“I HOPE YOU’RE NOT GOING to be much longer.” Connor’s voice calls out loudly as he stands at the bottom of my stairs with a dish towel in his hand. He looks all domesticated, which is laughable because he rarely does anything for himself.
“Nope,” I say, walking down the stairs toward him.
He lifts his head and his eyes follow me with a smile until I’m at the bottom and then he frowns. “Ella McGregor, when I saw you today at the airport, I knew you had lost weight, but fucking hell. The amount you’ve lost is ridiculous.” I glance down my body and I know he’s right. I wrap my arms protectively across myself in an attempt to hide from him. I should’ve worn something else besides this t-shirt and shorts. “While I’m here, I’m making it my job to fatten you up a bit and I’m starting now. I hope you’re hungry.”
“You know what? I am.”
“Glad to hear it.” He walks away smiling, and I follow him because whatever he’s cooked smells amazing. Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells. In the kitchen, Connor has been busy. I hope he plans on tidying up the mess he’s made. I swear he’s used every pot and dish I own. It’s really quite funny. Under normal circumstances, this mess would freak me out, but my bath has helped me relax, and for the first time in what seems like forever, I feel like the old me.
And not the one who was completely oblivious twelve weeks ago.
I’m pushing the niggling questions about Donovan to the back of my mind for the time being. Dad is right; I need to put myself first. “This all looks . . . amazing,” I say, taking a seat and trying to avoid looking at the mess.
“It tastes even better.” He opens the oven and, using the dish towel, takes out a bowl and brings it over to the table where there is already salad and garlic bread and a bottle of wine. He looks at home. Well, my house has been home to him these last few years. “Pasta bake with chicken, broccoli, onions, and mushrooms. Real comfort food, according to your dad.” I smile because it’s one of my favourite meals that Dad makes. Dad isn’t the best cook in the world but, then again, my mum was and she insisted on doing all the cooking. This dish is the one my dad likes to cook, and Mum always loved it too.
“If this tastes as good as it smells and looks, you can stay for as long as you want,” I say with a smile as he serves some onto my plate.
“About that . . .” He puts the spoon back in the bowl and cocks his head to the side. As he sits studying me, I notice the deep frown lines around his eyes that weren’t there earlier. The boyish grin he usually has isn’t there. He looks worried and deep in thought and I can take a guess what he’s thinking about.
“I know it’ll only be for a short time because when Donovan arrives in the country, you can go and stay with him wherever he stays.”
“Ella, right now I don’t want to see him because I’m so fucking mad with him, but I know my being here will be a constant reminder for you. So I can book into a hotel tomorrow.”
“You will do no such thing. It’ll be nice having a distraction, not spending all my time on my own. I swear, I’m questioning my sanity on a daily basis.”
“You shouldn’t be questioning anything, especially about you. He’s the one in the wrong. I want answers to all this crap that’s swimming around in my head, so I’ve no idea how you feel. He’s really fucked up and you’re not the only one who’ll need a new agent. I can’t work with someone I don’t trust or respect and, after what he’s done to you, I’ve lost all that. I might be losing a friend but you’re on the verge of losing so much more. I can’t believe he left you with nothing.”
“I know that,” I say with a touch of sadness in my voice. “Okay. For the rest of the night, neither of us is allowed to mention his name.” Because every time I think about him I realise being with Donovan has been the biggest mistake of my life and that breaks my heart. I’ve been so stupid. Wasted so much time.
“Deal. Food, wine, proposals and my company. What more could you possibly want?” he teases and I laugh. Connor has always been able to make me laugh and smile.
I shake my head; I’ve no reply to that. It’s strange sitting in my own kitchen eating food that someone else has cooked and it really is tasty.
“Mmm, this is good. Why have you never cooked for me before?”
“I wanted to, believe me.” He doesn’t need to say anything else. Donovan believes when it comes to cooking and cleaning, it should be a woman’s job, regardless of what else they do. He really does have old fashioned values. Why am I only realising this now? Because he’s not around to control my thoughts. I shake my head.
“I could get used to this.”
“Don’t get too used to it. My cooking skills are pretty limited, although I’m not too bad when it comes to cleaning, so the mess I’ve made, I’ll clean it up.” He knows me well enough to know that I’m a complete clean freak when it comes to my home.
