Among a Thousand Stars

by Jo Bartlett

  ‘What?’ He grinned again. ‘You’ve got to admit it was funny. Zac looked a right dick in that outfit, setting it alight was the only decent thing to do.’

  ‘I thought you liked a man in lycra hotpants?’ Zac’s had been alarmingly tight, leaving nothing to the imagination, although she suspected that there had been some padding added. Either that or he had more than the usual number of testicles.

  ‘Not when he’s got a bouffant to match my Nan’s.’ He grimaced. ‘Nope, if I were a woman, I definitely wouldn’t be in the queue to audition as his next fiancée.’

  ****

  ‘Will you stop whining?’ Tom drummed his fingers on Dr Hussani’s desk, as they waited for him to come back into the consultation room.

  ‘Whining? He’s just said I need surgery!’ Zac was indignant and anyone would have thought the doctor had suggested an amputation rather than a minor op to help reduce the potential of scarring.

  ‘He said you can have surgery if you want to speed up the healing process and remove some of the burnt skin, rather than just waiting for nature to take its course.’ Tom couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice, if Zac had been an NHS patient he’d have been sent home with a dressing and some aspirin at the most. ‘Stop being a baby.’

  ‘Is this how you speak to all of your clients?’ He clearly wasn’t going to be talked down from his moment of drama. ‘If you’re not careful, you’ll only have Z-listers left.’

  ‘Yeah and maybe they’ll be grateful for the representation and give me less trouble.’ Tom sighed. There was a copy of Glitz on the coffee table in Dr Hussani’s office, with one of the photos that Ashleigh had taken of Chloe on its front cover. He couldn’t stop thinking about her and the reminders that seemed to be everywhere weren’t helping. He’d wanted to find a store cupboard at the restaurant or a cloakroom at Carly’s and just bundle her into it, there and then. Only it seemed everything was against them.

  ‘Don’t be like that, you know you love me really.’ There was a note of desperation in Zac’s voice, as though he really needed Tom’s reassurance that he’d be there for him. ‘You will wait for me, if I have to have the op won’t you?’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ Tom grinned, sensing an opportunity to get his own back. ‘But if you make any more fuss, the first person you’ll see waiting at your bedside when you come round will be Francine.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  The week between the hen night and the wedding passed in a blur. Ashleigh had been commissioned to take the pre-wedding shots of the bridal party at the hotel in their four day stay as part of the lead up to the big event itself. If a bride was ever buffed, puffed and waxed to the extreme, it had to be Carly. She’d tried out a number of hairstyles during her stay and had finally opted, with Stevie’s input, for an up-do of tumbling curls, which stopped at just the point where her undeniably magnificent cleavage started. She did look stunning, if very slightly on the edge of Big Fat Gypsy Wedding styling.

  Ashleigh and Stevie, whose budget didn’t stretch to the minimum four hundred and fifty pounds per night price tag of the Brewley Manor Castle Hotel, the predictably lavish venue for the wedding, had spent the past four nights staying in a cosy bed and breakfast just down the road. They’d decided that their original plan of undertaking the two-hour drive back to Sandgate every night was pointless and probably more expensive, so they’d taken the train and booked into the homely B&B instead. As good friends of Carly’s, she hadn’t wanted them to be working on the big day and so another photographer from Glitz would have that responsibility. On the morning of the wedding they woke up to a delicious full English breakfast.

  ‘Oh my God, these are the best sausages I’ve ever tasted.’ Stevie leant back in his chair and groaned with pleasure, as he savoured the last mouthful of his breakfast.

  ‘Shut up!’ Ashleigh tried hard to suppress a grin. ‘You sound like you’re having an orgasm! If you ask me, it’s about time you found yourself a new man.’

  ‘You can talk. For what it’s worth, I’m yet to meet a man who I’ve found more tempting than a good breakfast’ He tugged at his waistband. ‘Anyway, if I keep on consuming the amount of calories I have been for the past few days, not only will I not be able to attract a boyfriend, they’ll have to take a wall down to get me out of here. By the time I’ve eaten myself to the other side of Christmas, I’ll need to employ someone in the New Year to rub cream into my folds of flab!’

