Eighteen weeks later...
Where it concerned my love life, and no doubt the love lives of millions of other women, both Hollywood and Walt Disney had a lot to answer for.
Right now, however, Hollywood was doing a mighty fine job of presenting its own option to me. Sat on the other side of my table, licking away at a melting strawberry ice cream, was the one and only Jake Murphy. A-list Hollywood actor, film producer, and general all around rather fine male specimen.
Ruffled blonde hair glinted under the spring sunshine like a sparkling gem. His bright blue eyes twinkled with playfulness, and his rosy red lips were sprinkled with ice cream.
I couldn't help lingering over the baby blue cotton shirt clinging to his broad muscled shoulders. The pale colour highlighted his bronzed skin perfectly, showing off his definition even more.
He'd been sat down for a good couple of minutes and I had yet to digest the situation. How on earth was someone who I'd watched in several box office hit movies sat opposite me? Regardless, I refused to act like an airhead bimbo. He was after all, still only human. Being a celebrity didn't make him a God. Although, from his looks alone that could be debated.
"Busy place, isn't it?"
His voice was as smooth as his looks. If he was chocolate, he'd be Galaxy for sure. Despite my tortured past, being alone for five months had more than awoken the red-blooded woman in me.
"Yes, it's always packed whenever we come here."
The café at my local shopping centre was always heaving with customers. Sharing tables was a common thing if you wanted to sit in. I was still thanking my lucky stars that the only free tables today had been mine, and that of two elderly women who were chatting about the best way to cut carrots.
I'd been halfway through reading Front Row magazine when he'd startled me from the latest article about how to keep your man from straying. After the standard awkward silence, and with the page still open on said article, he glanced down at it, and smirked.
"I hope I'm not interrupting your reading?"
My cheeks instantly burned up under his mischievous gaze. "I didn't buy it. It was already here when I sat down."
"You know," he said, licking the last of the ice cream off his lips. "It's often said that rapid denial is a sign of guilt."
I laughed, trying to brush away the fact he'd caught me off guard. I cast a final glance at the magazine and pointed to a picture of him at the bottom of the article. "Oh look. There you are."
He chuckled. "There's no shame in reading the paparazzi's finest. Nor appearing to be associated with it. I often surprise myself you know."
I giggled. "I don't know how you deal with it. It'd drive me mental having them follow me around everywhere."
"Ah, there's the tricks of a good lawyer." He gave me a cheeky wink. "Tie them up in so many knots, the most they dare do is feature a thumbnail picture at the end of a trashy 'advice' column." He leaned over the table, peering at his small picture. "I ought to have them for that really. Not my best side."
I burst out laughing. "I'll email them and inform them that the picture of a so called faithful man isn't satisfactory."
He laughed. "Well, if you're going to try and sell something, at least sell it at its best."
"Fair point. But I think a lot of people would be happy if their best side looked half as good as that."
"Camera trickery," he said, cheekiness oozing from his handsome face. "It's all about angles and lighting. Besides, you look plenty good enough from all angles to me."
My temperature shot to boiling in less than a second. A hot blush flooded my face, turning me into a tomato instantly. The sly smile tweaking at the edge of his lips only heightened my sudden embarrassment. I didn't know where to look or what to say.
Thankfully, before I started picking my nails for something to distract myself with, he changed the subject.
"So, who is the lovely lady and charming young man I am privileged to share a table with?"
"I'm Louisa and this is Harvey," I said, resting an arm around the shoulders of my young son.
He extended a hand over the table. "Well, you know who I am. This—," he said, motioning to the boy next to him. "—is Lewis."
I placed my hand in his. My heart hammered inside my chest. He gripped my hand and gave me a firm handshake—a proper man's handshake. Fuzzy tingles shot up my arm before fizzling through the rest of my body.
"Pleasure to meet you, Louisa," he said, smiling.
"Likewise."
"So, what brings you here today?" he asked.
"Easter holidays, left over annual leave, nice weather. Usual." I took a sip of my lemon iced tea. "What about you? What could possibly bring you to Lincolnshire of all places?"
"Unfortunately, nothing as exciting as vacation time. I'm working on a new film close by but luckily for me, Flo has twisted her ankle and been ordered to rest up all weekend."
"Flo?"
He chuckled. "Sorry. Flora Childs. She's the lead actress in the new film I'm working on. She got a bit over zealous in one of her scenes and hurt herself."
I raised my eyebrows. "Wow, she's a big name. Is she as much of a diva as they say she is?"
Leaning back in his chair, he gave a deep, hearty laugh. "Now that would be telling. But let's just say her husband has a lot more patience than I do."
I couldn't help but giggle. "So, what's so special about this part of the world for the film?"
"All the Georgian buildings in the town centre, and the castle on the outskirts of town. It's a period drama we're filming so authenticity is rather key."
