The Hopeless Romantic's Handbook

by Gemma Townley

  Kate looked at her hesitantly. Drama and life stories? That’s what she wanted?

  “Have you ever thought about us taking on something… bigger?” Kate asked tentatively. “Like, say, a hospice, or something?”

  Magda shrugged. “That’s where people go to die, isn’t it? I can’t really see that working. We want life stories, not death ones, Kate. Anyway, look, I better get on. Don’t worry about the paperwork. You just concentrate on getting that ceiling filmable, yeah?”

  She hurried off, and Kate’s brow furrowed in thought. Magda was wrong. The hospice would make great television, and that way she’d get the funding for the transformation. She just had to think of a way to persuade her.

  “Okay, so Joe, you sit right there. You’re going to be fed cream cheese on a cracker, and I want you to lick your lips afterward. But make sure there’s no cream cheese on your tongue when you do it.” The director pointed to a leather chair and Joe obediently sat down.

  “And then I say my line?” Joe asked.

  “No. We’re going to film it before and edit it in. Can’t risk you having a mouth full of cream cheese.”

  “And when do you think my costar might get here?” Joe asked with a loud sigh. “What’s keeping her, anyway?”

  The director frowned. “Where’s Penny?” he demanded. “What’s holding her up?”

  “Makeup,” someone shouted. “They’re having problems achieving the dewy skin you wanted.”

  “Well, tell them to get a move on,” the director shouted back. “So, Joe, why don’t you practice your line? Remember, you need to look right into the camera.”

  Joe cleared his throat. “Mmmm, creamy,” he said.

  “Yeah, that’s great. But maybe with a bit more sex appeal? We want housewives to get excited by this, okay?”

  Joe nodded and tried again. “Mmm. Creamy,” he said lasciviously.

  “Hmm. Sexy, but not porn film. We want that All-American Boy feel, you know? Flirtatious but not threatening. You know what I mean?”

  “Sure,” Joe said. “All-American. Gotcha.”

  He opened his mouth to say the line again, but before he could, a scrawny-looking woman with peroxided hair arrived on the set.

  “These fucking makeup people are a joke,” she seethed. “I could do a better job than them. And where’s the director? I want to talk about my lines.”

  The director walked over and smiled. “Hi Penny, I’m Andrew. And don’t worry about lines—yours is a visual role.”

  “That’s the problem,” the woman said angrily. “Either you give me a line, or I’m out of here.”

  “You want a line?” the director asked.

  The woman smiled. “There, that wasn’t so hard. Now, who’s this?” She was looking at Joe and he flinched.

  “Joe Rogers,” he said. “I’m Joe Rogers, ma’am.”

  She appraised him. “Well, yes, I think you’ll do.”

  “You think I’ll do?” he asked. “Andrew, what the hell is this?”

  Andrew gave a patient smile. “Penny, Joe is a successful actor, so we’re very lucky to have him here. Joe, Penny Pennington is a bit of a British institution. I’m sure you’ll get along famously.”

  Joe frowned. “Penny Pennington from Future: Perfect? You had a hit single way back when?”

  Penny’s eyes narrowed. “Well, you do know your stuff. And it wasn’t that way back, if you don’t mind.” She moved closer to Joe and sat down on the arm of his chair. “So you’re a successful actor, are you? Why have I never seen you in anything?”

  “I’ve been working in the States until recently.” Joe smiled thinly. “I’ve worked on some big shows over there.”

  Penny met his eyes and licked her lips. “And now you’re over here. Looking for fame and glory?”

  “Looking for interesting work.”

  “Like cream cheese advertisements?” Penny asked silkily

  Joe’s eyes narrowed.

  “So tell me, Joe,” Penny continued. “Have you got yourself a girlfriend over here in England?”

  Joe nodded.

  “Shame,” Penny said. “Because I think we’d make rather a photogenic couple, don’t you? I can see a double page spread in OK! magazine coming out rather well.”

  Joe’s eyes widened slightly. A double page spread? “Right. Well, I’m taken, so I guess that won’t be happening.” He allowed a little uncertainty into his voice.

