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The Mighty Storm

Page 9

   



I was wondering when she was going to mention that. Nothing slips by her. Ever the journalist.
“He did. Just a catch up.” I shuffle forward in my seat, getting ready to make an exit.
“I bet he’s after a thorough catch up with you.”
“Vicky!” I screech, then cover my mouth with my hand, releasing how loud that was. “I can’t believe you just said that,” I add in a quieter voice, peeling my hand off my mouth.
“What?” she laughs. “Look at you– you have a face and ass to die for. And him? Well, good grief. He’s so delicious I could serve him up on toast and eat him … and he is well known for his antics.”
“Yeah, well I’m not, and I do have a boyfriend remember?” I’m a little snippy, but it doesn’t seem to faze her.
“Yes, well we’re all as clean as whistles my darling until men like him come along and dirty us right up.”
She winks at me, grinning, relieving the tension I’m feeling.
“You’re incurable.” I shake my head humorously at her, rolling my eyes. “And I don’t see him that way.”
She presses her lips together and narrows her heavy lined eyes at me, suspiciously at me. “Yeah, sure you don’t.”
“And how did the lovely William take the news of dinner with Jake? You did tell him, didn’t you?” She raises her perfectly, plucked eyebrow. I sometime get the impression Vicky doesn’t like Will.
“Of course I did.” I sound defensive, I’ve no clue why.
“And?”
“Nothing. He was fine with it.” After a while.
She lets out a little laugh. “He was fine with you going out to dinner with the most beautiful, prolific womanising rock star in the world?”
I press my lips together and let out my breath through my nose. “He was fine with it, because there’s nothing in it. It’s just two old friends having dinner and nothing more.”
“If you say so my darling.” She brushes her hand through her hair.
“It is,” I chipper. “Now if you’re finished grilling me, I’m going to do the work you pay me to do. I’ll type up a draft of the interview and have it ready for you to look over by the end of the day.”
“That would be fabulous, thank you, my darling.” She leans back in her chair and brushes her hair off her face.
Giving her a light smile, I turn and sashay my way out of her office, away from her quizzical stare, because she’s a little closer to the truth on everything then I would care to admit. Jake, my reaction to seeing him after all these years, and Will’s reaction to the news that I’m seeing him tonight. But mostly, how I feel about seeing Jake tonight. And the only word I can think to describe it is … exhilarated.
Chapter Six
Okay. I’m having dinner with Jake.
Jake Wethers.
But he’s still just Jake … the same Jake I knew.
No he’s not – he’s now rock god Jake.
Oh crap.
I’ve been ready for the past half an hour and have been pacing around my flat ever since. I’ve had a large glass of wine already and am starting on my second, trying to calm my nerves.
And Simone’s not here to help either. She was so gutted when I told her Jake was coming to the flat to pick me up. She’s working late on a project for this new client of hers and couldn’t get out of it.
Maybe it’s best she’s not here, I’m freaking out as it is. Simone is a big Mighty Storm fan, so she’d be freaking too, making me worse.
What on earth am I going to talk to him about tonight?
I know, I’ve known Jake a long time, but I knew him back then. Not now.
Now he’s a mega rich superstar. And I’m just a lowly journalist working for a small, up and coming magazine, with enough money to pay the bills and fill the cupboard with enough food and wine to get me through the week.
He probably earns in an hour what I do in a year.
I’ve stayed in exactly the same place and Jake has sky rocketed to the stars.
We live in two very different worlds. I don’t know anything about his life now, except what I’ve read in the papers.
I wonder if he still likes the same things he did when I knew him?
Of course he doesn’t. Do I still like the same things I did when I was fourteen? Nope. Well, except for kids cereal. Coco Pops are awesome.
I’m just wondering once the step back in time has dried up, what on earth will we talk about. We are so worlds apart now. Our childhood aside, what else is there?
I’m just hoping the childhood stories will somehow stretch us through the night.
I gulp down another mouthful of wine.
The doorbell rings. It’s a minute after eight. If nothing else, he’s punctual. And here was me expecting him to be rock star late.
Putting my glass down, I pick my handbag up, get my keys and wobble on nervous legs to the door.
When I open it, he’s standing there looking all kinds of gorgeous, wearing dark blue fitted jeans, Converses trainers and a pale blue shirt which is rolled up at the sleeves, top buttons open, his tattoos on show.
And once again, I suddenly feel totally of out of my depth.
“Hi,” I say.
“Wow. You look great.”
I flush. “Thanks, you too.”
I’m doing a little mini-dance inside.
This dress was totally worth it – okay, so I might have popped to my favourite clothes shop, Dixies, after work and bought the dress I’ve been eyeing in the window for the last few weeks. The dress I couldn’t really afford at the moment – so, thank you Visa.