Images of him dressed as Mr Darcy sprang to mind. Now that would be a sight to see. Before either of us could continue the conversation, a loud scream pierced the air somewhere behind me. The wooden flooring clumped with the sound of ridiculous shoes as the screamer attempted to run in them.
"Oh my God! Please can I have your autograph? I'm like your biggest fan!"
I looked up to see a young brunette who could have only taken make up tips from a circus. Bright blue eye-shadow painted her eyelids, and her eyebrows resembled black slugs. The vivid red lipstick did nothing to compliment the orange bronzer she would need to chisel off before bedtime. She couldn't have been much more than nineteen. Her clothing was also something to be desired—she looked like she'd gotten dressed in a hurricane whilst visiting the wardrobe of The Spice Girls.
As she thrust a picture of herself in Jake's face, she glanced down at me. She curled her top lip back into a sneer and narrowed her eyes. I folded my arms over my chest and gave her my own unimpressed glare. I'd had a belly full of being intimidated in my short thirty years; I sure as hell wasn't going to accept any attitude from a snotty nosed, hormonal girl.
Jake, seemingly oblivious to the little showdown going on in front of him, obliged and signed her picture followed by various things from t-shirts to arms of her 'mini-me' gang. After what felt like an age, she led her troops away, shooting me a final snooty look as she did so. I flashed her my best smile as I sat back in my chair and smirked. I couldn't help but wonder how on earth celebrities put up with people like that hounding them constantly. That was something else that would drive me insane.
Unfortunately, after the unwanted interruption, both boys were now restless, and playing sword fights with a small drinks menu and the straw I didn't want from my iced tea. My heart sank a little as this was obviously the closing point of our brief meeting.
"I'd better get Harvey moving," I said, plucking the bent straw from his hand. "It was lovely to meet you. Best of luck with the films and all."
I groaned inwardly. Did I really just say that? Bending down, I reached for my handbag, hoping he might not have heard the ridiculous sentence that left my mouth. I stood up, and checked through my bag, making a fuss over ensuring I had my keys, purse, and anything else that might hide my red face for a few more seconds. Had I really been away from normality and society for that long?
Jake stood up suddenly, his chair screeching against the polished floor. "Are you going home?"
I shook my head. My heart leapt against my ribcage. "Not yet. My aim for today was to wear Harvey out so I could have a relaxing evening."
He chuckled. "I know that feeling." A slight shade of pink spread over his cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair. "Would you mind if we joined you?"
My jaw dropped open. Everything inside me, pulse included, froze. Had I heard that correctly? Too stunned to process any answer, let alone the right one, several silent seconds ticked by.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have even asked. I didn't mean to encroach on your time with your son." He offered his hand again, those beautiful blue eyes looking everywhere but at me. "It was lovely to meet you, Louisa."
Harvey tugged at my arm, snapping me from my daze. "Can we buy a football, please? Then I can play with Lewis in the park. Please?"
Heat ravaged me as I glanced up at Jake. He was watching me, waiting for me to take the lead. The words were there in my mind, wanting to leap out with a scream, but they were lodged in my throat, choking me with insecurity. A wall of tears threatened to build behind my eyes. When was I going to get over this?
Jake gave me a broad, soul-warming smile, relaxing me instantly. "I'm ok with that if you are?" he said.
I nodded, already wondering what we were going to talk about. Harvey was always my distraction, my 'escape route' from social situations I felt uncomfortable in. I'd either turn the conversation to him if I could think of nothing to say or I'd say we needed to go for one reason or another.
Re-focus. Chat was flowing easily before the girls showed up. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Imagine all your worries being pushed out as you exhale...
Patting my jeans pocket, I pulled out the ten pound note I'd gotten as part of my change when I bought mine and Harvey's drinks. Too flustered at the impatient cashier, and the long line of people behind me, I'd stuffed it in my pocket in a bid to just hurry up.
"Please," Jake said, shaking his hand at my money. He thrust his hand into his pocket and took out a dark brown leather wallet. "Let me."
In a split second, my nerves dissolved, irritation sparking inside me instead. Did he think I couldn't afford to buy a football? Did I really scream destitute damsel in distress? Is this what made me the perfect pickings for Adam? I pushed the thoughts away and swallowed the lump in my throat.
Don't be defensive. Being defensive indicates you're being attacked. Sometimes people are just nice, Louisa. Wise words from Dr Strawson.
"Thank you, but I can afford to buy a football." The scorn in my voice shocked me. I hadn't meant it to sound quite so harsh.
He stilled, his mouth open but no words coming out. Lewis jumped at Harvey, who needing no further encouragement, snatched the money from my hand, and dragged his new friend to the nearest sports shop.
"I didn't mean to offend you," Jake said, his voice low and hushed.