  “I guess it won’t,” Penny agreed with a pout. Then she smiled again. “So who is this girlfriend? She must be quite something.”

  “I think you know her, actually,” Joe said, shrugging. “Kate Heth-erington. From your show.”

  Penny’s eyes widened. “Kate?”

  Joe nodded, and Penny laughed. “God, and there I was thinking your girlfriend would be competition. Now I’m just questioning your judgment.” She looked at him meaningfully, then turned to Andrew.

  “So, Andrew, about my lines. I was thinking that as I feed Joe here the cream cheese, I could say ‘So, honey, how do you like this?’ “

  She smiled, winningly, and Andrew, defeated, turned to his assistant. “We’re going to need more coffee.” He exhaled deeply. “I think this is going to be a long day.”

  17

  Keeping Romance Alive

  Starting a romance is easy. You may not think so, but believe me, people start romances all the time. It’s keeping romances going that’s the difficult bit—keeping the interest going, keeping the romance alive. So what can the hopeless romantic do to make sure her dreams don’t just come true but stay true, day after day, week after week?

  The answer is simple: You must look after yourself, and you must look after the man in your life.

  Looking after yourself is covered in the next chapter, where we’ll look at the preparation required to look naturally, effortlessly beautiful. Looking after the man in your life is just as important. A man who feels that he is the center of your world, who knows that he will always have your full attention, and who can rely on you to put him first and address his needs before your own, will be a man who loves you, honors you, and stays true to you….

  Joe was exhausted. Eight hours he’d been filming for an advert that was going to last less than two minutes. And they said they might need him back tomorrow, too. With that woman. God, Penny Pennington drove him crazy. All she talked about was herself, her line, her shot.

  He hated big-headed women. They were such a pain in the ass to be around. So much better to hang out with women who were interested in him, who wanted to make him happy. Like Kate. She always seemed to want to listen to what he had to say. Which was exactly as it should be, Joe thought.

  Just wait till he told her he’d been working with Penny, he thought with a smile. Of all the people. She wouldn’t believe it.

  Still, it was money. And it would be profile. His agent had promised great things from this. Just yesterday he’d auditioned for a crime show, and he had a good feeling about it. Frowning, he dug out his phone. Might as well check in. Might as well see how things were.

  “Bob!” he said, when his line connected. “It’s me. Just finished filming. Thought I’d see how my audition went yesterday, what else is in the cards, that kind of thing.”

  “Joe! Great to hear from you. So filming went well, did it? How did you get on with your leading lady?”

  “Nightmare,” Joe said. “So, about my auditions?”

  Bob drew in his breath. “Joe, I’m not going to lie to you, you didn’t get the part. But I don’t want you to get downhearted. Something good will come your way, I know it.”

  “Right,” Joe said uncertainly. “They give you any feedback?”

  “They loved you,” Bob enthused. “Really loved you. But it’s that profile thing, Joe. It’s a problem for us. People like a recognizable face.”

  “Recognizable. Right.”

  “The advert will help. Only it’s not due to air for another three months …”

  “Three months? What t
he hell am I going to do for three months? Man, this is a joke.”

  “I know, I know. Joe, I’m on your side. But it’s competitive out there. If you’re not a celebrity already, it’s hard to get people’s attention. I’m working on it, though. When the ad comes out, we’ll see if we can’t get you a little snippet in Hot Gossip magazine. Get people talking about you.”

  “Hot Gossip magazine.”

  “Sure. Or maybe not Hot Gossip, but certainly one of the listings magazines. I’m sure we could get you an inch or so in one of them. With a photo.”

  “And that’s how you get acting work around here? You get your face in magazines?”

  “Bear with me, Joe. I know it’s tough.” Bob encouraged him. “But you can do it. I know you can.”

  “Sure,” Joe said morosely. “Whatever.”

  The doorbell went, and Kate put her book down and got up to open it. “Hi!” she said, leaning up to put her arms around Joe’s neck. “How was the filming?”

  “Yeah, it was okay,” Joe said. “You’ll never guess who my costar was.”

