Thursday brought yet another ostentatious gift; this time it was a fruit basket with the card reading, ‘If you don’t like flowers or chocolate then maybe this will do the trick. Please call me, Alex x’. She hadn’t been so lucky with the delivery this time; the fruit arrived smack in the middle of the day giving Sasha and everyone else the opportunity to quiz her, or try to bully her into calling him despite her protestations.
Friday morning sitting at her desk, she was relieved to see that there had been no surprise deliveries. Waiting for the ancient computer to load up she chatted to Sasha about their plans for the weekend before opening up her emails for the day. Scrolling through the mundane rubbish, Grace began deleting stuff or moving it to the relevant folders to await her attention. The sharp intake of breath caused Sasha toscoot across to her friend’s side of the desk, trying to peak over Grace’s shoulder to get a look at what had caused her distress.
“Sorry, it’s another email from that bloody awful man, Mr Benson. The one who keeps making completely unreasonable demands for his artist. I can’t bear to read it; he probably wants someone to fan the arsehole whilst they film the interview or something equally as stupid.”
Gazing across at Sasha she prayed she had been convincing enough. Narrowing her eyes, she muttered something incoherent but did indeed slide her chair away allowing Grace to open the offending email.
‘Hi, sorry if this seems a little intrusive but I am running out of ideas now. What do I have to do to get you to talk to me? I only want to take you out to dinner, so if you could just ring me on 07870 525968, Thanks.
Alex.
Oh and that’s my private number so I would appreciate you not sharing it with anyone! Thanks again.’
Who the hell did he think he was? What did he think she was going to do, post it on the internet for all and sundry to see? What a jerk.
Grace’s hand hovered over the delete button on the email. She should just press the button and be done with it; at least then she could get on with herlife. No email – no problem. She wasn’t sure why she perceived dinner with Alex would be a problem. The only justification she had was the uneasy feeling he had created in the pit of her stomach, the impending feeling of doom that sat there like a knot churning her insides. He had only been nice to her. Asking her out to dinner wasn’t really the crime of the century, even though there was no way she could ever accept his invitation. He was famous beyond belief and she was just little old Grace. She had no idea what fascination she held for him but she wished it would wear off pretty soon. She had no intention of being the next notch on his bedpost or his latest plaything. As for all the attention that surrounded his every move, she just didn’t want to be a part of that at all. It must be absolute hell having the press hound you wherever you went; surely he had no private life at all.
For some reason unbeknown to her, she filed the email in her personal folder. At least then it was out of sight and she couldn’t ponder over it or have it there tempting her like some cream cake calling to her.
The day had dragged on and on. Grace had been checking the time on the wall clock every ten minutes waiting for her five thirty finish to arrive. It was the weekend and she was more than ready for the frivolity that would ensue.
“Right that’s me done, Sash. I’m off. See you later and don’t be late. You know I hate sitting in the bar by myself like billy no mates!”
As she reached the lift she could hear her desk phone ringing. Well, too late, she was outta there. Hitting the lift door button she smiled to herself. It wasn’t that long ago she would have run back at breakneck speed to pick up the call, prove her worth to her boss, but not today.
“Oh for God’s sake, do you people not have a life? It’s Friday night!” Sasha muttered to herself as she reached over to grab Grace’s phone. She had to stay late to help out with the next week’s scheduling. They took it in turns and she couldn’t really argue. “Hello, Grace Harris’ desk. Sasha speaking.”
“Oh...sorry I was hoping to catch Grace. Sorry, has she left already?” Alex wasn’t expecting the stranger to answer; the woman who had put him through had assured him she hadn’t left yet.
“Just missed her, sorry. What can I do for you? Who’s calling?” Sasha recognised the voice but had no idea where from. The deep gravelly sound was so familiar.
“Nothing... nothing. Sorry to bother you. Will she be in on Monday? I don’t suppose you could give me her number could you?” It was a long shot but hereckoned it was worth a punt. He was sure with a bit of charm he might be successful.
“Sorry, company policy, no personal details to be passed on. Who did you say it was, sorry?”
“I didn’t. It’s Alex...Alex Carter.” He waited for the gasp, the intake of breath or the squeal that most women did when they spoke to him. All he heard was a clattering sound before she spoke again.
“You mean The Alex Carter from Uni-Fi? The man who keeps sending her gifts? The guy who she chews my ear off about but will still not call? That Alex Carter?”
He didn’t think she had stopped to draw breath, the words coming out in a rush. “Yep, that’ll be me. Are you sure I can’t get her number from you? I promise not to stalk her, I just wanna take her to dinner and she won’t call me or answer my emails. Please?”
It was times like this that he wished he was in the same room with the fan. At least then he knew if he flashed his smile he usually got what he wanted.
“Oh, shit! Sorry, sorry! Oh my God. I can’t believe she hasn’t called you. I really can’t give you her number though. If it’s any use she will be here late on Monday. She has a late show that she takes care of. You’ll probably catch her at around six thirty, sheusually sits at her desk to eat while the prep gets done. But I haven’t told you that. She will kill me for interfering if she finds out.” Sasha knew she had gone too far. It was none of her business but she also knew that Grace was just being stubborn and stupid.
Alex thanked her; at least he had a firm time when he knew she would be around. After surreptitiously extracting a little more information on Grace’s likes and dislikes he promised the woman he would call Grace on Monday evening. Being famous had its plus points sometimes.
The weekend seemed endless as he counted down the hours. No amount of time spent on his games console or playing with his niece and nephew did the trick, and he was becoming more and more agitated as the time slowly dwindled past. He just wished he had rung her sooner, then maybe this would be all over and done with. He should have listened to Cam in the first place. She hadn’t even sent a thank you email for the chocolate and fruit gifts, and she still hadn’t responded to his email. Why was it that the ones he wasn’t interested in would throw themselves at him, but yet the one girl he did want to notice him didn’t appear to want anything to do with him? He was damned if he could ever suss out what it was that people wanted from him.
As he watched the clock slowly moving towards the afternoon, he had an epiphany. He wouldn’t ring her, he would fly up to Scotland instead. That way she couldn’t avoid answering him and at least he would know if it was a lost cause or not.
“Izzie! Isobel, where are you?” Alex shouted out to his PA, sticking his head out into the hallway. He knew she was around somewhere; he could hear her laughing with Emma. “Izzie!” He made his way down towards the games room, the laughter growing louder as he opened the door. “There you are. Are you deaf? I was shouting you!”
“I heard, but you seem to forget, whilst you are not working I am nothing but your lowly sister. Not at your disposal 24/7. Got it?” Izzie appeared put out but he didn’t have time to grovel right now. He was on a mission.
“Yeah, whatever, sorry. Look, I need to book a flight to Scotland as soon as, oh, and I’ll need a hotel near the airport.” Alex turned to leave the room, his mind running ahead of him.
“The number’s on the tablet under ‘travel’. Help yourself, it’s in my room.” Izzie went back to her conversation with her sister-in-law.
