by Alice Raine
Oh God, he remembered my rude departure from the park, but was being light-hearted about it instead of pissed off. I was so thrown by his behaviour that I ended up mumbling an awkward ‘Sorry.’ When really, I had nothing to apologise for – although I was glad he hadn’t made more of my scowling departure, because that childish behaviour was something I wasn’t particularly proud of.
‘I forgive you, but I’m not letting you get away with it twice. Come for a drink with me.’ My reaction was dual: first I was thrown by the fact that he’d just asked me to go for a drink with him, but then I couldn’t help but frown at the domineering way that he’d basically ordered me to go. There had been no question in either his words or his tone. He simply expected me to agree. Just like Greg used to.
‘Thanks, but I really can’t,’ I replied, crossing my arms and hoping that my defensive gesture would give him the hint that I wasn’t interested. Well, I was interested – my body was, anyway – but it was against my better judgement and self-imposed rules, and not something I would be facilitating further.
‘Oh.’ Standing tall with a near perfect posture, Jack placed my bag on the ground and tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers as he continued to observe me. Picking up my shopping bag I prepared to leave, but couldn’t help but notice how his new posture made his T-shirt pull tighter across his chest, and I had to forcibly refrain from dropping my gaze to check out his physique.
‘I was just hoping to buy you a drink to say thanks for saving me twice,’ he said absently as he lowered his eyes and began to nudge at a stone on the pavement with the tip of his shiny dress shoe.
OK, he’d successfully drawn me in, so with my curiosity piqued I tilted my head and watched him, just as he was watching me. ‘Saving you?’ I queried with an incredulous smile and a raise of my eyebrow.
Looking remarkably pleased that I hadn’t left yet, he smiled. ‘Yeah, first you saved me from embarrassment in the park by not trying to sue me or go to the papers after I ran you down, and you saved me again from utter boredom tonight by being in the right place at the right time.’
I was weighing up his response with a light frown when he inclined his head like a puppy might, before widening his eyes appealingly. God, those eyes were to die for. A brown so warm and inviting it reminded me of melted chocolate or young conkers, smooth and fresh from their spiky shells. I felt something twang inside my chest and had to briefly squeeze my eyes shut to break the magnetic pull of his gaze.
Predictably, when I reopened my eyes he was still staring at me. ‘Please? Just one drink to say thanks? The bar I had in mind is literally just up here,’ he added persuasively, pointing over his shoulder. He was like a bloody Andrex puppy, with his innocent, wide eyes and beguiling looks.
Licking my lips, I tried to calm the warring emotions inside me; my protective nature yelled at me to leave, while a tiny, long-buried, curious part of me was starting to try and push to the surface. Oh, sod it. One drink couldn’t hurt … could it? Letting out a sigh, I nodded in defeat, causing Jack to grin back at me with his victory, his eyes twinkling with happiness. When he looked at me like that, how could I really refuse?
‘Great! The owner of this place knows me so I can always get a drink in peace.’
Jack set off walking, thankfully not linking our arms this time, but instead briefly reverting to his customary hand on my lower back before cursing under his breath and snatching his hand away. Looking down at me as we walked, he gave an apologetic wince. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured, not ever addressing my obvious fear of contact or prying for details, but simply respecting it, which I found incredibly endearing.
Giving a small nod of acknowledgment, we continued to walk in silence but Jack soon turned to approach a studded metal door that looked more like it belonged to a warehouse or a prison than a bar.
‘I’m glad I spotted you, you look quite different from the last time,’ he remarked with a roguish smile, holding the door open for me. Wasn’t that the truth! Last time I’d been sweaty, red, and dressed in my tatty running gear. At least today I had freshly washed hair, nice clothes, and a little make up on.
‘Likewise,’ I said, rubbing my chin with a smile to indicate the absence of his beard.
Grinning at me, Jack copied my move and gave his own chin a firm scratch, ‘Yeah, they finished filming the beard scenes yesterday, thank God. I cut it off about four hours ago, it feels bloody fantastic.’ It looked pretty bloody fantastic, too. Not that I said that out loud.