  Kate frowned. “Who?”

  “One Penny Pennington.”

  “No! Oh, God, you poor thing. Was she horrible?”

  “Worse than horrible. You have my full sympathy for working with that woman.” He made his way to the kitchen and sat down with a sigh. “You ever been in Hot Gossip magazine?” he asked.

  Kate looked at him strangely. “Me? No. Why?”

  “You’re on television, right? I mean, you’re like a mini-celebrity. You could get yourself in there, couldn’t you?”

  Kate laughed outright. “Joe, I am not even a Z-list celebrity. I’m on a crappy show on cable that no one watches and I can guarantee that Hot Gossip magazine would never be interested in me in a million years.”

  “Shame,” Joe said. “So you don’t think they’d be interested in our relationship? You know, television star and LA actor?”

  “Like Teri Hatcher and George Clooney, you mean?” Kate giggled. “Yeah, I’m sure they’d be all over it.”

  Joe smiled wryly. “Hey, it was just a thought. So what have you got cooking there? Something good? I’m starving.”

  “How does lasagna followed by chocolate pudding sound?” she asked. “All cooked by hand, from scratch.”

  “You know, I think I’m in love with you,” Joe said, his eyes shining as he looked at Kate.

  She gulped. “In … in love?”

  “Sure. What, you’re not in love with me?”

  Kate looked at Joe hesitantly, then broke into a broad, happy smile. Maybe Americans fell in love quickly, she found herself thinking. Maybe the problem with English men was that they took too long to make their minds up. “Of course I am,” she said, reaching her arms around his neck and resting her head gratefully on his shoulder. She’d found love, she realized. Found true love. And it had all been so easy.

  “Well, that’s good,” Joe said easily. “So, this food, is it ready? I’m famished.”

  “Just another ten minutes,” Kate said, pulling herself away and walking to the oven. “Now, tell me about your day. I want to hear everything.”

  Sal thought she might be about to throw up. She felt wretched, and she’d only been on the bloody machine for about ten minutes. She used to be able to run the 1500 meters with no sweat, and now she had been decimated by a pathetic jog.

  She stepped off the machine slowly and luckily had the forethought to hold on to its side; as her feet touched the ground, her legs almost buckled beneath her. Crumpling to the floor was hardly a good look on her first visit to the gym. With Jim.

  He’d been really sweet, signing her in and showing her around, all smiles and flirty little comments like “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find it a breeze.” She wasn’t used to people saying nice things. It wasn’t that Ed wasn’t nice— of course he was. But he was Ed. Very early on in their relationship they’d been relaxed enough in each other’s company to forgo all the niceties like saying “you look good today” instead choosing to bestow affectionate insults. Neither of them was a terribly romantic person; they weren’t the sort to send red roses or call the other the love of their life. So rather than call Sal “gorgeous” or “darling,” Ed called her “midget” because she was only 5‘ 4“ to his 61;” instead of calling him “my love” or “my destiny” she called him “chunky hunk” because of his expanding girth. They regularly referred to themselves and each other as “dull middle-aged bores” in a self-deprecating-but-actually-quite-smug way. After all, she’d always thought that they were dull because they were happy. Married. Settled.

  But now it didn’t seem quite so a warm. Last night, when Ed had looked all grumpy at the idea of spending two weeks on holiday with her, she’d started to think that maybe things were even more serious than she’d feared. Two weeks with his wife was too much for Ed to contemplate.

  The truth was that now the word settled had a very different ring to it. Dull seemed to be a description of her marriage. And real middle age was only just around the corner.

  “You alright?” Sal looked up to see Jim grinning at her with a concerned look. “Yes. Oh, yes, I’m fine. Just… well, haven’t been to the gym for a while,” she lied, forcing a smile onto her face and hoping that the nausea would go away.

  “Well, I’m going to be done quite soon—maybe we could have a juice? They’ve got a nice café downstairs.”

  “Great!” Sal could see spots before her eyes and needed desperately to shove her head between her legs, but until Jim walked away, she knew she would stay upright, grinning inanely at him.

