by Jill Mansell
“Don’t sound so outraged.” Dan held up his hands. “He’s a good-looking guy. Girls love him. You must have fancied him.”
“I didn’t, I swear.” If she said so herself, Lily was doing a fantastic job of playing it cool. For once in her life, she wasn’t blushing scarlet, looking guilty, or sounding like the world’s most unconvincing fibber.
“Not even a tiny bit?”
Her confidence grew. “Not even a smidgeon. I mean, nice enough guy, but not my type.”
“Well, I’m impressed,” Dan said. “I honestly thought you’d get one of your crushes on him and fantasize about him falling under your spell.”
“Wait, what are you even talking about? For a start, I wouldn’t fantasize about him,” said Lily. “And second, what do you mean, one of my crushes? When did I last have a crush on someone?”
“That movie you couldn’t stop watching. The Proposal. Ryan Reynolds,” Dan reminded her. “You had a massive crush on him.”
“Oh, come on, it wasn’t a real-life crush! He’s a movie star!”
“So’s Eddie Tessler.”
“Fine,” said Lily. “All the more reason not to have a crush on him.”
“Not even a secret one?”
“Not even a secret one. Why do you keep going on about it?”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was.” Dan shrugged and gave her one of his glittery apologetic smiles. “I’ll stop now.” Minuscule pause. “I just wondered why you’d Googled him twenty-seven times in the last four days, that’s all.”
Too late, Lily remembered that when you found yourself on the receiving end of one of those smiles, it meant the one-upmanship wasn’t about to go in your favor.
Bugger.
Actually no, never mind bugger. Fuck.
Aloud, she said coolly, “You mean you’ve been snooping? Scrolling through my phone and my private messages? That’s a bit low, isn’t it? Even for you.”
Now she could feel the heat emanating from her face, and her palms were so slick with perspiration that if she tried to pick up her drink, it would probably slip right through her fingers and crash back onto the table.
Which would amuse Dan no end, the bastard.
“I wasn’t snooping. I’d never snoop. And I wouldn’t dream of reading your private messages,” he protested. “That would be reprehensible.”
“Plus you don’t know my email password.”
“I wouldn’t want to know it.” He looked wounded at the very thought. “All I did was click on Safari so I could order a new charger, and there were all the pages already open. You really shouldn’t leave them open like that, you know. It drains the battery.”
Lily wished she could drain his battery. She said, “I didn’t have twenty-seven pages open.”
“I know. There were about five. But then I checked your search history to see if there was maybe some kind of fault with your phone. That was when the list came up, and I saw how many times you’d typed in his name.” Dan shrugged his good shoulder. “I mean, twenty-seven. That’s quite a number of times to check up on someone you’re not remotely interested in.”
He wasn’t even bothering to keep a straight face. Lily said, “God, you’re smug.”
“I’m not. I just happen to think honesty’s the best policy. You liked him, and you thought maybe he liked you. You hoped he’d be in touch, but it hasn’t happened. There’s no need to be embarrassed about that.”
“I’m not embarrassed.”
“You’re still bright red, though,” Dan pointed out. “Hey, it’s fine. A bit of harmless cyberstalking never hurt anyone.”
“I haven’t been cyberstalking! I looked him up on Google, that’s all!”
“Twenty-seven times,” Dan murmured.
Lily took a deep breath; the temptation to throw a drink at him had never been greater. The really annoying thing was that she hadn’t even realized she’d done it that often. She stared deliberately past Dan and stayed silent.
“Did he seduce you? Is that why?”
“Oh, for crying out loud, no.”
“But you wish he had.”
“Will you stop trying to wind me up? I could always break your other foot.” She didn’t completely mean it, but almost. Since childhood, Dan had delighted in teasing her, making fun of her weaknesses and catching her out. And she’d done the same to him in return. But this time felt different, possibly because he was right on the money: she had wanted more to happen and, gullibly, had thought Eddie might have been in touch. Even a brief text, a friendly couple of lines would have been enough.