  ‘Um, you probably should worry.’ This time she couldn’t suppress the grin, given the look of incredulity on Stevie’s face. ‘If you’re not careful, you might move up to a thirty inch waist.’

  ‘Oh well, maybe it’s inevitable, after all I’m about to hit thirty, so that’s an inch for each year, not too bad.’ Stevie obviously hadn’t quite thought through the logic in the longer term.

  ‘Okay, well let’s see how you feel when you hit fifty and have a waist size to match!’ Ashleigh laughed, but he was already reaching for another piece of toast.

  ‘Oh whatever. Live fast, die young and all that.’ Stevie really was living life in the fast lane, slathering his toast with butter and a thick layer of homemade blackcurrant preserve. ‘So, are you finally going to let Tom into your knickers this weekend?’

  ‘Wow! I know now why we’re such good friends, it must be the subtle nuances of our conversations.’ That dreaded blush was sweeping up her neck. She wasn’t about to tell him about the hasty trip to Agent Provocateur. Not wanting to tempt fate, she’d nearly just packed her usual extra support bras and the comfortable pants that helped to hold in her stomach. At the last minute she’d changed her mind though. Susie-Anne was probably the type of girl whose modesty, such as it was, would be covered either by just a layer of spray tan or perhaps two or three strips of strategically placed and ludicrously expensive satin and lace. The sight of Ashleigh in her slightly greying underwear, with skin that hadn’t seen the sun for months, was unlikely to set Tom’s ardour alight. Of course, a get together might not even be on his agenda, but the series of texts following Carly’s hen night had suggested otherwise. They had gone from casual to sounding like they had a definite plan:

  * From Tom

  No lasting damage for Zac, although he moaned like a mule the whole time he was at the clinic. See you at the wedding, if not before.

  * From Ashleigh

  Glad to hear he was okay. Keep him away from YouTube or he might have a relapse – video was at nearly a million hits last time I looked! Looking forward to catching up.

  There had been a few more chatty texts and she’d read each of her responses about fifteen times before replying. Should she add a kiss at the end or would he take that the wrong way? In the end, it was Tom who moved the conversation on:

  * From Tom

  Just to let you know, I’m staying at Brewley Manor on the night of the wedding.

  * From Ashleigh

  Lucky you! It’s a budget B&B for me and Stevie… Time for a pay rise? ;)

  As soon as she’d pressed send, she’d started to panic – what if he was annoyed about the mention of their salary or just decided she was an imbecile for putting an emoticon on her text message? An hour or so of hell had passed before his response.

  * From Tom

  Seems a shame for you to leave the hotel before the real fun starts.

  * From Ashleigh

  Are you planning on a pillow fight?

  * From Tom

  Whatever floats your boat. So, is it a date?

  * From Ashleigh

  Sounds like it :)

  In the end she’d risked another emoticon, it was safer than a kiss and it seemed, unless she’d totally misread things, that Stevie’s prediction was spot on.

  ‘Oh my God, you’re going for it, aren’t you?’ Stevie knew her too well and, even without the tell-tale blush, she might as well have been wearing a T-Shirt annou
ncing her intentions.

  ‘I’d like to spend some time with him, yeah.’ There were proper butterflies in her stomach when she thought about it and it had been years since she’d felt that way. Maybe not since her first time, with Spencer, the sixth form rugby captain heartthrob, had she felt quite such anticipation. She only hoped that it would do more to live up to her expectations than that first time had, when she’d been left wondering if that was it, that was sex and what all the fuss was about.

  ‘I thought so!’ Stevie had that glint in his eye, which he always got when he’d somehow got one over on her. ‘After all, I did wonder why Janice popped into our room this morning, to confirm the availability of the best room for your extra guest tonight!’

  ‘Apparently she’s not the soul of discretion I was hoping for.’ The texts had hinted that Tom was planning on inviting Ashleigh to his suite at the hotel, but she knew from experience that they’d need to be discreet if they ever were going to get it together and Janice’s B&B had seemed like a much better option. Although now, she was beginning to wonder.

