At twenty three, Grace was in her dream job. Okay, she may be on the first rung of the ladder but it was a ladder she was more than ready to climb. She had been lucky to land the interview let alone the job. Fresh out of college, her tutor had introduced her to the head of the TV company whom she knew well. After putting in a good word for Grace, all she had to do was show up for the interview and try not to make a complete idiot of herself, which as far as she was concerned was easier said than done, but she had managed to secure the job, enabling her to stand on her own two feet, ridding her of the financial burden she felt she had been on her parents.
Standing, she lifted the flower creation from her desk using both hands. Tracey on reception would lovethem, she had no doubt about that. Besides, they were far too ostentatious for her humble flat.
As she placed them on the main front desk in the foyer she felt a little guilty at giving them away; they obviously cost a fortune. There must have been at least twenty of each flower tucked away in the ornate creation. She fobbed Tracey off with some excuse that they were left behind on some set upstairs and were now surplus to requirements. The less people knew the truth the better.
When the receptionist was preoccupied with an enquiry, Grace had a moment of madness as she quickly snatched a single rose, lily and orchid from the elegant display, sure no would either notice or miss the three flower stems. Waving goodbye to the woman behind the desk Grace headed out into the warm early summer evening air, lifting the stems to her nose as she did. They were from Alex Carter and they had been addressed to her after all. It would have been extremely rude to not keep at least some part of the display.
There was no better feeling than turning the key in your own front door after a less than enjoyable day at work. Throwing her bag under the console table in the hall she headed off to hunt down a vase for the flowersbefore she would snuggle down in front of the television for the night.
Forget the action movie she had planned on watching, she’d had a better idea on the journey home. Setting up her glass and nibbles on the coffee table, she huddled under the throw as she pressed the play button on the remote control. The music thumped through the speakers. Grinning to herself, she allowed the hysteria that was emanating from the small antiquated box that she called a television wash over her. She hadn’t been lucky enough to see them play live but the DVD version was a good substitute. She just loved their music. Taking a sip of her wine she rested her head back on the sofa, closed her eyes and allowed Alex’s smooth voice to wash over her like warm honey.
She had been a fan since their very first single had been released. To be fair she had more of a thing for the drummer rather than the front man, having spent hours ogling the magazines that offered up pictures of the band wearing next to nothing. Christ, some of the pictures that were printed in those things were almost obscene. Alex had a reputation for being a player; the string of celebrities he had dated was as long as Grace’s arm, and the tattoos weren’t really her thing. She didn’t mind one or two tastefully done ones but as well as the full sleeve he sported he also had some on his chestalong with a great big design that covered the majority of his back.
Her mind drifted back to their meeting last week; she could remember the citrus-like smell of his aftershave. He was definitely better looking close up and in the flesh. She never normally got star struck but something about him had made her feel very jittery as she’d tried to talk to him, and what was with the whole running her hand over his shirt thing? Christ, she’d never done that to any of the celebs she’d dealt with before.
Retrieving the small white complementary card that had accompanied the flowers from her purse, she read the number again, running her finger over where he had written his name. Alex Carter had sent her flowers! The giddiness she should have felt earlier suddenly hit her as she leapt from her prone position to do a little happy dance around the sitting room and out into the hall to grab the phone. She had to call Sasha or she would just never sleep now.
“Alex Carter sent me flowers!” she almost yelled down the phone as soon as her confidante answered.
“Whoa, you idiot, you nearly deafened me! What happened to the cool as a cucumber Grace? The ‘I bet he sends everyone flowers’Grace. Did you call him yet?” Sasha had become one of her closest friends sincemoving to Scotland when she started this job, leaving behind her family and close circle of friends.
“Of course I haven’t! I told you, I’m not going to either. I guess I just got a little overexcited. Sorry.”
Grace had no intention of using the phone number he had provided, that would just be too creepy. She didn’t want to come across as some kind of groupie hoping to get his attention. No, she had managed to find the address for his management company on the internet which had allowed her to send a thank you email from her work email address. That had been the sensible, grown up, responsible thing to do. She had been brought up with good manners and there was no way she wouldn’t have said thank you for the flowers, even if she didn’t want to speak to him directly.
Sasha, of course, spent the next twenty minutes trying to convince her otherwise. She even offered to call the number for her friend, coming up with every conceivable scenario that he had actually provided Grace with his personal mobile phone number on the card. She, however, wasn’t naive enough to believe that.
“Well it’s your loss, honey. As far as I can see he is yours for the taking, but I know I’m never gonna convince you of that, and don’t think I can’t hear thatyou have his music blaring out in the background! Oh, you know what? I give in. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
Grace settled back down to watch the end of the concert DVD, carefully studying the main man as he performed in front of thousands. He looked so at home on the stage, smiling as the guitarist bantered with the crowd, getting them to repeat chants as he and Alex held out microphones towards the audience. No. It was a nice dream, but a dream was all it was.