Except it hadn’t happened, and yes, secretly she was a little miffed.
Plus, there was nothing more annoying than being disappointed by one man and caught out by another who you knew was never going to let you forget it.
Just to make herself feel better, Lily dipped her fingers in her drink and flicked droplets of iced spritzer at Dan. Not too much; that would be a waste.
“Cruel.” Dan bent down to greet Barbara, who had waddled over to say hello. “See that, Barb? Now she’s trying to drown me.”
Barbara wagged her tail.
“I hate you,” said Lily.
“Only some of the time.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Ah, but you are secretly glad I’m back.”
“Why would I be glad? Look at you.” Lily indicated his strapped-up arm and plastered foot. “It’s not as if you’re going to be any use to anyone.”
“Don’t be so dismissive. I could be capable of more than you think,” Dan said playfully. “You don’t know what I can or can’t do until you let me try.”
Chapter 21
At eleven thirty the next morning, Lily was standing in a crowded auction room in Bristol. As she waited to bid on life-size resin sculptures of a pair of Friesian cows, her phone—switched to silent—began to buzz in her pocket, signaling an incoming call.
“Now we come to Lot 88,” said the auctioneer. “And if you’re thinking of starting your own farm but you’re too lazy to do the milking, we’ve got some cattle here that could be right up your alley. Or should I say farmyard, ha-ha-ha-HA!”
The auctioneer fancied himself a comedian and liked to brighten proceedings with his own brand of humor. He beamed around the room. “Who’ll start the bidding, then, at three hundred pounds?”
Lily had no intention of answering her phone, obviously. Until she saw the name flashing up on the screen and let out an involuntary squeak of surprise.
Eddie.
Eddie Tessler.
Oh my God oh my God…
“Come on, you lot, don’t you go milking the situation.” The auctioneer chuckled at his own wit.
“Three hundred!” a voice called out from the back.
Eddie was phoning her right here, right now. Paralyzed with indecision, Lily felt her cell phone buzz for the third time. Bidding at auction always prompted an adrenaline rush, and now her heart had gone into double overdrive thanks to this two-pronged assault. If it were anyone else calling, she’d leave it, but this wasn’t anyone else—it was Eddie. What if she returned the call later and he didn’t answer it? What if this was her one and only chance to speak to him again?
“Come on, ladies and gentlemen, don’t be moo-dy, who’ll give me three fifty?”
What if he took offense and blocked her number? He was a movie star; people in his position didn’t take kindly to being ignored.
“Three fifty,” called out a voice to Lily’s left.
“Three seventy,” said another.
“That’s more like it,” the auctioneer announced. “Now we’re moo-ving! Who’ll give me—”
“Four hundred,” shrieked Lily, a bit more high-pitched than she’d intended. In her hand, the phone buzzed for the fifth time.
Mimicking her i
n a squeaky falsetto, the auctioneer said, “What was that? Four hundred from the mouse in the room?”
Above the sound of laughter, someone else shouted, “Four twenty.”
Lily already had a buyer lined up for the life-size black-and-white cows; they had a regular customer with a weakness for such quirky items and a huge garden to put them in. Already backing out of the room, she yelled, “Four fifty,” then pressed answer and said, “Hello?”
This time, thank goodness, not in a helium voice.
“Hi, it’s me. Eddie.”
“I know it is.” Despite the fact that she was trying to squeeze between two enormous men in scratchy tweed jackets, she found herself grinning like an idiot. “Hi.”
“Four seventy,” cried a new voice right behind her.
Oh bugger. Twisting round, Lily raised her free arm and yelled, “Five hundred.”
“Sorry?” said Eddie.
“Five hundred from the little mouse with the curly hair,” the auctioneer announced. “Ladies and gentlemen, any udder bids?”
“Five twenty,” shouted Lily, flustered.
