She did it again, drawing out the word in an American accent. A poor American accent, Steve might add.
“I don’t sound like that.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“It’s not funny, Ruby.” He looked at her sternly, giving her the ‘big brother hating being teased by his little sister’ glare.
“I’m sorry, but you sound all American,” she reverted to her Bristol tone, laughing. She nudged him. “So how long can you stay in the UK?”
“Three months – max! I’ve got three months to find the woman of my dreams, then I’m back to Hollywood.”
“Make the most of tonight.” She chinked her glass of orange juice against his tumbler of scotch. “It’s your last night as a Hollywood hunk.”
Steve cupped Erica’s face, his thumb gently rubbing her cheek. Out the corner of his eye, he could see on the horizon the dust rising into the sky. Flores and his men were coming. He shoved the car into drive, and was about to kiss those perfect, ripe lips, when his phone started ringing.
He didn’t have his phone – did he? That wasn’t in the script.
The image of Erica disappeared as he fumbled for his phone on the bedside cabinet.
“Hello,” he said gruffly, his voice not quite woken up.
“Right, I’m coming to get you. I’ve been thinking about this all night. The longer you stay there, the quicker you’ll get found out. And once the press find you, then we can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?”
“You know! But you can’t stay in the hotel. Someone is bound to blab.”
“Ruby, what time is it?” Steve rubbed his eyes. He was semi-aroused, dreaming of Erica. Luckily, he softened with reality, and his sister’s voice.
“It’s seven a.m. Not that early. I’ve managed to get the day off work, so make the most of it. Get dressed, and get packed, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
She’d hung up before he could argue. Last night, Ruby had left him full of ideas on how he could become normal, and he’d gone to bed, nicely warmed by the scotch inside him, wondering whether he would actually find the woman of his dreams while here in the UK. He’d told Ruby he could stay for three months – maximum. He’d have to return sometime in January. The Oscars were in February – he’d have to be back for those, and then the filming for his new movie would start after. However, his agent, Karl, still expected him back in LA in two weeks’ time…Steve would worry about that later. He’d make sure Marie cleared his diary.
This meant he had until the end of January to find the perfect woman.
But he didn’t want perfect. ‘Perfect’ he could pick up in Hollywood tomorrow. He wanted someone who didn’t have to look immaculate every time she stepped out of her front door, didn’t need to worry about image – at least no more than the next woman did. Erica had been perfect, and look what had happened there. Every day she’d worried about her dress size and what she ate, following a special diet. Dinner in a restaurant had been hard work at times. No, he wanted to find someone ordinary, normal, who he could settle down with. Someone he could love, and who would love him back.
Steve wanted all the things his mum and dad had had. He wasn’t looking at this with rose tinted glasses either. He remembered their arguments, the tough times, more than Ruby would, but they’d always come out the other side, still in love. Dad coming home with flowers to apologise, Mum baking Dad’s favourite lemon drizzle cake. He had fond memories of his mother standing at the sink doing the washing up, soap suds to her elbows and Dad surprising her from behind, kissing and hugging her.
He jumped out of bed and slipped on his clothes. The scruffier he looked, the better. He’d grab a shower at Ruby’s. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and combing a hand through his hair, he looked in the mirror and decided he’d do. Luckily, he hadn’t unpacked much, so he was ready by the time Ruby knocked on his door.
Steve checked out quickly and as discreetly as possible, and was soon dragging his case behind him, out into the grey British rain, towards Ruby’s waiting car. Somehow, after Ruby had thrown some carrier bags of shopping (new shoes and clothes) into the back seats, his luggage fitted into the small trunk – thank heavens he’d packed light.
With the two of them in the car, the front screen misted up quickly. Ruby switched on the blowers and eventually they blew out warm air. Thanks to the typical British weather, he hadn’t seen the sun once since landing at Heathrow. He squashed the thought of missing the LA warmth quickly. This is what he wanted; to come home. He’d just forgotten how miserable the weather could be, he thought, tousling his hair to remove the rainwater. Used to the leg space in limousines, Steve sat cramped in Ruby’s little car – he could almost touch his ears with his knees.
Okay, note to self; for her next birthday buy Ruby a bigger car.
“So, where am I going to stay, if I can’t stay in a hotel?” Steve said, as he adjusted the car seat for some leg room. Instead, the chair tilted, throwing him back. Cursing under his breath, while Ruby giggled, he up-righted himself and worked out the seat eventually.
“You can stay with me.”
He looked at her, surprised, his eyebrows raised.
“Don’t look at me like that. I could change my mind,” Ruby said, taking her eyes off the road for a second.
“I thought maybe I could stay at your hotel.”
Ruby shook her head. “No, it’s too small, we’ll need the rooms. I’m taking a big risk as it is, and I don’t want the staff questioning it. I’ve got a spare room, so you can crash there. It’ll be the safest place for you.”
“Can I shower there, too? You didn’t exactly give me time.”
“Sure, we’ll drop your stuff off, have some breakfast then head for the Mall at Cribbs Causeway – it’s got everything under one roof, even hairdressers.”
Steve really didn’t like how she kept mentioning hairdressers.
She grinned, stunning Steve by how much she reminded him of their mother. The last time he’d seen Ruby, she’d had mousy long hair. Now, it was cut short with hints of gold and blonde flattering her face and showing off her delicate ears and slender neck. His sister had turned into a woman, a very pretty one – if he looked at her objectively – and he’d never really seen the transformation. His mother had regularly sent updates, photos, but those had stopped when she’d died, and even they were nothing like seeing the real thing.
With eight years between them, he’d always been Ruby’s really big brother. She’d been only twelve when he’d left home to find fame and stardom. A slight, skinny girl. Now, she had womanly curves, confidence, and a cheeky sense of humour – God, he was going to find it hard to meet her boyfriend and not give him the third degree. She didn’t talk to Steve like she was on
