what type of girl are you looking for?”
“I don’t know.” Steve shrugged, leaning on the table. “Someone I can take to a restaurant who doesn’t have to order salad so she can stay a size zero.” Steve quickly held up his hands defensively as Ruby stared, reproachful. “Sorry, I don’t mean it like that. Don’t get me wrong, I know that actresses work hard and it’s a major pressure for them. I have that pressure too, but nowhere near the same level. I suppose, what I’m trying to say is, I want to find someone who doesn’t have to worry about appearing ‘perfect’.”
“Okay, fair point.” Ruby nodded. Strict diets and no chocolate for life were not her idea of fun, she thought as she eyed the scrumptious chocolate fudge cake at the counter. And the size of the door-stop sandwiches heading towards them were not for the strict dieters either. Imagine the carbs.
The waitress placed the sandwiches in front of them, with salad and a pile of crisps on the side.
Steve smiled his thanks at her, then when she’d gone continued the conversation with Ruby, “I want a woman I can laugh with, too. A good hearty giggle. About silly stuff.”
“A woman with curves, and a good sense of humour,” Ruby said aloud, as well as making mental notes.
“Of course.”
“How fussy are you? Does she have to be pretty? Because you’re not going to find that many gorgeous girls to sweep you off your feet in Bristol,” Ruby joked. “Yes, there are plenty of attractive women, but we can’t all afford to have impeccable beauty treatments.”
Steve shook his head. “I know. There are immaculately groomed women lining the streets of LA but none are suitable.” He sighed. “There has to be an attraction, obviously, but I want someone I can…love, and who’ll love me. And maybe start a family.”
“Can’t make you any promises, Bro, but we’ll try. When there is a time limit, too, it makes things trickier.”
“I know.”
“There’s no guarantee this will work.”
“It had better work! You made me cut my hair, ditch my designer clothes, and made me wear glasses,” he said, narrowing his eyes. The corners of his mouth curved to a smile and Ruby chuckled.
God, she hoped this worked.
***
“I’ll be home soon,” Ruby said to him, keeping the car running, as he unloaded bags from the trunk – Ruby had corrected him with ‘boot’. “I want to pop into work to see what I can sort out.”
Steve, feeling weary from traipsing around the shops, but happy about the time spent with Ruby, carried the shopping bags upstairs. There was little point emptying his case now; he hung up his newly bought wardrobe instead. Ruby wouldn’t allow him to wear his old clothes, anyway.
Considering Steve hadn’t seen Ruby since their mother’s funeral, over a year ago, he was pleased they were getting along. At the funeral, he would have liked to have stayed for longer, but his work schedule had been tight, and he’d had to leave Ruby to grieve on her own. Thankfully, the press had stayed away and honoured his family’s privacy.
He’d grieved on his own. Maybe that’s why he’d fallen so hard for Erica, his emotions so bare and raw. Neither Steve nor Ruby had really mentioned their mum today. Maybe they were too scared to bring to the surface the emotions it might evoke. Fifteen years had put distance between Steve and his family, yet he would never forget his mother. She’d been the one insisting he followed his dream, supporting him through thick and thin. Unfortunately, when the time came and he could truly repay her, she was gone.
So he would do all that he could to help Ruby.
He raked his hands over his face, then headed back down to the kitchen. He stared into one of the overhead cupboards and spied, sitting on the top shelf at the back, a cafetière gathering dust. Unfortunately, after checking the rest of the cupboards, he couldn’t find any ground coffee. He could take a quick trip down to the shop, he’d seen one on the corner. It wouldn’t harm.
He grabbed the key and strolled down the hill. Ten minutes later, he was meandering around the shop with a basket, picking up essentials, which included a bag of ground coffee. He preferred to buy fresh beans and grind his own coffee, for ultimate taste, however he wasn’t sure whether Ruby had a grinder or not. Trawling the aisles had a certain normality to it that Steve hadn’t enjoyed in a while. Usually someone did this stuff for him, delivered his groceries – he had a team of people doing his day to day tasks. He hated the word, but yes, he had an entourage. But today, going around this small shop didn’t feel menial. It felt great, liberating.
Freedom.
Like the good old days.
Near the checkout stood the newsstand. Anxiety slowly crept up his back, but deciding it was best to keep up with the news, he selected a couple of newspapers and a glossy magazine that followed the ins and outs of A-listers. He’d need to keep an eye on this. One whiff that he was near Bristol and he’d need to tell Marie to make sure his double was seen holidaying somewhere hot and far away from here.
The middle-aged woman in her smart, blue uniform didn’t bat an eyelid, too busy scanning the items in his basket and shoving them into a carrier bag. She only looked him in the eye when she asked for his money. Maybe she didn’t follow the world’s top ten sexiest men – Steve was voted tenth last month. But it was a good thing she didn’t, Steve quickly remembered, irritated that he’d felt a moment of disappointment that she hadn’t recognised him. When had he got so cocky? Confidence was more attractive than cockiness.
He didn’t want to get recognised. It would give him more chance of finding someone.
Steve strolled towards Ruby’s house, her car still not on the driveway. Her neighbour’s front door opened and an elderly lady slowly emerged, smartly dressed as though off to church. She wore a hearing aid over one ear and used a wooden stick.
“Oh, hello,” she said, cheerfully beaming at Steve. “Has our Ruby got herself a young man at last?”
Steve laughed and shook his head, approaching the woman. “No, no, I’m her brother.” He put his shopping down and held out his palm to shake hands with the woman.
“Ruby never said she had a brother. Well, well, what a handsome young man.” The woman took his hand with her frail fingers and patted it, rather than shake it. “It’s good she’s got company. I’m Daphne. I’ll see you again then?”
“Yes, I’m staying for a while.” Steve hesitated, unsure whether to give his own name or not. They hadn’t agreed on an identity. A name. He’d probably have to use a different one.
Daphne wandered off down the road, very slowly, and Steve let himself into the house. He flicked the kettle switch again, and it wasn’t long before he was sitting at the dining room table with a decent mug of coffee, thumbing through the papers.
No mentions of him being anywhere near Bristol. Though, to be honest, today must be a good day. There were no mentions of him at all. This was British press though. He’d check with Marie what the Americans were saying, too.
***
Ruby had entered the hotel by the back doors and