“Whoa, little mouse, not your turn! Hold your horses,” said the auctioneer. “Or should I say Friesians!”
“What on earth’s going on?” said Eddie.
At least he couldn’t see how much of a flap she was in. Pressing the phone tighter against her ear so she could hear him above the sound of everyone else laughing at her mistake, Lily said, “I’m at an auction.”
“Sounds like a rowdy pub. What are you buying?”
“Two cows.”
“Seriously?”
“Not real ones. Life-size models. Hang on a sec.” Someone else was bidding five hundred and twenty pounds now. Covering the phone, she countered with “Five fifty.”
“How dare they bid against you?” Eddie sounded amused. “So rude.”
“I know, it’s a shocking breach of etiquette.”
“Want me to call back later?”
“I’ll be done in just a minute if you’re OK to hang on. Six hundred!”
“Ow, my ear.”
“Whoops, sorry.” This time she’d forgotten to cover the receiver.
“Six hundred and twenty,” said the auctioneer.
“Seven hundred pounds,” said Eddie.
“Don’t do that. You’ll get me muddled again.”
“Seventeen hundred.”
“Stop it.”
He was laughing now. “Seventeen thousand.”
“Seven hundred pounds,” Lily called out, to counteract the woman across the room who had just bid six fifty.
“Any advance on seven hundred?” The auctioneer gazed around, gavel raised. “Is that it? Are we all done at seven hundred?”
“Yes we are,” shouted Eddie, causing Lily to snort with laughter.
There were no more bids. The gavel came down, and the auctioneer said, “Well done, little mouse. The cows are yours. And I reckon you deserve a pat on the back. Get it? A pat on the back!”
In her ear, Eddie said, “He’s amazing. Someone should give that man a headline spot at Caesar’s Palace.”
Lily squeezed past the people at the back of the auction room and made her way outside.
“There, I’m in the parking lot. I can hear you properly now.”
“Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.”
“It’s a parking lot, not the Savoy Hotel.” But there was a stone step to one side of the building. Lily took up occupancy and stretched her legs out in front of her. It was both surreal and lovely hearing Eddie’s voice again. “Where are you, anyway?”
“In LA.”
“Wow, really?” She already knew where he was, thanks to all the diligent cyberstalking. He’d flown over there three days ago and was in talks with James Cameron about appearing in his next movie alongside Sandra Bullock. Oh my life, just imagine.
“You mean you haven’t been Googling to see what I’m up to? My ego just crashed and burned.”
“I may have checked once or twice. Definitely no more than twenty-seven times.” Why, why did she blurt things out without thinking them through? It really wasn’t doing her any favors. She kicked off her flip-flops and gazed sadly at her dusty feet. He’d think she was a stalker now for sure.
But Eddie was laughing. “Thank you for resurrecting my ego. Even if you’re only saying it to make me feel better. Can I tell you something?”
“If you must.” She felt herself begin to relax.
“I’ve missed talking to you. Missed our chats. I thought maybe you’d text or call. But you haven’t.”
“I thought you might call me, but you didn’t.” In for a penny.
“I was waiting for you.”
“I’m a girl.”
“Don’t give me that. You’re not shy.”
“I’m not shy,” Lily agreed. “But you’re the famous one. I’m the civilian.”
“Oh right, fair enough.” He sounded surprised.
“Do you always wait for girls to phone you first?”
“Yes.” Of course he did.
“Well then,” said Lily. “There you go.”
“I guess I’ve been told.” He was smiling; she could feel it. “Maybe this is what I’ve missed. Anyway, did you hear back from that guy?”
“Johnny Depp? Yeah, he kept phoning and calling around, but I’ve taken out a restraining order now.” The initial shock of hearing from Eddie had subsided, and they were falling back into their easy, jokey way of carrying on.
“Glad to hear it. How about your mum’s boyfriend?”
“Which one?” For some reason, it felt like a test. If he could remember the name, it meant he was properly interested.
