Bound by Ivy (4 page)

10

I sit watching the door for a while, puzzling over what Marc’s message could be. But after a few minutes, delicious breakfast smells start teasing my nostrils and hunger prods and pokes at me.

God, I’m famished. I really am.

I begin spooning up porridge and crunching on strips of streaky bacon, feeling warm maple syrup and creamy oats roll around my mouth.

When the porridge is done, I lift the glass cloche from the Eggs Benedict and dig in with a silver knife and fork.

Wow. The poached eggs and Hollandaise sauce taste so good, and underneath salty, warm ham tops two soft English muffins. I don’t think, when I start eating, that I’ll be able to finish the plate, but I do with ease, mopping up the Hollandaise with a square of bakery fresh muffin.

I finish up the strawberries and yoghurt too, washing them down with the freshest, cleanest glas
s of pink grapefruit juice I’ve ever tasted.

As usual, Marc knows what I want and need better than I do
.

When I’m finished, I slide the tray away and lie back on the firm mattress. My body feels relaxed and happy and full of food, but
pretty soon my mind begins running an obstacle course again. What was Marc’s sudden exit all about?

I just can’t imagine that Marc could ever slip back into his old, dark ways. We’re so close now. My heart tells me not to worry – at least not on the ‘
Marc growing cold’ front.

My head, on the other hand,
begins its usual run through of all the reasons why it’s crazy that Marc and I are together. After all, he could have pretty much any woman he wanted.

I remember
the pictures of Marc with gorgeous models and Hollywood actresses on his arm. Of course, that was way before we got together. But god, I wish I’d never seen those pictures. Compared to those women, I’m nothing.

Shut up Sophia. You’ll drive
yourself crazy.

I snap my eyes closed and try to chase all my horrible, ugly insecure feelings away. But
sometimes it’s tough. Coming from where I came from, it’s hard to believe that I can truly stay where I am now – in the home of a billionaire, who also just happens to be drop dead gorgeous. Oh, and I shouldn’t forget that I’m also playing a leading role in a major West End musical beside Leo Falkirk.

God, life is crazy sometimes.

I hear the bang of hard feet on the staircase and sit up straighter.

The bedroom door springs open.

Marc strides towards me, pushing his hair back from his forehead.

‘Marc?’
I swing my legs from the bed.

‘Sophia, there have been some developments. I think now would be a good time
for you to visit your father for a few days.’

‘
I’m going to stay with him tomorrow. After the Christmas Eve performance. Leo and I were planning on going over a few songs today. At the theatre. Remember?’

M
arc’s face darkens. He stalks back and forth, then turns to me. ‘Fine. But when you finish your performance tonight, you’re to go straight to your father’s house. Keith will drive you there. I’ll have your things sent over today.’

‘Marc, what’s going on?’

‘Nothing for you to be concerned about. But it’s best you stay at your father’s place right now. What time did you arrange to meet Leo?’

‘I didn’t. You know Leo, he’s a
“let’s wait and see” kind of guy. We said we’d play it by ear.’

‘Phone him now and see if he wants to meet in the next hour.
If he agrees, I’ll have you taken to the theatre. You’re to stay there until after your performance.’ Marc begins pacing again.

‘
Marc
. This is crazy. You
want
me to go and spend time with Leo? Last night, you were acting sort of jealous.’

‘Jealous?’ Marc’s eyebrow tw
itches. ‘Of Leo Falkirk? Do I have something to be jealous about?’ His voice is low and foreboding.

‘No. Of course not.’

‘I’m protective of you where other men are concerned,’ Marc growls. ‘Especially irresponsible men. I didn’t like Leo putting his hands on you last night. And I don’t like the thought of him entertaining you in his dressing room, away from everyone else. Anything could happen.’

I laugh.
‘But it wouldn’t.’

‘
You
might not want something to happen, but he might.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning all I know of Leo Falkirk is that he’s a boy in a man’s body. I don’t trust him to behave responsibly.’

‘Well I do,’ I say
, standing. ‘He’s a good guy.’

Marc comes cl
oser to the bed, towering over me. ‘If he ever touches you against your wishes, I’ll kill him.’

I feel
Marc’s hand come into my hair, but I turn away so his fingers slide free. ‘He wouldn’t. I told you. I know him.’

A frown cuts into Marc’s
forehead. ‘How well do you know him?’ His words have a dangerous edge to them.

‘Well enough
to know he’d never hurt me.’

Silence. It takes me a moment to realise how Marc could have taken those words
, and by the time I see the pain in his eyes it’s too late. I’ve lost him, at least for the moment.