Still not entirely convinced that this was actually a bar, I tentatively poked my head inside and then smiled in surprise as I stepped over the threshold and into a surprisingly bright, pleasant space. Who’d have thought that behind that rusty metal door would be a bar this cosy? Admittedly it was tiny, but still, it was definitely a premises selling alcohol.
The interior was long and thin, hardly wider than a train carriage, and as I glanced to the right I saw that the bar itself seemed to run along almost the entire length of the wall and was accompanied by a long row of tall, velvet seated, bar stools. The opposite wall was lined with small, high-backed, leather booths that seated the few sole occupants this evening.
A man behind the bar turned to greet us jovially and then burst from behind the counter when he saw who was standing at his door. ‘Jack! Great to see you, buddy! Come on in!’ He embraced Jack heartily and gave him a good, hard slap on the back which actually made Jack step forward slightly from the impact.
I smiled at his gesture before the barman stood back and smiled at me curiously. He was smartly dressed in a white shirt, gold silk waistcoat, and pinstriped trousers. In fact, in his attire he wouldn’t have looked out of place at an upmarket wedding. Feeling myself relax a little, I decided that I liked not only the atmospheric bar, but the smiling barman too – he had a surprising likeness to Laurence Fishburne, except with a little less hair and a lot more body weight.
‘Jack, who’s your lady friend?’ he asked with a glint in his eye. I’d never given Jack my name, but Jack gave absolutely no indication that he didn’t know, instead smoothly laughing off the question.
‘Get us seated, Joe, and then I’ll do introductions.’
Nodding, Joe turned away from us and towards the back of the bar. ‘No problem. Your usual booth is free.’
As we began to follow him, I took pity on Jack and leaned up close to his ear with an amused smile. ‘My name is Cait.’
Gracing me with one of his show-stopping grins, Jack looked down at me appreciatively and nodded. ‘Thanks. Kate as in short for Katherine?’ he asked, dropping beside me as we meandered towards our seats.
‘No. Cait, spelt C-A-I-T, short for Caitlin. Comes from my grandmother’s side. She was Irish, I’m named after her. Technically, I think it’s supposed to be pronounced Cat-lin, but I’ve always been Cait-lin.’ As he continued to observe me I watched his eyes narrow slightly, his lips twitching in a smile again.
‘Caitlin. It’s a pretty name … it suits you.’ Before I could make too much of his comment, Joe had stopped in front of us and was showing us into the last booth at the bar. Jack slipped in one side and I slid over the soft leather and settled myself opposite, trying to settle my fluttering nerves.
I still couldn’t believe I was doing this. I just didn’t do this type of thing. And with Jack Felton. God, I must be nuts.
‘Nice and private,’ said Joe, giving the table a wipe despite the fact it already looked spotless, but his words stuck with me. Nice and private? Was this Jack’s usual pick-up spot? Or just somewhere he bought women when he wanted to escape being seen by journalists? Neither was a particularly pleasant idea.
Breaking my uneasy thoughts, Joe flicked the cloth over his shoulder and grinned at us. ‘So, what can I get you? Beer? Wine? I have some new red in that is fabulously smooth,’ Joe addressed his comment to myself and Jack, but both their eyes fell upon me as they waited for my choice.
‘Ur, red is great, thanks,’ I agreed, my mind still not
properly focused as I tucked my shopping bag and handbag onto the seat beside me. Before I could protest that it was only supposed to be a quick drink, Jack ordered us an entire bottle and Joe nodded happily and wandered off to get it.
Clearly savvy to my thoughts, Jack leant back casually in his seat and smiled at me as one of his hands absently traced patterns on the table as he watched me. ‘Don’t worry, I can always finish it off if you need to leave after your “one drink”.’ I knew he was mocking me for my hesitation in accompanying him, but even though he was doing it light-heartedly, I decided that two could play that game.