“Are you checking to see if I was paying attention? Declan,” Eddie said. “Declan Madison. And I want extra points for the surname.”
Pleased, Lily said, “Ten extra points and a silver star.”
“Silver? Why not gold?”
“You only get gold if you can tell me his birthday.”
Eddie laughed. “Has he been in touch?”
“Better than that. He turned up, spent the whole day with us. Honestly, it was fantastic. He brought photos of him and Mum together. And he had stories, so many stories. It was just brilliant. We really hit it off. Even when we weren’t talking about Mum, he was still fantastic company.” Lily did her best to make Eddie understand.
“Telling me about his sisters and his nephews, and everything he’s done in the past. You know how sometimes you meet someone and it’s so comfortable it feels like you’ve known them forever? It’s weird, but it was exactly like that. And the way he talked about my mum… Oh God, I don’t know how to explain. It just kind of got me. It meant so much.”
“I can tell.” Eddie sounded amused. “That’s great. I’m so glad. So will you see him again?”
“I hope so. He said we will.” Suddenly struck by a thought, Lily said, “Hang on, what time is it where you are?”
“Three forty-five. In the morning.”
“Oh my God, why are you even awake?”
“Jet lag. It’s hideous.”
“Are you in bed?” For some reason, she’d been picturing him sitting in an office in a smart suit.
He laughed. “I am. You sound shocked.”
“I am shocked. I thought you had clothes on.”
“Sorry. Tell yourself I’m wearing striped pajamas.”
“And a long, woolen dressing gown. And old men’s slippers.” It wasn’t working at all; her brain knew better.
“How’s Patsy?”
“Good. She’s got another date lined up for tomorrow night, and this one definitely doesn’t ride a tandem. She’s checked.”
“Wise move.”
“Oh, and Dan’s back for the next few weeks. He had a
n accident and broke his collarbone. And his foot. It was his girlfriend who gave the game away about you staying at Patsy’s, by the way. Dan’s only just found out. He’s really sorry.”
“’S OK. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
Lily could hear the lot numbers rising inside the hall; she had more items waiting to be bid on. “Look, I’m going to have to get back to the auction… Coral will shoot me if I miss out on the lots she’s after.”
“I’ll let you go.” Eddie’s voice softened. “It’s been nice to chat. Maybe you’ll call me next time.”
“Maybe. What are you doing today?”
“Nothing much. Having lunch with Sandra Bullock.”
Of course he was. It was a hard life being a movie star. “Poor you,” Lily said cheerfully. “And here’s me wondering how to squeeze two model cows, a dining table, and sixteen Victorian chimney pots into the back of a van. If I’m lucky, my lunch will be a doughnut and a mug of tea.”
Chapter 22
Patsy checked her face in the rearview mirror and redid her lipstick before climbing out of the car. It never stopped being scary, but at this moment the possibilities were limitless. Secretly, she had high hopes for this evening’s blind date. You never knew, this could be it.
And it wasn’t a blind date either. His name was James; she’d seen enough photos of him to know exactly what he looked like; and they’d exchanged enough emails for her to be reassured that he was charming, intelligent, witty, and able to spell. Basically he seemed great. Better still, when she’d asked him if he owned a bike, he’d said not since he was thirteen. Which, let’s face it, was a major plus.
OK, here we go. She crossed the road and made her way into the restaurant. He was sitting at the table waiting for her. Which was always a good start. He was wearing a nice burgundy-and-white-striped shirt and—phew—not a pair of turquoise Lycra leggings. Dark trousers, that was fine. Well-polished shoes too. And a smile.
“Patsy. At last. Lovely to meet you.”
He greeted her with a genial kiss on the cheek, and Patsy wondered if, years from now, they would reminisce about this first meeting. Was this the man she was destined to spend the rest of her life with? Would they have children together? Was it weird to be thinking these things within ten seconds of meeting someone?