As the plane taxied down the runway Izzie stretched out her arms, trying to release the knots of tension that had formed in her shoulders. She hated flying. Alex may have been able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat but she had yet to develop that skill. The flight was only short but still within fifteen minutes of taking off he had been snoring softly, leaving her to try and concentrate on her book to take her mind off the flight. She knew better than to try and wake him before the plane came to a complete stop outside the terminal. He never undid his seatbelt so, once asleep, she had just thrown his blanket over him and left him to it.
As the seatbelt release sign lit up with a low pinging noise Alex’s eyes fluttered open and he yawned. It took a few moments for him to take in hissurroundings and smile at Izzie. “Yay, we survived another flight, sis. You doing okay?” Reaching over, he ruffled her hair just as he did when they were younger. He knew how much she hated to fly but there was no way he was going to spend six or so hours in a car with her, babbling on about nothing in particular when he could be home in less than two.
They were greeted at the terminal by a very officious airport representative who was only too happy to play bodyguard to the siblings. After arranging for one of his underlings to collect any baggage for them, he guided them through the small crowd that had begun to gather in the main building. It didn’t take long for people to find out his whereabouts, particularly once the airport’s resident press pack spotted him. They were all too quick to point the cameras at him as they alerted the world’s press that he had arrived. It didn’t help either that there was that much information about his background given out during interviews and stuff. His most ardent fans knew where he lived, which restaurants he liked to eat in - they even knew his preferred brand of toothpaste! Anonymity was out of the question now.
Alex pulled Izzie in close to his body, keeping her cushioned between Mr Helpful and himself, trying to protect her from the less than polite paparazzi whowere insistent on shoving the lenses in their faces, almost blinding the pair of them. They scurried through the terminal, with their heads down and sunglasses on, to the waiting car. It wasn’t until the last of the luggage had been loaded and the driver had pulled out onto the main road that he breathed a sigh of relief.
Leaving him to calm down, Izzie pulled out her mobile phone, dialling home. Alex was vaguely aware of the conversation going on beside him but not wishing to take part in it, he busied himself with his own phone, checking emails and messages. Scrolling through the texts, there were several from Ben, two from his management team and one from the florist confirming the delivery today. He deleted them all except the last one. He was on vacation now, and if it was urgent they would call his sister.
“Did anyone from that breakfast show call today?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but not sure he was succeeding. He glanced nervously at his sister as she scrolled back through the call history.
“Nope, why? Should they have? I wasn’t aware there was a follow up call due. Do you want me to chase it up before I switch this thing off for the night?” She scrutinised his face looking for any tell tale signs.
“Nah, it’s nothing important, just one of the guyssaid he would give me a ring, that’s all. Don’t worry about it. Turn it off.”
They had only been delivered today; perhaps she’d call tomorrow. Frowning, he turned his attention to the greenery that scrolled past his window, watching as everything blurred into one, mirroring his thoughts.
As the electric window lowered, the driver leant out to tap the security number into the gate before driving the last few feet up the leafy drive to his parents’ house. Alex had bought the house for his parents after the huge success of their second album. He felt he owed them a debt beyond anything he could ever repay but at least giving them financial security in the latter years of their lives eased his conscience somewhat. At least his mum could open the curtains in this house. She had taken to leaving them closed at the house he grew up in because the fans would camp outside daily, desperate to catch a glimpse of him going about his day. They still gathered outside the new house but unless they were willing to climb the ten foot perimeter fence and do battle with the dogs there was little chance of them peering in the windows or posting crap through the letterbox.
Alex occupied the top floor of the old three storey Victorian house when he was at home. His parents'house was one of three properties that he owned; the other two were purely for him, one situated in Notting Hill which he spent most of his working life at and the second in the Lake District giving him the bolt hole he needed from the chaos that normally engulfed him. He knew which one he preferred; give him peace and quiet any day.
Opening the front door he could hear his brother’s kids in the sun room; they were laughing loudly at someone or something. He chuckled at the sound of what he presumed was his father making duck voices emanating through the house. It felt good to be home. They crept down the hallway together, barely able to sustain the laughter that was bubbling in their throats. He stood in the doorway quietly watching his family together, taking in the normality of it all; this was what he missed more than anything.
Looking up, his sister-in-law saw them first. Alex touched his finger to his lips, signalling for her not to give the game away as he watched the children in awe of his father. Creeping surreptitiously into the room he knelt behind where his mother sat before whispering in her ear. “Hi, Mum.”
Jumping at the sound of his voice she swung her head around to take in the sight of her middle childsmiling broadly at her. Taking his face in her hands she kissed him in greeting. “Oh, it’s good to see you! Look, Isla, Freddie, it’s your Uncle Alex!”