“As long as the mess isn’t here in the morning, it will be good enough for me.”
“I can do that.” As I take a sip of the wine, I don’t doubt it. “We have lots to talk about, and I think I should organise a meeting with the casting director to talk over what they’re looking for.”
“I’ll read over your email before I decide to do that.”
“Agreed.”
“Now can you stop talking and just let me enjoy my food?” He nods. The rest of dinner is eaten in silence. Well, what I can manage. I’m not sure my body knows what’s going on. Two proper meals today; it’s not used to it.
“I thought you were enjoying it,” he says when I put my cutlery down.
“Sorry. Yes, it’s lovely, it’s just . . .”
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear it. You’ve eaten more than I thought you would. Right, go on through to your front room and take our wine glasses. I’ll grab my laptop and the rest of the wine.” He moves around the island and takes my hand, helping me to my feet. Always the gentleman. As the thought enters my head, I realise that’s the way he’s always been, and not just with me.
Connor Andrews has never had a bad word printed about him in any tabloids on either side of the Atlantic. His image is very clean cut; always has been. He’s never done drugs and I’ve never seen him pissed. Tipsy, yes, but never drunk. He’s dated a few women in the last few years, but claimed they were never anything serious.
There’s no big secret, no skeletons hiding in his closet waiting to make an appearance. What you see is what you get with him.
He was born up north, near Inverness, brought up on a farm with his parents. He’s worked hard throughout his life to achieve his dreams and his parents made sacrifices to put him through acting school.
“Go. I’ll at least put the dishes in the dishwasher.” I lift our glasses and wander through the house. It’s strange having him here and no Donovan. I expected it would be difficult or at least uncomfortable, but it’s not. I feel at ease. Putting the glasses down on the coffee table, I switch on the TV. I’ve not really bothered with it in weeks. I’ve tried to be blissfully unaware of what has been going on in the outside world. I start flicking through the channels, avoiding all the news and showbiz channels. There’s plenty of time for me to find out what’s happening in the showbiz scene and, at the moment, I’m not sure I’m ready to hear it all.
Small steps.
There’s not much on TV tonight. I hear Connor’s phone ringing and his footsteps walking through the hallway as he answers it. When he enters the room, he switches it to loudspeaker but raises a finger to his mouth, telling me to be quiet. He puts the bottle of wine down beside the glasses and his laptop that he had tucked under his arm.
“So you arrived safely?” Donovan asks. My heart races with anger and frustration hearing his voice for the first time in weeks. I want to scream and shout and I have to cover my mouth stopping me from venting weeks’ worth of frustration and anger.
“Yip, and on time.”
“How’s Ella?” He asks the question but doesn’t sound interested in hearing the answer.
I pause, hoping Connor doesn’t tell him what I know. “Well, if you would answer her calls you would know she’s been ill.” I sigh with relief. Connor stands in the middle of the room, eyes set on me. It’s not a lie he’s telling, he’s only withholding some of the truth.
“Oh!” Really? Is that all Donovan has to say?
“Yeah, she’s not been out of the house in weeks. Some virus. It’s really floored her. You should’ve been here to look after her, especially when Archie and Callum haven’t been in the country either.”
“I’ve been busy.” Yeah, right. Busy entertaining half of Hollywood, I’m sure. Or has it just been Katherine Hunter? I’m glad I asked the last question in my own head because I sound like a jealous bitch.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of her until you get here for my premiere. Hopefully she’ll be fit and well enough to attend with you.”
“About that. I won’t be in Scotland for your premiere. Something has come up.”
“What the actual fuck? You’re meant to be my friend and agent. You should be here. What’s so important that its keeping you in L.A?”
“I’m now representing Miss Hunter as well and she has a meeting I need to attend.”
“Donovan, I’ve just told you Ella has been really ill. She still is. Fucking hell. It looks as though she’s lost about a stone in weight and all you can say is you won’t be home because of Miss Hunter. I think you have your priorities all wrong. The Donovan I know would’ve been on the first available flight home to take care of his girl. What’s changed?” I can hear the anger in Connor’s voice as he paces the floor.
“I’m really busy with work. Completely snowed under.”