It’s not to impress Jake or anything, I mean it’s not like we’re going on a date, but he’s rich and I wanted to look nice. And the dress is so damn cute.
It’s a black shift dress with silver embellishment all over it, and so totally me. I’ve teamed it with my black heels, and silver clutch bag, and I left my hair down and curly, and kept my make-up minimal, how I always wear it.
I step through the door, deciding against inviting him in for a drink. He probably lives in a mansion. I don’t want him looking around my tiny flat.
I lock up and follow him down the path.
“Nice place.” He nods back at the house that hosts my flat.
“Thanks … wow, is this yours?” I ask as he approaches a silver Aston Martin DBS.
He grins and unlocks it with the key fob. “Loaner, but I do have one back home.”
Loaner? I’d be lucky if I’d be able to loan a scooter.
And once again, I’m reminded of how very different our lives are.
“Isn’t this James Bonds car?” I ask, as I slide into the supple leather seat, putting my seatbelt on.
“Well, not this specific one, no – but I have driven his.”
I slide him a look. “Show off,” I smile.
“Oh, you have no idea.” He winks at me, leaving my stomach to free-fall off into the next galaxy.
We pull away, roaring off down my small street, in his very flashy car.
“So where are we going?” I ask, still trying to recover myself from his earlier comment.
“It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise?” I turn to look at him.
He slides me a look, a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah a surprise, you remember those – they usually happen on birthdays, that kind of thing.”
“But it’s not my birthday.”
“Yeah, well I’ve missed twelve of them, so I’ve got quite a few surprises to make up for.”
I really don’t know what to say to that, so for once, I keep quiet.
I look out of the window and notice a black Land Rover that is driving pretty close to the back of the car.
Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at the car. It’s tinted and I can’t see in the window. I hope it’s not paparazzi following him. Don’t they usually drive big smog chuggers like that?
“That car’s pretty close behind,” I say, tilting my head back in its direction, trying to alert him.
Jake’s eyes flick to his rear-view and then back to me.
“It’s Dave, my security guy.”
“Oh. Does he go everywhere with you?”
“Yeah … well everywhere, except the bathroom.” He slides his grinning eyes in my direction.
“Why is he riding back there and not in the car with us.”
“Because I wanted to be alone with you.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
My nerves have instantly gone haywire. I could really do with another glass of wine.
Actually, I feel the need to drink every time he looks at me. I have a feeling I’m going to get very drunk tonight.
I look out of the window again, watching the buildings of London, thinking how surreal this is. Last night I was out getting drunk in Mandarin’s with Simone, ragged nerves over interviewing Jake, wondering if he would remember me, and now I’m here in his fancy James Bond car, and he’s driving me to my surprise night out.
Jake Wethers, my old best friend, one-time love of my life, biggest rock star and most sought after man in the world, and he is sitting inches away from me. I could reach my hand out and touch him.
I won’t though, cause that would be pretty weird.
Actually, things don’t get much weirder than this.
We’re in Convent Garden when Jake pulls the car up and parks it on the main road just outside a Pizza Hut. His security guy pulls up behind.
“I don’t think you can park here,” I say looking around at the no parking signs
“Don’t worry, come on.” He climbs out of the car. I guess when you’re him you can do whatever you want.
I climb out of the car and notice there’s a guy standing outside the entrance to the Pizza Hut staring at us. My first thought is he must recognise Jake, but then I realise it’s Stuart, Jake’s PA.
“Hey,” Jake says to him. “All ready?”
“Yep.” Stuart nods.
Jake tosses the car keys to him. “I’ll call you when we’re done.”
“No worries, have a good night … hello again, Trudy,” Stuart says as he walks past us.
“Hi,” I say, offering him a smile.
Stuart hops in the James Bond car and promptly drives away.
“Come on,” Jake says, taking hold of my hand.
My skin tingles at his touch again. He’s so much more tactile than he used to be, I notice.
He walks me to the entrance of the Pizza Hut.
I stop and look up at the sign, then back to Jake.
“We’re going to Pizza Hut?” I grin.
He remembers.
That was what he meant in the car with the comment about my birthdays.
Every birthday we would come here, it was kind of a tradition with us – and who doesn’t love Pizza Hut, right?
I can’t believe he remembers. I feel all warm and squishy inside, and also a little overdressed.
He smiles back at me, it reaches all the way to his beautiful blue eyes. “Like I said, I’ve got twelve birthdays to make up for. I know it’s not the one we used to go to in Manchester, but I figured you wouldn’t want to drive all the way up there, so this was the next best thing. After you ...” he gestures for me to pass him.