Reach for a Star

by Kathryn Freeman

  When the song ended, he turned to her. ‘Now it’s your go.’

  She took a gulp of the air she’d forgotten to inhale while listening to him. How on God’s earth could anyone, least of all her, follow that? ‘It sounded amazing. I mean, wow.’

  He smiled faintly. ‘Thank you. Though if you agree to do this song, you’re going to find yourself bored to death of hearing it by the end of the week.’ He glanced down at his watch. ‘In fact, I predict by eight o’clock you’ll never want to hear me sing it again.’

  Clearly the man had no clue how much of a crush she had on him. ‘I predict in two minutes you’ll never want to hear me sing it again,’ she countered.

  Those beautiful lips curved upwards. ‘For now, I’ll settle for hearing you once.’

  His elbow nudged hers and she gingerly took the song sheet from him.

  ‘Forget the words to start,’ he told her. ‘Just try and sing a one syllable word, something like nay, nay, nay, to the right notes.’

  ‘Is this the Black Beauty version?’

  She really needed to stop trying to make him laugh and focus on what he was saying. But then his mouth curved again, the amusement reaching his eyes, and she knew she wouldn’t. Not if that was her reward.

  ‘Very funny.’ He angled his head to one side, studying her. ‘At the start, we need to KISS.’

  The comment took her by surprise and as his bright gaze captured hers she was bombarded with erotic images of them embracing. Of his lips sliding over hers, his hands reaching… she swallowed hard. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Keep It Simple, Stupid.’

  His eyes continued to watch her and yet again she wished she knew what he was thinking. Had he said it deliberately to see her reaction? ‘What a disappointment,’ she murmured.

  ‘Was it?’

  Heat raced up her neck and into her cheeks and she immediately felt stupid. What the hell was she doing, trying to flirt with a man who must hear chat-up lines far more elegant than hers, every day. ‘I… umm, sorry. Bad joke.’

  ‘Yes, of course it was. A joke, I mean. Not that it was particularly bad.’ He raked a hand through his short, dark hair and for a second she wondered if he was as rattled as she was. ‘So, if I remember correctly, you were about to nay your way through “All I Ask of You”.’

  Grateful for the dial down in intensity, Jessie smiled and prepared to sing.

  At Michael’s suggestion, they worked into the evening to make up for the time lost in the morning. Georgina ordered a pizza for them. Of course she did. The woman seemed to know what Michael needed before he even asked for it.

  By the time it arrived, Jessie wasn’t sick of hearing his voice but she was mightily sick of her own.

  ‘Come on, you’ve earned this.’ He took hold of the huge pizza box and placed it on the table, smiling at the bottle of wine and two glasses he found in the bag delivered with it. ‘Georgina thinks of everything.’

  Jessie was so grateful for the wine, she didn’t react to his words as she took a big swig. Hell, if the woman had walked in just then, there was a high chance she’d have hugged her, even though the pizza did look as if it had a million calories. She could almost see Georgina smirking, that’ll add another two pounds.

  Michael took a more considered sip from his own glass. ‘If you continue to improve like this, you might surprise your children on Saturday. In a good way,’ he added hastily, giving her a wry smile.

  ‘Thank you. Perhaps the KISS worked.’

  His eyes flew to her face. ‘It often does.’

  As she felt the heat rise once again in her cheeks, she cursed her big mouth. Taking another gulp of wine, she groped around for a conversation opener. ‘Did you always want to be a singer?’

  ‘I always loved singing. I never imagined as a child I could make any money from it.’

  ‘What do you enjoy most about it all?’

  ‘Throwing my voice across large concert halls, working with the best orchestras. Hearing the applause of the crowd when I’ve finished.’

  His answer was careful and succinct. One she guessed he’d given a million times before. ‘And what do you enjoy least?’

  ‘The fame.’ He finally met her eyes and gave her a self-mocking smile. ‘Actually, what I really don’t enjoy is people wanting my friendship, inviting me to their house, party, yacht, just because I’m famous.’

  His reply gave her a glimpse into why he was so aloof with her at times. And why he retained his best friend as his manager. ‘If it helps, I promise I won’t invite you to my house.’