  ‘If it’s any comfort, it’s been bloody obvious anyway, the way your mobile phone’s been buzzing day and night.’

  ‘Okay, so we like each other. There’s no crime in that, is there?’ After all, it was only one night, just to settle these feelings and get past them once and for all. How involved could you get?

  ‘Nope, no crime at all. It’s great to see you having some fun for once and I have a sneaky feeling you’ll have even more to smile about by this time tomorrow!’ Stevie laughed far too loudly and she flicked him with her napkin. The middle-aged couple from the neighbouring table walked towards them and Ashleigh was sure they were going to complain about the noise she and Stevie had been making

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.’ The man addressed Ashleigh and she instantly felt the heat rising up her neck again.

  ‘Sorry, we didn’t mean…’ As she started to apologise he cut her off.

  ‘Don’t apologise, my wife and I just wanted to give you our card, in case you were interested. You and your husband,’ He gestured towards Stevie as he spoke, ‘seem like just the open minded types we like.’ Sliding a card across the tablecloth, he took his wife’s arm and headed out of the restaurant.

  Ashleigh turned over the card, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

  ‘What is it?’ Stevie whipped it out of her hand. ‘Sussex Swingers’ Nights?’ He started laughing again.

  ‘Not sure I’m tempted, but if it goes horribly wrong with Tom, at least I’ve got options!’

  ****

  ‘Are you nervous?’ Carly shook her head vigorously in response to Tom’s question. She was glowing and it wasn’t just down to the fake tan.

  ‘No, I can’t wait. I just needed to have five minutes away from everyone to get my head around the fact that in less than a few hours I’m actually going to be Duane’s wife.’ She couldn’t stop smiling or fiddling with her hair.

  ‘I can leave you to it then, if you want?’ Tom had been Carly’s agent for most of her career and he’d always been fond of her through all of it. She had that likeable quality that some celebrities seemed to lack.

  ‘No, it’s good to see you.’ She gestured for him to join her on the tapestry love seat beneath the window in her room, where the sun shone in highlighting the bubbles in her champagne. ‘Do you want a drink?’

  ‘I’m okay, thanks.’ He sat down beside her. ‘It’s not too late to call it off you know, run away.’

  ‘What, with you?’ Carly laughed, but there was no trace of bitterness. ‘That moment passed a few years ago, but you know I would have done.’

  ‘You mean all this could have been mine?’ He squeezed her hand. He had good memories of the summer they’d had together and they’d stayed friends since. Even though Carly had clearly wanted more at the time, she’d accepted that Tom wasn’t in it for the long haul and Duane had come along soon after. Carly and Duane were undoubtedly made for one another and, if Tom had believed in it, he might even call it love. ‘Duane’s a lucky man. I just thought I should give you the opportunity to run like hell if you wanted to. My grandfather said the same thing to my mother, but she went through with the wedding. I think it was something she regretted for years.’ Tom knew that it was only his arrival that had allowed his mother to live with her decision. It was a memory she’d shared, something else that coloured his concept of marriage; but this was Carly’s day.

  ‘Thanks, Tom, it means a lot, but I really do love Duane you know.’ She took a swig of champagne and looked at him. ‘And you can’t tell me it doesn’t exist on a day like today, it’s against the law.’

  ‘Okay, I won’t, not today anyway.’ It was as far as Tom was prepared to go. ‘Happy?’

  ‘I am.’ She leant across and kissed him. ‘Now get your ugly mug out of here, I’ve got a wedding to get to!’

  ****

  ‘Looks like a mafia reunion.’ Stevie wound the window of the cab down slightly as it made its way up the long sweeping driveway of the Brewley Manor Castle Hotel. The security in place to protect Glitz’s exclusive magazine deal was worthy of that surrounding a president or a high-risk secure unit. Even Stevie and Ashleigh, who had worked with most of the security team for years, weren’t ushered in without undergoing a check that was only one step away from a full body search.