I smiled, trying my hardest to ignore the creeping doubts trying to infiltrate my mind. I'd been through intensive therapy since leaving Adam. I'd even felt stable enough to step the sessions down to once a week. Was I being too trusting with this guy? Yes, he might be an A-list celebrity, but that didn't mean he didn't have dirty little secrets he kept behind closed doors. Wife beating could easily be on that list.
Think positive, and positive will attract itself to you. You are the magnet, Louisa. Repel the negative and accept the good things in life—the things you deserve.
The one thing that my therapist repeated to me at the beginning and end of each session. After the hell I'd lived through, to not see things negatively had been impossible. Now I'd managed to turn my perceptions around, I wanted to keep a firm hold of them for as long as I possibly could.
"You didn't offend me," I said, embarrassment seeping through me. "I just like to pay my own way. Independence thing." I shrugged my shoulders in the hope he'd take it as a nonchalant comment.
He nodded and slid his wallet back in his dark denim jeans. "Very admirable."
The sound of running feet and shouts of joy from outside took our attention. We both turned to see the two boys sprinting towards the park with a new football. Not caring for the other shoppers, they ran straight through the middle of them, heading for the vast green at the end of the complex where stylish red brick shops came to a peaceful meeting with perfectly landscaped gardens. Complete with a small stream, cute wooden bridge, and dozens of ducks all waddling around looking for their next treat, it was a lovely place to just be.
Clattering over the bridge, the boys disappeared into the shallow tree line which edged the huge park just the other side. I came here quite often. It never failed to amaze me how you could literally step from one world into another in just a few strides.
Jake and I both looked at each other which then resulted in shy laughs. He motioned with his hand for me to go first. I hesitated, unsure of having a stranger behind me, but I knew he was just being a gentleman. My worry ended when we stepped outside and he walked next to me, matching his speed to mine. The urgent need to say something consumed my thoughts. What was I supposed to say? What could I say? As the silence continued, I fought hopelessly with a conversation starter.
We managed to reach the bridge before a second mob of young girls caught sight of Jake and made a beeline straight for him, shrieks and cries of joy filling the air.
Feeling a little out of my depth and not wanting to face another snotty teenager, I smiled and began to retreat over the bridge, happy to leave him to his autographing duties. But then he did something which flipped my world upside down—he reached forwards and grabbed my hand.
It wasn't a violent or aggressive move, but it shocked me still the same. I gasped as he drew me back next to him. At least ten disappointed, scowling teenage girls glared at me.
"Hi, girls," Jake said, flashing them all a dazzling smile. "Would you mind awfully if I have some private time here with my dear friend?"
Several of them stepped back whilst others groaned with displeasure. Of course, eager to please their sexy idol, they all nodded and agreed, resigning themselves to an empty-handed walk back home. My head was still whirring over the sudden contact between us and his terming me a 'dear friend'.
"Thank you," he said. He reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled out a handful of cream coloured cards. "As a way to say sorry for not spending time with you all today, take this card and give this guy a call. Tell him Jake said you can have tickets to my next premiere."
Like children at Christmas, more ear shattering screams filled the air before they all ran off, squealing with delight.
"Quite the people pleaser I see," I said, smirking.
He smiled as he took the lead and walked us over the bridge. "At the end of the day, I'd be nothing without them. I can't deny it doesn't get a bit much some days, but I appreciate every one of them. However, I do have to have a life and I've learned to draw the line over the years."
"Who's the guy they've got to call?" I was curious how the poor chap, whoever he was, would deal with a dozen teenage girls on the phone.
He grinned. "That would be Ray, my PR guy. He loves it."
I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"He'll have a new number by next week. Won't be the first time. Besides, he likes to feel popular. I'm just being a good friend by pointing more people in his direction."
I giggled, already pitying Ray. As we walked through the gardens, around the pruned bushes, and extravagant stone ornaments, the bright blue sky lit up intensely, as if someone had flicked a 'boil' switch on the sun. For the briefest of moments, I closed my eyes, revelling in hot sunshine, bird songs, echoes of feet kicking footballs, and the sensation of a caring hand wrapped around mine. It was bliss.
When I opened my eyes, I realised for the first time ever that what I saw in my mind was actually real; the delightful moment I'd had only a second ago was my reality. Less than a year ago, daydreams like that had only ever existed as a comfort, something to distract me from my living nightmare. When I thought back to where I was last summer, a violent shudder ran down my spine.
"Are you cold?" Jake said, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. "I have a jacket in my car if you'd like one."
"No, I'm good, thank you. Think someone walked over my grave."
He chuckled. "Quite fascinating really, isn't it—the human body?"
I pondered over his question and had to agree with him. "Yes, it is, I guess. The things it does, things it can do, things that can happen before it finally gives in."
Raising an eyebrow at me, he pulled his lips into a thin line. "I didn't mean on such a morbid level, but yes, you have a point."