  ‘Now that’s a shame.’

  Flummoxed and flustered, Jessie couldn’t think of a suitable reply. That’s what happens when you try to flirt with someone out of your league.

  They finished their pizza in silence, his words hanging between them. She’d have dismissed them as a joke but there was no amusement in his eyes. Instead he’d seemed wistful, pensive. Or was she clutching at sentiments that simply weren’t there?

  Chapter Seven

  Michael had to be going out of his mind. He’d spent most of yesterday with Jessie and yet here he was at nine the following morning walking back into the studio with, if not a spring, then certainly a slight bounce to his step.

  He was actually looking forward to seeing her again.

  All that talk of kissing yesterday must have screwed with his brain.

  There had been a moment though – if he was honest more than one – when he’d thought not of talking about it, but actually doing it. Clasping the back of her head, his hand nestling in those mass of curls, drawing her gorgeous mouth to his and covering it with his own.

  The image caused a throb of desire to pulse through him. How long had it been since he’d last felt like this? Needy, wanting. The shallow, stick-thin celebrity crazed women he came across had invariably left him feeling flat. Jessie, with her ample curves, lilting laugh and absolute normality, hadn’t just woken his libido. She’d jump-started it.

  But what the hell was he meant to do about it? He’d received mixed vibes from his attempt to flirt yesterday. Admittedly his technique was rusty, but her response – an embarrassed silence – had been less than encouraging. Even if she’d leapt into his arms though, what then? He was about to embark on a worldwide tour, for God’s sake. It wasn’t the time to start fooling around.

  ‘Hey, Mickey. How’s it hanging?’

  At the sound of that awful nickname, he snapped his head round to find Jerome Stevens, aka the rapper Playit Kool, smiling cockily over at him. Jerome was one of the five celebrities competing against him on Saturday night. ‘Good, thank you.’ Though what the hell the hanging was supposed to refer to, he wasn’t sure. ‘How are things with you?’

  ‘Everything’s sweet, man. My lady’s got a real kick-ass voice. Gonna take you down on Saturday.’ He shook his head with laughter, dreadlocks whipping round his face.

  ‘I’ll enjoy watching you try.’

  Michael’s reply caused more laughter from the rap star. ‘Oh, man, you classical dudes crack me up. Do you drink from a cup and saucer, posh boy?’

  Though his roots were buried deep in working-class soil, Michael knew Jerome wouldn’t want to hear that. Nor did the rapper actually want a reply. All he wanted was the excuse to hurl the jibe.

  So he kept quiet as Jerome swaggered away, lean hips rolling with a loose ease that made Michael feel like a geriatric needing a hip replacement. Merely saving face on Saturday was now no longer an option. He needed to win. For Jessie, for himself.

  And to show the cocksure bastard what a classical singer, born and bred on a rundown estate, who’d had abuse hurled at him on a daily basis, was capable of.

  The buzz of his phone drew his attention and he checked the screen before accepting the call. ‘Good morning, Georgina. Sorry, Georgie.’ He winced. ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘I’m just reminding you about the photo shoot later today.’

  ‘Oh, blast.’ How had that slipped his mind?

&nbs
p; ‘You did ask me to schedule it this week,’ she reminded him with a slight edge.

  He had, though that had been before he’d met Jessie. Before he’d known how much he enjoyed being with her. And how much he wanted to win the damn competition. ‘Yes, no problem. I’ll be there.’

  ‘How are the rehearsals going? Do you need any more excuses to escape?’

  He frowned, wishing he hadn’t let slip how much he’d been dreading this week. ‘I’m good, thank you.’

  ‘Okay then, I’ll leave you to it. The cab to take you to the photo shoot is booked for two p.m. Shout if you need anything else. Anything at all.’

  He cringed, hoping to God he’d got it wrong and she hadn’t deliberately lowered her voice for the last three words.

  When he opened the door to the rehearsal room he experienced a pang of disappointment at not finding Jessie. The film crew were there setting up though, so he made small talk with them while he waited.

  And waited.

