ve moved on. I’m living back here now and—”
“Not so fast,” said Cal. “What d’ya think of the limo?”
“It’s very…silver.” Well, it was better than saying it looked like a giant toaster on wheels.
“It’s yours.” Cal nodded his spiky head in triumph. “You can have it. And it’s called chrome-wrapped, not silver. Anyhow, if you come back to us, it’s all yours.”
Josh envisaged the chaos he would cause attempting to maneuver the ultrastretch limo through the narrow, cobbled streets of St. Carys. It would be like attempting to fit a brontosaurus into a rabbit hutch.
Then again, if he went back to managing Go Destry, he wouldn’t be here in St. Carys, would he?
He looked at Cal. “You don’t own the limo. It’s hired.” Apart from anything else, it had been driven down here by a uniformed chauffeur.
“I know that. But on the way down, we found out how much it’d cost us to buy it.”
“I live here now. I’m helping to run this hotel.”
“But we need you,” said Jem. “We really do. Even if it’s just for the next couple years…”
“We flew all this way to ask you,” Bonnie added. “We made the effort so you’d know how serious we are.”
“And we’ve changed.” Jem’s heart-shaped face was both saintly and penitent. “We’re better people now. I guess we were kind of idiots before, but we’ve learned our lesson.”
Josh nodded. “I’m sure you have, but the answer’s still no.”
Cal said, “But—”
“Okay, listen to me.” Jem’s voice rose above the others’ clamor of protests. “Don’t say no yet. You need time to think about it. We’re gonna give you forty-eight hours. How about that? And after you’ve considered all the angles, then you can tell us what you decide.”
“What will you do in the meantime?”
“Just hang out here, I guess. Chill for a couple days.”
“And where will you stay?” said Josh.
“This is your hotel, right? We’ll stay here.”
Josh silently marveled at their assumption that there would be rooms available; it wouldn’t occur to them that they might need to book ahead. Luckily, there’d been a cancellation.
“I’ll need to check with reception. You girls will have to share,” he told them.
“Cool
, I guess we can do that. Just like in the old days.” Bonnie’s smile was bright and brave. “When we were poor.”
“Is there much to do here?” Cal was gazing out of the window, sounding dubious. “Not exactly Caesar’s Palace, is it?”
Jem gave him a sharp nudge. “Shut up. This is Josh’s place.” She turned back and said cheerily, “So we’ll do that, shall we? Ask that old woman on reception to fix us up with a couple of rooms? It’ll be great!”
They were evidently at a bit of a loose end; with their lead singer tucked away in rehab, there wasn’t a great deal else the rest of them could do. Go Destry without Dizzy was like the Rolling Stones without Mick.
“Fine, then,” said Josh. “But the old woman on reception is my grandmother. And if you really want to live until the weekend, it might help to know that her name is Dot.”
Chapter 41
Summer days didn’t get hotter than this. Well, maybe they did, but not here in Cornwall. On the crowded beach, Sophie was listening to an overexcited Tula and doing her best to conceal her own emotions behind her sunglasses.
Basically her own emotions were in turmoil. Hearing about Go Destry’s arrival in St. Carys and the offer they’d made Josh had given her quite a jolt. She now knew how she felt about him; the feelings were too strong to ignore. But acting upon them was something else entirely; breaking her own rules and getting properly involved…well, she still couldn’t allow it to happen.
Which meant that Josh leaving St. Carys would, in theory, be an excellent scenario. With him safely out of harm’s way, she would no longer have to face the temptation of seeing and interacting with him on a regular basis. Which would make life a whole lot easier.
Then again, the idea of not seeing him filled her with panic. Just knowing that he was around made her feel better. He was like a drug she wasn’t sure she could live without. Which in turn obviously meant it would be for the best if he were to move back to California.
Oh God.
“Honestly, they’re hilarious; it’s so weird having them staying here in the hotel.” Tula was far more entertained by the arrival of Go Destry. “You’d think they’d have breakfast in their rooms, but they didn’t; they came down and sat out on the terrace. Everyone was staring and taking photos of them!”
“Fancy that.” Sophie’s mind was still on Josh.
“And they’ve hired a couple bodyguards. You know, to keep the fans under control.”
“So what do you think’s going to happen?” Sophie meant did Josh seem likely to accept their offer and head back to the States.
“Well, I lent them the hotel’s badminton set. Cal said they’re going to be coming down here as soon as the girls have finished their reiki healing.”
“What do they need reiki healing for?”
“Jet lag.”
Jet lag. Of course. There was a smudge of sunscreen on Sophie’s sunglasses. She took them off and began cleaning them with a corner of her beach towel. The next moment, glancing up, she saw someone looking at her.
It only took a moment to place the girl. Her name was Alice, and she was the slightly overweight teenager who had been so eager to pose for those modeling-type photos at Hannah and Owen’s wedding in Launceston the other week.
“Oh, hello!” Sophie waved up at her.
“Hi.” Alice had just paid a visit to the café and was holding three drinks cans.
“Did you see the photos I took of you? I sent them to Hannah and asked her to pass them on.”
“Yeah, thanks, I did. They were nice.” She hesitated, looking a bit awkward, as if wondering whether to say something else. “Can I ask you a question?”
Bless her, such a sweet girl. “Of course you can.”