  Thankfully he turned round and made his way to the free weights section, leaving Sal to run to a mat and flop down, pretending to stretch her hamstrings. A juice. That would be nice. And there was no reason to feel even a smidgeon of guilt. It was a juice, not a drink! Well, okay, it was a drink, but not an alcoholic one. Not one that had any suggestion of anything other than rehydration to it.

  So why was she feeling a tremor of fear, anticipation, and excitement? Why had she packed some eyeliner and foundation in her gym bag so that she could make herself presentable after her shower? Why had she blushed—only figuratively, since her face had been so red already from exertion that it just wasn’t possible to flush any further—when Jim had brushed his arm against hers just now?

  She knew why. Of course she knew. She’d already committed the crime, that’s why. Just one little word. Not even a whole word. And by saying it, she might as well have taken off her wedding ring, put on a low-cut top, and gone to some cheap bar an hour before closing time. Even now, she wasn’t sure why or how she’d said it. How she could be so brutal, so cruel, so … honest.

  On the way to the gym, Jim had said, “You’re married aren’t you?”

  She’d replied, “Yes, that’s right.”

  Then he’d asked, “Happily?”

  And she had said …

  Sal cringed and felt the guilt flare up inside her like a fire in a paper factory.

  She had said ish.

  18

  “What time is Ed going to be back?”

  “God knows,” Sal said, rolling her eyes as she peeled vegetables at her large double sink whilst Kate chopped. Kate couldn’t help noticing that all the surfaces gleamed. Only Sal could cook a three-course meal and still have a kitchen that looked as if it should be photographed for a catalog.

  “You know what he’s like,” Sal continued. “I mean, he said he’d be here by eight p.m., but only if nothing crops up at work. Frankly, your guess is as good as mine.”

  Kate grinned. Ed’s timekeeping was legendary—he’d even been late for his own stag do because there had been a deal going through and he hadn’t been able to get away from work. She noticed that Sal was frowning, deep lines embedded on her forehead that Kate had never noticed before. “Everything alright?” she offered, cursing as she nearly sliced off one of her fingers for the fifth time.

  “Me? God, fine. No, I’m just wondering why I
had to marry a financier, that’s all.”

  “Being a financier was on your list, remember?” Kate said with a smile. “You wanted someone who could cover a mortgage and school fees on his salary. Which basically means a financier or a pop star, and you also wanted someone dependable, which kind of ruled out Robbie Williams. …”

  “I suppose,” Sal conceded. “So come on, tell me about Joe. Where is he, by the way?”

  “I sent him to buy wine,” Kate said lightly, then turned to face Sal. “It’s amazing, actually. I mean, I don’t want to jinx it or anything, but I actually think he could be the one.”

  “The one? Seriously?”

  Kate smiled. “Maybe. We just get on so well. The sex is amazing. And we’ve got loads in common, too. Like, guess who he did an advert with this week? Who, incidentally, he hates now as much as I do.”

  “Um, I dunno, that girl off Big Brother?”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “Penny Pennington, of course.”

  “Really? Oh God. Poor him.”

  “I know. Apparently it was awful. But the point is, we’re in similar worlds, you know?”

  “So he’s got some work, too. That’s good,” Sal said.

  Kate shrugged. “Only an advert, but his agent is really excited about the interest in him. He’s just being really choosy, you know. To make sure he gets the right thing.”

  “That’s great,” Sal said sincerely. “Really great.”

  Kate gave a deep, happy sigh. “It is, isn’t it. It’s like we were meant to find each other, you know? I mean, I know Tom always takes the piss because he thinks I’m a hopeless romantic, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe all my waiting has paid off.”

  Sal raised her eyebrows. “God, you are serious.”

  “Maybe I am.” Kate grinned. “Tell me … when you met Ed, what was it like? I mean, how did you know he was the one?”

  Sal frowned. “He had a lovely face,” she said. “I remember looking at his face and thinking it was so open, so honest. And then we had a lovely evening—we were having dinner at a new restaurant. And we had lots to talk about, I remember that. We barely ate any of our food because we had so much to say. …”