‘So, you bring all the ladies here, do you? It is “nice and private”, after all,’ I stated with a defiant head tilt. As far as I knew, Jack was single, but the thought that he might be rich enough, and famous enough, to get away with bringing lots of different women here for some ‘privacy’ made my stomach churn uncomfortably. Mind you, who was I to judge? Just because I chose to live my life as a celibate didn’t mean that everyone should.
‘Actually, I come here alone. It’s a good place for a bit of quiet time,’ he said simply, not rising to my bait at all.
‘Yeah right,’ I muttered under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear. Jack opened his mouth to respond but shut it and silenced his reply as Joe arrived back with the bottle of red and two glasses.
‘Here’s your wine, a French Pinot Noir from 2005. Delicious.’ Joe uncorked the bottle and began to pour a glass for Jack to test. ‘It’s nice to see you with some company at last, Jack. I was starting to worry about you always sitting here by yourself.’
Blinking at Joe and then back to an incredibly smug-looking Jack, my mouth dropped open in shock. I couldn’t believe it. Joe literally couldn’t have timed his comment better if Jack had actually paid him and scripted it for him, and I watched as Jack grinned at me over the table as if to say ‘See? I told you so.’
Apparently I’d been wrong in my assumptions, so all I could do was shake my head in defeat with a rueful, marginally apologetic smile.
‘I agree, and I couldn’t have asked for better company either,’ Jack said smoothly, still looking mighty smug. ‘Joe, this is Caitlin, a new friend of mine who has saved me from the hell of attending an awards event tonight.’
Joe turned his face towards me as he poured me a glass of wine. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Caitlin. Well, enjoy your evening, folks, holler if you need anything.’ Then, flashing us a wink, Joe headed back to the bar leaving me to turn back to Jack and swallow nervously.
Jack was smiling across at me pleasantly, his eyes twinkling mischievously as if he were mighty pleased that he’d managed to persuade me to join him, but all I could focus on was that I was sharing a drink with a man for the first time in over four years.
Just me and him. And the wine. In a bar. Did that technically make this a date?
Blinking rapidly at that alarming thought, I only just managed to nod a thank you to Jack as he filled my glass. No, of course this wasn’t a date. I didn’t date. My eyes widened marginally as my brain carried on with its runaway thoughts … Jack didn’t know that I never dated, so what if he was classing this as a date? Oh God … talk about feeling well and truly out of my depth. What the hell had I got myself into this time?
Chapter Sixteen
Allie
I’d decided to try and burn off my frustration and sadness with a run around the neighbourhood. After pounding the glitzy streets for over twenty minutes I’d swum thirty lengths in the private pool as a cool down, but even after all that exercise I was still edgy and fidgety from my stress.
Bloody man. I’d been better off when I was single. It might have been a touch boring, but at least my heart hadn’t felt as shredded as it currently did.
Now I was showered and sitting at the bar in the bungalow with my laptop on the counter and a barely touched bowl of pasta from room service going cold beside it.
Checking my phone for the millionth time I sighed at the empty screen. No calls, no texts, no emails, nada. Without even meaning to I found my finger opening up my contact list and bringing up Sean’s number. It would be so easy to call him, just one tiny press of my finger and I could be connected over the airwaves to him within seconds.
Dropping the phone onto the counter as if it were on fire I scowled and crossed my arms defiantly. I would not call him. Besides the fact that he was the one who should be calling me, there was a tiny part of me that was terrified he might reject my call and leave me hanging. What if he didn’t want to speak to me? What would that mean for our relationship?
These were questions I was too scared to contemplate at the moment, so the phone was put aside as I switched my attention to my laptop and prepared to lose myself in my writing.
Drumming my fingers on the counter I stared fixedly at the computer screen and felt rather satisfied at the quantity of text I had produced in the last hour and a half. Considering all the muddled emotions and stress I’d been under, the chapter I’d written was actually pretty good. Flicking my eyes over the final paragraph again – blood, gore, and then a nice cliff-hanger ending – I nodded in approval. Actually, it was really flipping good.
I’d been doubtful that I would manage to get any writing done, but once I’d settled down and placed my fingers on the keyboard the words had just flowed out of me in a torrent. Apparently Sean-related anxiety turned me into a creative genius.
