on a table and headed for the exit. Steve stood mouth open, all the air whooshed out of his lungs as his world imploding. What had just happened? He glanced around; guests stared at him, whispering, pointing. Then mentally shaking himself back to reality – how long had he stood there, dumbfounded? – he hurried after Erica.
Her elegant shoes clicked along the polished walnut floor in the corridor, the party in full swing behind them.
“Wait, Erica!” Steve said, discarding his empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. “Can’t we even talk about this?” He grabbed her arm to stop her, turning him to face her. “We can fix this. I love you.” He reached to stroke her face.
“I don’t love you!” she snapped, pushing his hand away. Steve froze, shocked at her words. Her eyes glistened and her lips trembled before she spoke more calmly, “I’m sorry, Steve, it’s not what I want. I’ll get my PA to come pick up my belongings from yours tomorrow.” She’d never properly moved in, they’d each kept their own homes. She owned a property in Beverly Hills, and tomorrow, her assistant would remove all traces of Erica’s existence from his life out of his rented luxury apartment. He remained silent, unable to think straight. What words could he say to make this better? This couldn’t be happening. An hour ago he’d been blissfully happy, now his life had been shattered like broken glass. Thousands of tiny shards inside his chest.
She started walking again.
“What do you want?” he said, pacing beside her. “I thought I was everything to you. That’s what you told me.”
“That was then. Things have changed.”
“Tell me what I have to do to convince you, and I’ll do it, Erica.” Steve combed a hand through his hair, hating that he sounded desperate, but he was. “I love you. Only you.” Everything about her was beautiful. Her auburn hair fell onto her shoulders, framing her perfectly made-up face. Erica stopped and frowned. They were in a quiet corridor, with a door leading out to the back of the hotel. A doorman waited outside as if on guard.
Erica looked around, then at Steve, hesitant. “These past few months have been hard,” she said, lowering her voice. “You’ve been filming Nothing Happened. I’ve been half way across the world filming too. We’ve drifted apart, Steve.”
“We can make this work, I know we can,” Steve said, reaching to touch her hand, but she shifted her weight so he couldn’t.
“Steve, our schedules won’t gel.” Shaking her head, she pulled out her phone from her purse and made a quick call. “Yes, I’m round the back.” She hung up, but remained clutching her phone as she focussed on Steve again – he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “One of us would have to sacrifice our work. I’m not prepared to do that, and you’re not either.”
“How do you know? I’d give it up for you.”
“I don’t want you to give it up for me. You’re on the verge of being the hottest new star in Hollywood. You should be happy.”
“I am but I want to be happier – with you.” He couldn’t believe he’d never hold this woman again, never kiss or make love to her. The thought made him miserable. He couldn’t imagine life without Erica Kealey. How did he make her see they were perfect together?
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I never meant to hurt you.” Then, hesitantly, she gently kissed him on the cheek. The doorman pulled open the door, and Erica confidently sashayed out the back of the hotel to her awaiting limo. There were a few opportunist photographers, held back by some security. Like strobe lighting effects, camera flashes followed her. Steve watched her elegantly step into the limo, disappearing into its blackness. Tomorrow the whole world would know Erica Kealey had dumped Hollywood heart-throb Steve Mason.
As the limo drove off, the pressure building in Steve’s chest rose to his throat and his eyes stung. The last time he’d cried was at his mother’s funeral, and even then, he’d hidden his grief from prying eyes. In the privacy of his apartment, he could allow his emotions to show, but not here. He needed to return to the party.
How was he supposed to appear happy, when the woman he had planned to spend the rest of his life with had just walked out of it?
Sunday 6th October
Steve stretched and yawned. He was only half way through his eleven-hour flight to London. At least, travelling first class, he could sleep for some of it, but he never truly allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep. He had to keep his wits about him, especially as he’d left his bodyguards behind. The stewardess had come along and put a blanket over him and constantly checked he was comfortable.
Of course she would do, he was Steve Mason, after all.
Like all stewardesses, she wore perfect make-up and precision styled hair. She looked pretty, but he did wonder what she’d look like with the cosmetics removed. Yet it made the flight pleasant. He wasn’t going to complain when a pretty girl gave him attention. She had to be around her mid-twenties. Some of the flight attendants were older, but this particular stewardess was his, it seemed. All the other travellers could whistle; she only had eyes for him.
When he couldn’t snooze he put his nose in a book or watched the in-flight movies. His latest movie, Perfection was available but he skipped that one. How vain would it look to be watching your own movie?
However, a glimpse of Erica would have been nice.
He couldn’t believe how much he still missed her.
“Are you ready for some breakfast, Mr Mason?” the stewardess said, in her beautifully British accent, which was from somewhere around the London area.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, sounding very American. He adjusted his chair with the ever-helpful stewardess assisting. He checked her name badge. “Thank you, Suzie,” he said, giving her his best smile. He had been fortunately blessed with straight teeth.
“So is this trip for business or pleasure?” Suzie placed a breakfast tray in front of him. She was flirting, he knew that, the way she looked at him out the corner of her eye, the smile in her voice. He was used to women flirting with him, he preferred it to them reacting oddly, acting either incredibly shy, or throwing themselves at him, claiming they loved him and wanted to have his babies.
At least she hadn’t done that yet.
He used to get plenty of attention from the ladies before he was famous – now it was a given. He was up there with Robert Pattinson, having women’s underwear thrown at him.
“I’m going to see my sister.”
“You have a sister in London?”
“Not quite in London, no.” Maybe it was best not to give Ruby’s location away, he didn’t need the press chasing after him. The idea was to lay low for a bit. “But not far.”
“Well, I hope you brought your winter jacket, we’re having a cold October.”
“Yeah, I’ve packed my sweaters.” He winked, and she coyly smiled.
Suzie