‘Marc
—’

‘Call Leo and see if he’ll meet you. I need you to leave the townhouse as soon as p
ossible. There are things I have to take care of.’

I feel sick
. ‘I didn’t mean ... about hurting me … you’ve touched parts of me that no one has.’

Marc
turns away from me. ‘I’ll leave you to get dressed. And to make your call. Your phone is on the dressing table.’ He heads to the door. ‘Call me when you get to the theatre, so I know you’re safe.’

‘Marc,’ I say
, knowing my voice sounds fragile and tearful. ‘Please. What’s happening?’

Marc
turns back to me, and I see his beautiful profile. God he’s so handsome. So charismatic. I hear that horrible voice again – the voice of my paranoia.
He’s getting tired of you. That’s what this is all about.

‘It was nothing you did,’ says Marc, not looking at me. ‘Just ... trust me, this is f
or the best right now. It’s my way of keeping you safe.’ He heads to the door.

‘Wait
,’ I call to Marc’s retreating back, tears coming now.

‘We’ll talk later
.’ Marc leaves and the bedroom door slams closed behind him.

11

I shower and dress, my mind swirling with unpleasant thoughts. Something weird is going on – bad weird. And I hate not knowing what.

Once I’m dressed,
I call Leo and ask if he can meet right away.

Leo gives a firm
‘yes’, and tells me he’ll bring doughnuts and coffee to the theatre.

I head downstairs and find Keith waitin
g in the hallway. He’s in his chauffeur’s uniform, complete with grey cap, and he touches the peak when he sees me.

My hair is still damp from the shower and hanging around my shoulders. Until my hair dries, I look like a wild woman. But if I use a hairdryer it sends my hair into a wild frizz.

‘Good morning Miss Sophia,’ Keith calls out.

I smile
. ‘Come on, Keith. You know it’s just Sophia where I’m concerned.’

‘I know. Just teasing.
I believe I have the pleasure of taking you to the theatre today?’

It’s strange seeing Keith in Marc’s house. I’ve only ever seen him in the car or the garage before, but I guess he must come
inside pretty often. Marc isn’t the sort of man to let his staff wait in cold garages.

A very loyal employer.
Isn’t that what Keith said about Marc? And he’s loyal to Denise too, taking care of her over the years. And I’ve seen myself how loyal he is. To his students. To the college.

Is he proposing to me
out of loyalty?
says a nasty voice.
Maybe he’s worried he’s ruined my reputation and now he has to do the right thing.

God, what’s wrong with me tod
ay?

‘Marc wants me to go t
here, so I guess I’m going,’ I say, attempting a smile.

‘You do
n’t strike me as the sort of girl who’d do everything Marc told you to. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s one of the reasons Marc is so head over heels about you. You have a mind of your own.’

‘
Most of the time,’ I laugh. ‘But it’s easy to lose my head when Marc’s around.’

We
head down to the garage, my brain still working at one hundred miles an hour.

*****

When we drive out of the townhouse, I notice black-clothed security men around the gate.

‘Do you know why those security guards at
there?’ I ask Keith, as we swing out into the road.

‘
Beats me,’ says Keith, turning onto the busy main road. ‘They weren’t here when I arrived. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Marc is a “better safe than sorry” kind of guy.’

‘Uh ... Keith,’ I say. ‘Aren’t we going the wrong way?’

‘Marc’s orders,’ says Keith. ‘We’ll be varying our route to the theatre from now on.’

‘Oh.’ I chew my thumb
nail. ‘Keith, what’s going on? Marc wanted me to leave the townhouse as soon as possible. And then there are these extra guards on the gate, and you’ve been told to take a different route. I thought the townhouse was safe …’

‘
If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that Marc always has good reasons for his actions.’

‘If you’re sure …’

‘Oh, I’m sure.’ Keith’s eyes mist over. ‘You know, years ago, when I first started working for Marc, he asked me to take what I thought was a stupid route to one of his premieres. He was learning a speech in the back of the limo, and I thought to myself,
he doesn’t know London like I do. I’ll just drive the quickest way, and he’ll thank me for getting him there faster.

‘So I took my own route, an
d guess what happened? Paps blocked the road, and we spent an hour stuck in traffic with cameras banging on the windows. Marc knew the paps would be there, of course. He’d planned a back route for us, but I thought I knew best.’

‘Was he angry?’ I ask.

‘No. He just said it was a lesson to trust him in future. And I always have.’

12

When we reach the theatre, Keith drives the car right up to the stage door so there are only inches between us and the security guards. Then he gets out and checks the security guards’ IDs. Only then does he let me out of the car.

I still get
a shiver of fear when I see that stage door, but little by little I’m learning to let the past go.