Sighing, I added a full stop to the last line with an overly aggressive punch of my forefinger. As much as I loved my writing, I would much rather have Sean beside me than a literary masterpiece on my screen.
Just as I was about to read through the new text to scan for errors, the screen of my phone illuminated and my heart leapt into my throat. Was it Sean finally calling? As the tone filled the room I grabbed the phone only to frown when I saw an unfamiliar number on the screen. Perhaps he was calling from a different phone? Possibly he’d got stuck filming and hadn’t been able to call until now, and was using a landline at the studio?
Swiping my finger across the screen to accept the call, I lifted it to my ear and tried to ignore the way my fingers were trembling. ‘Hello?’
‘Hi there. Is that Alexis Shaw?’ The voice was that of an American woman, not Sean, but even as my system flooded with disappointment I couldn’t help the way my teeth instinctively gritted at the use of my full name.
‘It is. Can I ask who’s calling, please?’
‘My name is Julie, we met me at LA Digs hostel. I’m one of the assistant managers, but you’ll probably remember me from the café.’
Recognition flared in my mind and I couldn’t help the small smile that flitted to my lips. ‘Oh yeah, you’re the amazing cake maker.’
Julie chuckled down the line. ‘Yeah, well, that’s what everyone keeps telling me, anyway.’ There was a pause, and I was just about to ask her why she was calling me when she spoke again. ‘I got your name from the hostel records, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m trying to track down Cait and I wondered if she was with you?’ A frown immediately lowered my brows and I felt my stomach tense. I thought Cait was at the hostel?
‘Uh, no. She said she had a meeting at the hostel. Is she not there?’ As soon as the words left my tongue I realised how stupid they were, because Julie wouldn’t be calling me if Cait was where she was supposed to be.
‘No, she was here, but some of the girls went to the shops for me and when they got back they said Cait had just disappeared from the street.’
Disappeared? What the hell?
I was now up on my feet, gripping the phone like a lifeline as I paced across the bungalow to check her bedroom. As expected, I found it empty, and couldn’t help but let out a jittery sigh as I walked back to the lounge. ‘Apparently there was some event at a theatre and the girls were celebrity spotting, but Cait said she wasn’t interested and wanted to wait just along the street for them.’ That sounded like Cait; she hated crowds, so I could definitely see her opting for the side-lines.
‘When they had finished she was nowhere to be found.’
‘Have you tried her phone?’ Rolling my eyes, I realised that was my second stupid question in less than half a minute. I really needed to reel in my anxiety and engage my brain.
‘Yeah, there was no answer at first, but the last time I called it was switched off.’
Which meant she had either switched it off or it had run out of battery. This was all very unlike Cait, and I couldn’t help but worry my lower lip until I tasted blood on my tongue. Suddenly my overactive writer’s imagination began to get the better of me as a troublesome thought crossed my mind. What if someone had switched it off for her? Narrowing my eyes, I tried to shake off my paranoia as my stomach twisted with apprehension. ‘God … what do we do now?’
Julie huffed out a heavy sigh and then cleared her throat. ‘As much as I want to jump on the phone to the cops it’s way too early for that. There isn’t a great deal we can do. Sit tight and hope she’s just gone shopping, I guess.’
Hmm … Cait wasn’t much of a shopper, so I was doubtful, but there was surely some other logical explanation for her disappearance. Unfortunately, I couldn’t for the life of me think what it might be.
Trying to quell my rising panic I reassured myself with the fact that Cait had been travelling on her own for three years without any issues. She was independent and sensible and used to being on her own, so she’d probably just gone off somewhere and not thought to let me or Julie know. Glancing at my watch I saw it had just gone nine o’clock. ‘She said she’d come back here to join me for a hot chocolate before bed, so hopefully she’ll be back soon.’
‘Yeah, hopefully. Sorry to worry you, Allie, but I didn’t know who else to call. I’ll stay in touch, let’s call each other as soon as one of us hears anything.’
