Teresa Morgan - One Fine Day

Build a few bridges, Steve.

“Come on, all this shopping was for me; I’ll treat you now.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to.”

“Yes I do.” Steve grabbed her elbow, and escorted her into the shop. Twenty minutes later – Ruby had tried on a few dresses in the end – they left the shop, Ruby grinning gleefully.

“‘Oh, you don’t have to,’” Steve said sarcasm lacing his words, “‘but is it okay if I try on this one, and this one and this one?’”

Ruby elbowed him playfully in the ribs. “Thank you, I’m very grateful. I’m not used to being spoilt.”

Steve winked. “Not a problem, Roo.”

“Just don’t make a habit of flashing your money around though,” she said more sternly.

“Okay,” he said, then mumbled, “I try to do a nice thing…”

“You were nice, now how about a coffee. I’m all shopped out and need a rest.”

Steve couldn’t agree more. The jet lag was catching up with him. He needed a boost.

They stopped at a coffee shop in the middle of the Mall which had a seating area under the escalators.

Steve chose a table tucked away, while Ruby ordered the coffees. He grew anxious as he looked at the clothes in the bags. If the press got hold of this, would they make it out as an early midlife crisis on his part? He started to imagine the headlines; ‘Mediocre Man Mason.’

Steve watched the shoppers passing him by. No one was taking a blind bit of notice of him. Maybe the people of Bristol were less likely to believe a Hollywood star would be right under their nose, whereas in London his cover could have easily been blown.

He wouldn’t get too excited yet. This was the first day. If he did get discovered, he’d have to say goodbye to Ruby, or she’d be swept up in it all. Luckily, he’d changed his name to his mum’s maiden name as he tried the rounds in Hollywood. An agent had suggested that Mason had a better ring to it than Fisher. This helped Mum and Ruby, when things had started to warm up for Steve on the fame front. They were able to keep a low profile, without being instantaneously linked to the new actor on the scene. It helped they lived in the UK, too. But he’d kept them private as much as he could and it seemed to work. Ruby had led a normal life as far as he could tell.

Although, was she happy with this normal life? He’d ask her one day. Today she was too keen to be his personal shopper.

“Large cappuccino for you, skinny vanilla latte for me.” Ruby placed the coffees on the table. “We’ll have these, shop some more, then you can buy me lunch.” She grinned.

“I was hoping you’d say we could go home. Haven’t I got enough clothes? I don’t have to get them all today.”

“Oh no, the next stop is the opticians.”

“I don’t need glasses.”

“You do now.”

She sipped her coffee, and winced, it was still too hot. He’d tested his own, but could drink it napalm. His mother had always said he had an asbestos mouth, drinking tea practically from the kettle. Fascinated, he watched Ruby stir her latte.

“What? Have I got milk on my lip or something?”

He laughed. “No. You just remind me so much of Mum.”

“I do?”

“Yes, your mannerisms, the facial expressions. Your eyes.”

“Yeah, they’re this a dull sludge colour, great.”

“They’re green. They’re not dull.”

“So where’d you get the pretty eyes from, huh?” She was referring to the light blue eyes that had now become one of his assets as an actor. That and his smile. Oh, he knew if he looked some women straight in the eye, he saw an instant transformation from calm and collected to a nervous jelly mess. He’d seen the state it could create a thousand times. Especially now he was Steve Mason – the Actor and Hollywood Hunk. He’d learnt in his teens he could make girls giggly and shy. He even used his eyes on his own mother to get away with murder.

“Dad, apparently,” he said. That’s what his mother used to say; he was the spitting image of his father.

“Great, Dad passes on the pretty eye gene to just you,” she said, cupping her latte glass and pouting.

“Your eyes are pretty.”

Ruby snorted. “They don’t sparkle like yours. So annoying! And don’t look at me like that, either.” She wagged her finger. “It won’t wash with me. And don’t forget it.”

They people-watched while finishing their coffees.

“Shall we go?” Ruby said, draining the last of her drink and pushing the cup away.

“Damn it, when did you get so bossy?”

The next thing Steve knew he was being lead into an opticians.

“We need glasses,” Ruby said to an assistant that approached her. She was a pretty blonde, who immediately took a shine to Steve who was trying on different pairs of glasses.

“Aren’t you—?”

“No!” Steve laughed it off, keeping a pair of frames on his face.

“He gets that all the time.” Ruby stood in between them. “That’s why we were thinking some glasses.”

“Do you need your eyes tested?”

“Nothing wrong with my eyes, twenty-twenty vision,” Steve said, beaming his million-dollar smile at her. Ruby pinched him. He rubbed his arm, scowling at Ruby, then looked back to the assistant. “I’ve got a job interview, thought glasses would make me look more professional.”

The assistant nodded. If she believed that, she’d believe anything.

“Here, try these.” Ruby picked out a pair of glasses, thin silver frames and handed them to him. He put them on, looked in the mirror, then looked at her, she frowned. “Hmmm…Not enough.”

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?” he said quietly so only Ruby could hear.

“Clark Kent.” Ruby pushed another pair into his hands, putting the other pair back. “No one realised he was Superman, did they? Not even Lois.” She whipped the next pair of glasses off his face. “Not nerdy enough.”

She found another pair. Steve knew what she was doing; she was trying to find frames that didn’t quite suit him, yet didn’t want them to look so ridiculous no one would fancy him. He put the glasses on. They were bigger frames, though fashionable, but they didn’t quite complement his face, so would hide his looks, at least a little. His heart still palpitated every time he glimpsed his new haircut in the mirror, let alone the spectacles on his face. What was he doing?

Early mid-life crisis was definitely what it looked like. The press could not get wind of this.

“Perfect!” Ruby clapped her hands together. “Can we buy these, please?” she said, approaching the assistant, who’d watched dumbfounded for the last ten minutes. She’d tried helping but Ruby hadn’t allowed her to express her expert opinion. The assistant’s face said it all. These glasses were all wrong, which meant they were right for their purpose.

“Well, uh, they’re our display.” The assistant hesitated. “It takes a few days for them to come through usually—”

“We were hoping to take them today – as he only needs plain lenses.”

Steve got out his wallet, pulling out twenties. “Here,” he said, winking at the assistant, young enough to use his blue-eyed charm on, plus she wasn’t his sister. “I’m sure this will do it. Just not a word now.” He tapped his nose.

“Okay, okay.” Works every time. The assistant hurried off, ran it through the till, having a word with the manager. She put the glasses in a case and handed them to Steve, keeping hold of his hand for a brief moment.

“You know, I’m free tonight—”

“I’m sorry, but he’s gay.” Ruby rushed in, grabbing Steve’s arm. The assistant looked taken back.

“What?” Steve said, astounded.

“Come on, Bro,” Ruby said sternly. “Bruno’s waiting for you.”