“Do you really think I could be a professional model?” Alice’s cheeks had turned pink. “I mean, you can be honest.”
Oh. That question. Sophie said carefully, “Well, the trouble with models is they’re supposed to be tall.”
“And pretty,” said Alice. “And thin.”
Okay, may as well cut to the chase. Sophie said gently, “What happened?”
“Well, you were right. It wasn’t a proper model agency. Their phone number stopped working and the website’s not there anymore.” She puffed out her cheeks. “I didn’t know people did things like that, but it turns out they do.”
“Oh dear, poor you. And what a rotten way to find out.”
“I know. My nan and granddad said it didn’t matter about the money. But I just felt so bad for them. And so stupid.” Having decided to confide in her, Alice was evidently now finding it hard to stop. “I can’t believe I really thought I’d been spotted by a talent scout from a real agency. My friends said the same thing,” she went on. “Turns out they’d been laughing their heads off behind my back because they’re really beautiful and like they said, why would someone like me ever get chosen to be a model when I’m not nearly as pretty as them?”
Tula, who’d been listening, snorted and said, “Charming!”
“Well, they don’t sound like very good friends to me,” said Sophie. “I’d think they were the kind you could probably do without.”
Alice was flushing again. “They don’t mean it. It’s just the way they are.”
“Honestly?” Tula’s dark eyes glittered with disdain. “They sound like complete bitches.”
Alice shrugged helplessly. “We’re all in the same class at school, though. There isn’t really anyone else to be friends with.” As she said it, she glanced down toward the water and Sophie realized that these were the friends she’d come here with today. Two girls in multicolored micro bikinis were emerging from the sea, peering around in search of someone.
And yes, they were skinnier and prettier than Alice.
“I’d better get back to them. They’ll be wanting their drinks.” Alice indicated the cans she’d just bought from the café. “Thanks anyway.”
Sophie longed to reassure her. “Listen. If you ask me, you’re a much nicer person than they are.”
Alice looked anxious. “You won’t say anything to them, will you? Promise?”
Sophie shook her head. “Don’t worry, of course we won’t. It was good to see you again.” She smiled up at the teenager in her crumpled pink T-shirt and too-tight denim shorts. “Bye, Alice. Have a nice day.”
***
“Here they come,” announced Tula forty minutes later. Sitting up like a meerkat, she waved excitedly at the little group making their way down the steps to the beach.
Sophie twisted around to watch them: three famous young Americans and their minders, all hyperaware of the attention they were garnering with their arrival.
Would they end up taking Josh away from here? From her? Who knew? They’d already attempted to sweeten the deal with a stretch limo; what was to stop them making an even more extravagant offer he couldn’t refuse?
“Hey, there she is!” Spotting Tula, Cal changed course and headed over toward them. He was lithe, tanned, and swaggery, wearing a white cowboy hat, mirrored shades, and electric-yellow board shorts.
As you do.
“Hi.” Tula was beaming, thrilled to have been singled out for attention. “Did you bring the badminton stuff down with you?”
“Sure did.” He swung an imaginary racket. “I’ve never played this game before. What are the feathery things called again? Shuttledicks?”
“I told you what they were called.” Tula gave him a look.
“You did.” He broke into a grin. “And you said it’s played like tennis, either two players or four players.”
“That’s right.”
“But there’s three of us. Me and the girls. So we’re gonna need someone else to make up the numbers.”
Practically everyone on the beach was watching them now. Including, thirty meters away, Alice and her so-called friends from school.
Sophie heard Tula say, “Well, if you’re desperate…” And then she heard Cal say, “You wanna play? Cool, let’s do it.”
“Hang on.” Sophie reached for Tula’s wrist before she could scramble to her feet. “Cal, can I ask you something?”
He looked dubious. “What?”
Sophie decided to take the plunge; it was a long shot, but wouldn’t it be amazing if it came off? “You could do something that would be so brilliant. Don’t look now, but there’s a girl over to your right, and if you asked her to play badminton, you’d make her year. More than a year. You’d make her whole life.” She gave Tula’s wrist a squeeze. “Wouldn’t he?”
Tula was looking like a toddler having her Christmas presents snatched away.
“Please.” Sophie looked at her.
“Which girl?” said Cal.
“Teenager. Pink T-shirt, denim shorts, sitting on a green beach towel. Be discreet,” said Sophie.
Cal turned and slowly scanned the entire beach, as if admiring the view. Turning back, he murmured, “Okay, I see her. Couldn’t I ask one of her hot friends instead?”
“No, you couldn’t.” How had she guessed he’d say this? Sophie shook her head.
“But the others are way prettier.”
“That’s the whole point; it’s what they’d expect you to do. Anything good that happens, they just take it for granted.” She was doing her best to make him understand. “But if you ask the one in the pink T-shirt, she’ll feel better about herself for the next fifty years.”
Cal removed his mirrored shades and surveyed her speculatively through narrowed eyes.
“Did Josh ask you to do this? Is it some kind of secret test, to see if I pass?”
Sophie looked at Tula. Tula looked back at her. Sophie returned her attention to Cal and said, “No.”
She was saying no, but making it sound as if the answer was actually yes.
Cal assimilated this information for a couple seconds. Finally he said, “Okay. Leave it with me.”
