Teresa Morgan - One Fine Day

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Just a boy standing in front of a girl…Actor Steve Mason has it all … gorgeous looks, the perfect starlet girlfriend hanging on his arm and his name on every Hollywood producer’s lips. That is, until it turns out the ‘perfect girl’ is actually a perfect PR stunt! Dumped and with his name plastered across every tabloid headline, Steve decides to head home to England, questioning if he’ll ever find a woman who genuinely loves him for who he is, and not just his place on the Sexiest Man Alive list.It’s been fifteen long years since Ruby last saw her big brother – but the new LA version of Steve complete with designer wardrobe, California tan and an American accent is too much to bear – Ruby hardly recognises him and decides it’s time to get her brother back!With Ruby’s help, Steve goes undercover as he plays the part of a regular guy who leads a regular life. And then one perfectly fine, ordinary day he meets lovely, funny, down-to-earth Lydia. But when Hollywood comes calling, will Steve be able to leave both Lydia and his little sister behind?

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“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 attended to another passenger – who had been huffing loudly at all the attention Steve had been getting – then returned with a coffee pot. Steve had started eating his breakfast, welcoming the food. For some reason, although he found others complained a lot about it – especially the celebrities – he really liked in-flight food. But then he’d been brought up never to be fussy – and to clear his plate.

“Coffee, sir?”

“Please, need something to wake me up.”

“You know, I’m sorry you and Erica Kealey didn’t work out. I thought you made a beautiful couple,” Suzie said, pouring him a cup of coffee. Steve’s expression must have shown surprise. He closed his mouth and blinked. “Oh, I am sorry.” Even with her heavy make-up Suzie couldn’t hide her blushing – he watched her neck flush pink.

He laughed and waved it off. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting someone to comment, that’s all. The whole affair wasn’t too pretty.”

And he wasn’t quite over Erica. He still missed her – loving her, and being loved back. He’d hoped she’d be the one. She’d left a huge void in his life.

“I’m sure you won’t be on your own for long.” Suzie said, not quite meeting his gaze.

His stewardess was persistent, he’d give her that. But he didn’t mind, she was actually talking to him like he was a human being and not a god. She was prying, but then, they were all nosy when it came to fame and fortune. Suzie, albeit flirty and unprofessional, was still pleasant to talk to.

“No,” he said, laughing it off. “If I was, wouldn’t you know? The press know our secrets before we do.” He raised his eyebrows knowingly as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh, you celebrities have a way of hiding things, you never know what to believe in the press. I don’t read the papers myself.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t. Most of it isn’t true.”

“Or it’s blown out of proportion,” she said.

“Yes, that’s true.” He sighed. “Basically, I need a vacation. Preferably without the press hounding me.”

He never thought he’d say this but he needed time out of LA. He needed time away from Hollywood and the limelight. His popularity had erupted suddenly and he still hadn’t adjusted. Hopefully, in the UK he might fade into the background a little, if he kept a low profile. Even his agent had suggested him taking a couple of weeks off, seeing the fallout from Erica’s betrayal.

He’d just finished filming his next movie, Nothing Happened, which was due out next summer, plus all the other stuff that went with a movie release. He’d still had to do the rounds for Perfection; TV chat shows, magazine interviews, radio shows. His schedule had been hectic over the last few months, and he wanted to remove himself from it, slow things down.

Steve had locked up his Hollywood apartment, handed the keys to his personal assistant Marie, and told her he was taking a vacation. While he sneaked out of LA, his PA arranged for a guy who’d doubled for him on Perfection to spend a couple of weeks sunbathing in the Caribbean at an exclusive resort with a private beach, in the hope of fooling the tabloids. Steve had some time before he started shooting his next movie, so this was a good time to get away and catch up with Ruby.

He’d last seen her at their mother’s funeral, and that had been fleeting. Although the paparazzi wouldn’t gatecrash the wake, he’d had to return to LA, back to filming, so he hadn’t stayed as long as he’d have liked. Ruby felt like a stranger to him.

For a moment sadness and regret filled him. His mother. He’d hardly seen her in the last fifteen years, intent on making it big in Hollywood, plus flights home weren’t cheap when he hadn’t been making money. And then it had been too late, cancer took her in her prime.

He clenched his fists, reliving his anger. He should have been told sooner. He would have come home.

Thankfully, Suzie left him to eat his breakfast in peace, remembering that there were other first class passengers to attend to – especially the huffy old dear a row behind him – letting him dwell. The flight wasn’t busy – there weren’t many people flying in first class. He hadn’t made a fuss, wanting to retain a low profile, and it had worked. The cabin crew had been very surprised when the actual Steve Mason had boarded their plane.

After the breakfast trays had been cleared away, Steve must have dozed off, because he was gently woken by Suzie checking his seatbelt was fastened, and telling him they were approaching Heathrow.

About to disembark, Steve slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and felt a piece of paper in there. He didn’t remember having anything in his pocket. He took it out and read it: a note from Suzie, apologising for being unprofessional but providing him with her number, ‘in case he was staying anywhere near Richmond and needed company.’

He turned, winked, which made her blush and giggle, then walked off the plane.

Nothing personal, but he wouldn’t be calling Suzie, although he couldn’t just throw away her number, so he left the note in his pocket for now. He’d discard it later, discreetly. However much he would like to find love again, he knew Suzie wouldn’t be the one. She was in love – well, lust – with the star, the glamour, the money; not the real Steve Mason.

In pursuit of his luggage which he’d put through fast track, Steve tried Ruby’s work number. She was manager at a small hotel in the posh end of Bristol, as she’d put it.

“Good afternoon, Durdham Lodge, you’re speaking to Lydia. How can I help you?”

“Oh, hi, could you put me through to Ruby Fisher, please?”

“I’ll try her number for you. Who’s calling please?”

“I’d rather not say, I want it to be a surprise.” Steve wondered if he should have waited until he was out of the airport, the noise and bustling of people was making it hard to concentrate. He held his hand over his other ear. He’d wanted to call before boarding his plane, but with the time difference and everything, the need to just get out of LA, (he was the prime example that men couldn’t multi-task) – it had been the middle of the night in England – he had decided to leave it until landing.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I do need a name to transfer you. It’s company policy. What is the call regarding?” What did Ruby do that ensured her calls needed to be vetted? Even his own PA, Marie wasn’t this tough on private callers.

“I wanted to surprise her. Lydia, it is Lydia, yes?”

“Yes.” She had a soft voice. She sounded young, and he imagined her to be pretty…as pretty as Suzie, but telephone voices could be deceiving. Probably about fifty, married and looked like a dragon, knowing Steve’s luck. He’d have to ask Ruby about Lydia.

“My name’s Steve, and I’m family. We’ve not seen each other in a while; I’d like to surprise her, even if it is on the phone,” Steve said, trying to convey his smile down the line. “Can you trust me on this one? I’ll owe you big time.” A loud tannoy sounded over the arrivals lounge.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you. There’s a lot of noise in the background,” Lydia said.

“Sorry, I’m at the airport. I’ve just landed.”

“Oh, okay.” Steve had to hand it to Lydia, he understood why she was doing her job properly. He’d often relied on a good receptionist’s vigilance to keep the prying paparazzi from finding out he was staying in a hotel. “So you’re definitely not trying to sell something?” She giggled. It was infectious. If only she knew who she was really speaking to, would she be so at ease?

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