  It wasn’t long before his disappointment mushroomed into frustration. Where the hell was she? He wasn’t the one who needed the damn practice.

  When she finally turned up half an hour later, the camera crew had given up – though not before getting a few candid shots of him pacing – and Michael was within a whisker of doing the same. ‘Good morning, or should I say afternoon?’

  She looked flushed and out of breath. ‘I’m so sorry. I was on the phone and it took longer than I expected.’

  ‘You need all the rehearsal time you can get, Jessie.’ The meeting with the rapper, the frustration of the last half an hour, simmered inside him. ‘I’m not here this afternoon, so we’ve only got this morning.’ Admittedly that was his fault, not hers, but still. ‘It’s time to take this competition more seriously. I hope I don’t have to remind you my reputation is on the line here, too.’ Temper fizzing inside him he stalked over to the piano and sat down, waiting for her to follow.

  She didn’t. Instead she remained in the middle of the room, clutching at her hands. ‘The reason I’m late is because my son wanted to go through the words for his assembly with me. The assembly I’m missing because I’m here.’ Though her voice shook, her eyes stared unflinchingly into his. ‘I realise it won’t seem important to you, but to him it’s a very big deal. Which means it’s a very big deal for me, too.’

  His heart plummeted as he began to see how much he’d blundered. ‘Jessie—’

  ‘And one more thing,’ she interrupted. ‘I’m giving up five precious days of my children’s lives to be here and do this. I want to make them proud of me. So if you think for one minute I’m not taking this seriously, you can damned well think again.’

  Brown eyes flashing, she turned and strode out of the room, leaving Michael staring first at her rigid back, and then the door as it rattled back into the doorframe.

  Bollocks.

  Why hadn’t he thought to ask her why she was late, before launching into her? His singing might be world-class, but his interpersonal skills totally sucked.

  Jessie finished drying her eyes and was inspecting their appearance – puffy and bloodshot, perfect, just perfect – when she heard a knock on the door.

  ‘Jessie, it’s Michael. Are you in there?’

  ‘No.’

  She wasn’t in the mood to talk to him just yet. Already feeling wobbly after talking to Jack and Luke, Michael’s snide comments had tipped her over the edge.

  To her astonishment the door opened and Michael’s tall figure stood in the doorway.

  ‘This is the ladies, Michael. Men aren’t welcome.’

  ‘Any men, or just me?’ he countered, looking distinctly uneasy. ‘I wanted to check up on you. You’ve been gone a long time.’

  ‘I’m perfectly okay, thank you. Though my face has probably seen better days.’

  ‘You look fine to me.’

  Clearly on his best behaviour again, he gave her a cautious smile. She willed herself not to smile back just yet. He’d been bloody rude. Just because he was gorgeous didn’t mean he could trample over her.

  ‘I also came to apologise.’ His eyes drifted from her and over to the cubicles. ‘If it’s all the same with you though, could I do the grovelling back in the rehearsal room? The ladies’ toilet isn’t a natural environment for me.’

  Nope, she still wasn’t going to smile. She wasn’t. Nodding briskly, she walked with him in silence back to the rehearsal room. As he closed the door she moved to the other side of the room. Distance was good when dealing with someone you had an unhealthy crush on.

  He glanced over, gave her a wry smile and sighed. Then he did something unexpected. He walked towards her, coming to a stop right in front of her. As he put a hand on her shoulder her pulse began to hammer and she didn’t know where to look. His broad chest, clearly defined beneath his freshly ironed blue shirt. Or higher, to his throat with its sexy Adam’s apple. Or to his mouth. Oh God, she couldn’t look at those lips and not want to feel them on hers. But then the hand moved from her shoulder to her chin, and as he angled her face upwards she had no option but to look straight into his eyes.

  It was the first time she’d been this close to him. When amused, his eyes could look like the brightest of sapphires, but she’d also seen them as cold and uninviting as the North Sea. Right now, they were calm, quiet waters.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly. ‘I should have realised you were phoning home, of course you have to do that. I can be a thoughtless sod sometimes. Can you forgive me?’