  ‘Can’t be too careful love, sorry!’ Shaun, the head of security gave Ashleigh a friendly wink as he rummaged through her handbag. His gruff Yorkshire accent and twenty inch neck circumference gave people the right impression. He needed to get the job done, but she knew he was a teddy bear really. ‘Spare knickers eh love, what’s that all about?’ Shaun twirled round the itsy bitsy piece of fabric and lace, like the world’s least attractive burlesque dancer, finishing his act with a flourish.

  ‘She’s a girl scout, always prepared.’ Stevie stepped in just as the blush started creeping up her neck, realising she’d never manage to say something coherent put on the spot like that. ‘Now, come on, equal opportunities and all that, I suppose you want to check my undies?’ Stevie tugged at the waistband of his trousers, revealing the top of his very conservative boxer shorts.

  ‘Nah you’re alright mate, go on, go through, there’s only twenty minutes ‘til it all kicks off.’ Shaun waved them in with a gesture of his short stubby thumb and Ashleigh sighed with relief.

  ‘Thanks.’ She squeezed Stevie’s arm. ‘Christ, he probably thinks I’m incontinent, but at least I didn’t blurt out that I needed clean pants just in case I get an offer I can’t refuse. I’m just glad he didn’t find the toothbrush in the inside pocket.’

  ‘You’d never make a spy, honey, or a thief. Guilt was written all over your face.’ Stevie put his arm through hers ‘But your innocence is one of the many things I love about you, so don’t ever change’.

  ‘Well, if things get messy, I might want to find another career, so I’ll bear that advice in mind.’

  They kept their arms linked as they rounded the corner of the manor house, the west wing of which was the original castle keep, complete with battlements and the later cosmetic addition of a Rapunzel style turret. It was completely over the top. Disney come to life and so ‘Carly’, it could have been built for her. Behind the main house was the chapel where the wedding would be held into which groups of guests were slowly drifting – some of them apparently reluctant to give up the frantic networking and flirting that made these kinds of events worthwhile, despite the biting December wind.

  Ashleigh was conscious that her dress, which represented about a month’s salary if she ruined it, and which had been borrowed from up and coming designer Samuel Horcross, was quite vulnerable amongst the moss clad walls of the manor house and chapel. It was camel coloured suede and clung to every curve of her figure as if it had been designed just for her. She felt good, tha
nk God. She needed all the confidence she could get.

  ‘Whoa!’ Zac was standing in the doorway of the chapel, wearing a white suit and turquoise shirt and was looking surprisingly good, in a 1980s Miami Vice flashback kind of way. ‘Don’t I wish my girlfriend was hot like you!’ He wrapped his arms around Ashleigh and planted a kiss on her lips. She pulled back and shook her head, to remind him of their agreement that he wouldn’t overstep the mark. ‘Sorry, I know, I know, I can look but not touch. Although you really do look great.’

  ‘Not looking so bad yourself.’ Ashleigh smiled, relieved that he didn’t seem to be too offended by her gentle rejection.

  ‘Yeah, you look hot.’ Stevie drawled sarcastically, looking Zac up and down. ‘Almost like you’re on fire.’

  ‘Piss off.’ Zac didn’t smile. He hadn’t seen the humour of the cake incident on the night of Carly’s hen party and he clearly still wasn’t ready to see the funny side just yet.

  ‘Come on boys, no fighting. It’s Carly’s wedding and it’s nearly Christmas, the season of goodwill to all men. Let’s go and sit together.’ She couldn’t help smiling, if she didn’t know better she would have sworn they’d been on the phone to one another that morning. ‘After all you do look well coordinated!’ Stevie was wearing a turquoise suit, with an off white linen shirt.

  ‘As long as you sit between us.’ Zac pinched her bum and she struggled not to squeal. He had the vice like grip of someone who had spent years clutching either a microphone or a bottle of whiskey and had developed an eye-watering ability to pinch, and pinch hard, as a result. Her reminder that she wasn’t interested in him obviously hadn’t been entirely successful.

  There were only minutes left to go until Carly was due to arrive and some of the burly security guards assigned by Glitz and Rushworth Associates were heading over to the chapel with large screens to protect the bridal party from the two helicopters which were buzzing overhead; circling like wasps around a jam jar, in the hope of capturing just one photo and making their fortune in the process.