“Yeah, I know, and sorting out meetings for me and Ella in Glasgow should be your concern too, or have you forgotten about that?”
“No, I’ve not forgotten. There’s a few details I need to sort out for you both on this and then you can sign on the dotted line.”
Connor stands, shaking his head at me and mouths, ‘He’s a lying pig.’ I can’t argue with him on that. He’s been lying to me for months. “So when will you be here?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe the week after the premiere. It just depends on what happens over here.”
“Donovan, what will I say to Ella? She could do with your support.”
“Tell her whatever you like. She’ll understand.”
“Will she? Because I fucking don’t. I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to sort out your shit and get back home to look after your girlfriend.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Look, I need to go. I’ll give you a call in a few days.” Donovan ends the call.
“I swear to God, Ella. Please tell me there is no you and him any longer? Because I’m going to kill him. He must be on drugs. That’s the only explanation I have for his behaviour.”
“There’s no us. I couldn’t stay with him after all this, and as you said earlier, the trust has been broken. It was broken the day he left, leaving me with nothing. I’m just hoping my dad and Jonathon don’t dig up any more skeletons because I don’t want Dad bailing me out constantly because I was stupid.”
“Enough.” Connor rushes over and sits down beside me. “This is not your fault. He’s lied to you and deceived you and he has to pay the price.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, looking at him, scared of what I know he’s about to say. The one thing I’m unsure of doing.
“I mean you have to go public about what he’s done to you.”
And there it is.
“No, I can’t. I don’t want the world knowing this.”
“Ella, I get that, but if you do go public, it would destroy his career. He deserves to have everything taken away from him.”
“You might be right, but I’m hoping there’s another way to do it without involving me.”
“Maybe. Now, what are we going to watch?” He must sense my apprehension at our conversation as he changes the subject.
“Here.” I hand Connor the remote control. “I don’t care as long as it’s not a love story.”
“I’m sure I can find something.”
I top up our glasses and hand Connor his. I take mine and get comfortable on the couch. He flicks through the channels until he lands on an action movie. That’ll do for me. He kicks off his shoes as he’s done a million times before, making himself at home. I find myself staring at the man beside me. A man who has been a friend to me and continues to be one. There’s something different about Connor. Maybe it’s because I’ve heard the conversation with Donovan. I’m not going to think too much about it because, at the moment, I’m relaxed and I don’t want that to change.
I turn my attention back to the TV and take a drink. For someone who was meant to be putting Donovan Bell out of my head for tonight, I’m not doing very well. He seems to be everywhere I turn; pictures of the two of us together in this room. Silly things like ornaments he bought.
All this crap has to go.
I try to watch the movie but I’m feeling agitated and also a bit tipsy from the wine. Which isn’t a great surprise. I’ve not had alcohol in weeks. Add that to the small matter that I’ve not been eating properly. So, of course the alcohol was bound to hit me quicker than usual.
“What’s wrong?” Connor asks.
“I’m not really in the mood to watch this.”
“Do you want to see the proposal then?”
“Can we do that tomorrow? I think I’ll go to bed,” I say, standing, but the room spins. Bloody hell. I don’t even think I’ve had two full glasses of wine.
“Here. Take my arm,” says Connor, standing up.
“I don’t want your help.” I take a step away from him, but my body sways.
“You might not want it but you need it.”
“Whatever.”
We take the stairs slowly. I think Connor’s scared I’m going to fall back down. His arm is around my waist, gripping me tightly.
At the top, he stops and opens the first bedroom door. “I’m not sleeping in there,” I shout, pulling the door closed. Yes, it’s the master bedroom, but I’ve not spent a night in there since I found out about Donovan.
“Oh. So where are you sleeping?”
“At the back of the house. The last room.” He stares at me, puzzled. I know what he’s thinking; of all the bedrooms I can pick, I choose the smallest room in the house. “Okay.” We walk along the hallway until we reach the end. He opens the door and sighs. I don’t blame him. The room is cluttered with most of my things.
He releases me and I throw myself face down on the bed. I’m feeling tired and teary and I want to be alone. “Ella, are you okay?” he asks, his voice full of concern.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know anything anymore.” My tears fall onto the pillow and I shiver before I feel a blanket being wrapped around me and strong arms holding me.