"Oh," I said, my cheeks burning. "Sorry. I just...you know, films and things, and you hear of torture victims living for days without organs, et cetera..."
He laughed. "I was only referring to your involuntary shudder. Forgetting the old wives' tale, it's actually the subconscious release of the stress hormone, adrenaline. It's usually triggered by some sort of poignant, emotional memory."
My heart thumped to a dead stop. I was gobsmacked. But exactly at what, I couldn't quite decide. Was it the fact that he'd picked up on my shudder and my old memories or was it that such a gorgeous, so far charming man also had what appeared to be a vast knowledge of in-depth subjects?
I opened my mouth to speak, but found my throat so dry, I had to swallow several times just to be able to say two measly words. "That's cool."
Hearing the shouts of Lewis and Harvey enjoying their game of football, we picked our way through the small copse of trees. Dotted around the edge of the tree line were several picnic tables. Nestling in the shade, Jake gestured towards the nearest empty one, asking if I'd like to sit down. I smiled and followed him over to it, trying to calm the stampeding thoughts of what that conversation had meant.
The sharp crack of a twig snapping came from behind me. I jumped and gasped for a breath. My heart was racing, coursing adrenaline through me like wildfire.
"It's alright," Jake said, chuckling. "It's only a monkjack."
I followed his pointed finger with my eyes to see the small deer-like animal meandering through the undergrowth several feet away. Slapping a hand over my heart, I laughed.
"Flipping thing gave me a heart attack," I said, trying to forget the instant fear it was Adam.
Jake chuckled as we sat down on the aged wooden bench. I'd assumed he'd go one side and me the other, but he sat next to me, keeping a hold of my hand. My heart was in my throat, nervous apprehension tingling through me when I focused on the fact we were touching. It was almost like being back at school and holding hands under the desk, hoping the teacher wouldn't realise.
Watching the boys for a minute or so in a comfortable silence, it suddenly struck me how simple and innocent everything was for a child. They didn't care for politics, skin colour, age, deformities, clothes size, or anything else. All that mattered to them was having a good time and being happy. Could I ever look at anyone without prejudice again? Without assuming they would have an ulterior motive or be a copycat of Adam?
"Have you always lived around here?" Jake asked, breaking my thoughts.
I looked at him, startled by the personal question. "Yes," I said. "Born and bred around here, I'm afraid."
"It seems a nice place. I wish I'd grown up somewhere like this instead of the hustle and bustle of London. Quite a different life down there."
I nodded. "Was it hard growing up in the city?"
The corners of his mouth tugged upwards. "It was an evil necessity. If I hadn't, I don't think I'd quite have the life skills today that I really cherish."
"Such as?"
He grinned. "The ability to tell people to bugger off—and mean it."
I couldn't help but laugh at his answer. "Seriously?"
"To an extent," he said, slowly turning serious. "The film industry is a dog eat dog world. So is city life. You have to hold your own, take yourself seriously. After all, if you don't even take yourself seriously, why would someone else?"
I thought over his words. He had a point.
"I've done the whole drugs, drink, and err...other things. If I hadn't done that before I became this 'mega star', I could have easily slipped off the rails and ended up on a path of utter self-destruction. But, I've been there, done it, got the t-shirt. I know the damage it causes, and I have no desire to go back there again."
"In other words, it made you street wise."
He nodded and smiled. "Yes. As a result, I still have money in the bank and not stuffed up my nose or in some stripper's thong."
I giggled. His blasé honesty was surprising. I'd always expected anyone of his status to be full of airs and graces, minding their p's and q's.
"So, what do you do, Louisa?"
The way he emphasised my name sent shudders down my spine. I'd always hated it, yet I'd never had the heart to change it.
"I'm an accountant for a local food manufacturer. I've been there since I left school, so nearly twelve years now."
"Nice. So, you're how old then exactly?"
I grinned. "Haven't you ever heard its rude to ask a lady her age?"
"I apologise. How old were you when you left school?" He shot me a cheeky wink.
I laughed at his clever tactic. "I was eighteen in the June, started there in the July."
"Nearly thirty then?" He nodded to himself, as if approving something. "When's your birthday?"
"June sixteenth."
"Not far away at all. What have you got planned? Anything special?"
I really did have to laugh at that question. "Hiding under my duvet all day pretending it's not happening."
"It's not that bad, I promise. I'm forty next year. Now that I am worrying about, but that's a secret between me and you." He touched the side of his nose and winked again.
"What did you do for your thirtieth?"
He looked at me with such an intense focus, my breath caught in my throat. Squeezing my hand, he gave me a dazzling smile.
"I tell you what," he said. "I'll answer any question you wish to ask me." I opened my mouth to speak but he raised a hand, stopping me. "On one condition."
I was wary now, expecting something like he wanted a blowjob. "What's that?"
"That you let me take you out for dinner."