  The contrition in his eyes, the deep lull of his voice. Jessie replied with a nod, swallowing to try and lubricate her throat.

  Relief darted across his face and she tried not to be touched by it.

  Breaking their eye contact he moved over to the piano. Taking her cue, Jessie went to join him. ‘I am taking this seriously, you know.’

  His handsome face looked pained. ‘I know you are. I should never have said that.’ He paused, clearly choosing his next words carefully. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before, and I don’t want to let you down. I don’t want either of us to regret this.’

  ‘I’ve got no regrets so far,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Not even the missed assembly?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘The cold pizza?’

  She smiled. ‘Not even that.’ Especially not that, she thought, recalling the way he’d almost flirted with her.

  ‘I hope it remains that way.’ His eyes lingered on hers and yet again she wondered what was going on behind the handsome mask. All too quickly he looked away, and started to play.

  Two hours later and Jessie was still getting the words jumbled.

  ‘You’re doing fine, really. We’ve got another two full days to get this right.’

  ‘Wow, two whole days?’ The sigh that escaped her was tinged with resignation. ‘Two weeks wouldn’t be long enough.’

  ‘Two days is plenty of time to show an improvement.’

  Why did he still look and sound so chipper, when she felt knackered? ‘I hadn’t realised how tiring singing was. How on earth do you manage when you’re on stage?’

  ‘I’ve been doing it a little longer than you.’ Another small smile, the fifth this afternoon. ‘It helps to keep fit though. I swim when I can, and run most days. What about you? You look like you keep in shape.’

  She did? The moment the compliment started to register she felt the hot stain creep across her cheeks. ‘I run when I get the chance.’ No point mentioning that the chances didn’t come along very often.

  ‘How about tomorrow?’

  ‘Well, I suppose I could.’ She had brought her trainers. Then again—

  ‘I’ll meet you in the lobby at seven thirty a.m.’

  ‘What?’ Oh no, that wasn’t happening. No way was she running with him. ‘I wouldn’t want to slow you down, so—’

  ‘It doesn’t matter how fast we go.’

  She huffed. ‘Are you doing this so I won’t be late again?’

 
He grimaced, looking offended. ‘I probably deserved that but no, I have no ulterior motive.’ With a deep sigh, he glanced at his watch. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go now. I have a meeting with a woman and a camera.’ At her questioning glance, he added. ‘She’s going to take some photos of me for the magazine piece I did yesterday.’

  ‘Sounds glamorous.’

  If anything, his sigh was even heavier. ‘It isn’t. Staring into a camera lens while wearing clothes chosen by somebody else isn’t my idea of fun.’ He hesitated. ‘I’m aware this is cutting into our rehearsal time, so if you want to carry on when I get back…’

  Pleasure shot through her at the thought of spending the evening with him again. Even if she’d have to sing for her supper. But then she remembered this morning and shook her head. ‘I need to catch up with the boys. I’ve only managed hurried phone calls so far and I’d like to have a proper conversation with them. Find out how the assembly went this morning. Besides, I suspect you won’t feel like meeting up after your afternoon gazing into a camera.’

  He nodded briefly, not meeting her eyes. Was he disappointed? Relieved? Cross?

  ‘Well, then.’ He angled his head, stunning her by planting a very gentle kiss on her cheek. ‘Enjoy the rest of your day.’

  ‘I… thank you,’ she stammered, the cheek tingling from the press of his lips. God, she’d never be able to wash her face again.

  He flicked a small smile before turning and walking away, leaving her staring after him like a lovesick fan.

  Did it make her a bad mother that for a beat, just a tiny sliver of a second while Luke was recounting his day, her mind had drifted wistfully to Michael, and the evening she could have spent?

  ‘Mum?’

  Guiltily she focussed back on her youngest son. ‘It sounds like you totally nailed the assembly. I can’t wait to watch the video when I come home.’ If Phil had remembered to take the camera. And to use it. ‘Do you want to put Dad on the phone now?’

  A loud clatter followed, which Jessie assumed was Luke dropping the phone. ‘How is singing with the great tenor going then?’ Phil asked when he finally came on.

  ‘He’s great, I’m struggling.’