‘Thanks Keith,’ I say
, climbing out of the car.

‘Marc asked me to pick you up after your show tonight,’ Keith says. ‘And drive you straight to your dad’s house.’

I chew at my thumbnail again. ‘Will Marc be with you? When you come to pick me up?’

‘He didn’t mention it
. But don’t worry. I’m sure he won’t let you out of his sight for long. I’ve never seen him so wrapped up in anybody, and I’ve known him a long time.’

*****

Inside the theatre, I head up to the auditorium and find Leo lounging on the stage, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a glazed doughnut in the other. A box of pink, brown and yellow doughnuts sits beside him.

‘My leading lady
!’ Leo gestures to the space beside him. ‘I got you espresso. It sounded like you could use waking up earlier.’

‘Thanks.’ I sit d
own on the stage and pick up a tiny takeaway espresso cup, wrapping my fingers around the hot cardboard.

‘Doughnut
? I bought a heart-shaped one, just for you.’ Leo pushes the box towards me with his flip-flopped foot. His feet are golden brown, and a little roughed up around the edges – surfer’s feet.

I think about what Marc said earlier, about Leo being irresponsible. I can imagine that, when Leo was a teen actor, he could have been a little too carefree
. And he still is, in a way. But that doesn’t mean he’s not a good person.

I shake my head. ‘Thanks, but I had a pretty big breakfast.’

‘The breakfast of love, huh?’ Leo says, taking a bite of his doughnut.

I don’t reply
.

‘Uh oh. You and Marc on the rocks again?’

‘I don’t think so,’ I say. ‘But
something
is going on.’

‘Would it have anything to do with all the extra security guards
around the place?’ Leo asks. ‘They frisked me this morning before I could enter the theatre. And I’ve got to give some dumb password at the door and show my driver’s licence.’

I laugh.

‘What’s going on?’ Leo asks.

‘I wish I knew.’ I take a tart sip of espresso and wince. It’s too strong for me, but the caffeine is welcome.
I should love strong coffee, coming from an Italian background, but I don’t.

My mother used to
adore espresso. I remember her buying this huge silver espresso maker for our tiny cottage kitchen. ‘I miss
real
Italian coffee,’ she’d said. She maybe used the machine once. Then it gathered dust on top of the kitchen cupboards, just like her sandwich toaster, ice-cream maker and a zillion other gadgets.

‘You look very beautiful
this morning, Sophia,’ says Leo.

I blush. ‘Leo
—’

‘Oh come on. You
must know you’re beautiful, in that natural, Disney-eyed, butter-wouldn’t-melt sort of way. A million guys must have told you so.’

‘No
t really.’ I take another sip of my espresso and wince again.

‘A little strong for Miss whiter than white?’ Leo grins.

‘Whoever said I was whiter than white?’

‘I did
,’ says Leo, ‘but then again, you’ve hooked up with Marc Blackwell, so I guess you can’t be all that sweet and innocent. Hey, if you two are on the rocks again—’

‘We’re
not
on the rocks. I should call him. I promised I’d let him know that I arrived safely.’ I take out my mobile, but before I can make the call, Leo reaches forwards and snatches the phone.

‘Leo!’ I shout
. ‘Give that back.’

‘Oh no.
I’m not having you checking it every five minutes to see if Prince Charming has called. I’ll hang on to this until we’ve finished rehearsals.’

‘Leo, I promised him
—’

‘
I mean it, Sophia. I’m not going to practise with someone who’s getting distracted all the time.’

‘God!’ I shake my head, exasperated. I’ve never had a little brother, but I’m
beginning to understand what having one must be like. ‘Leo, give me my phone. I promised Marc I’d call. He’ll worry.’

‘
He should. If you’re with me.’

‘Give me the phone Leo.’ I try to snatch it from him, but he holds it up high.
That does it. I climb up on the stage and wrestle his knees until he falls onto the floor.

We end up in
a pile together, me on top of Leo trying to claw the phone out of his hand.

‘Okay, okay,’ Leo laughs, holding up his long arm so the phone is out of my reach
again. ‘I’ll do you a deal. You can have your phone back so you can call your over-protective boyfriend. But after that, I take the phone for the rest of rehearsals, okay? I don’t want you checking your phone all the time. It’s distracting.’

‘Okay, deal
,’ I say, trying to catch my breath.

Leo hands me the phone. ‘Here. I’ll help you up.’
He wraps his arm around me and sits up, throwing me into his lap in the process.

For a m
oment our faces are inches apart, and I feel the hard muscles of his arms and his toned chest.

‘Why Miss Rose, you’re blushing,’
says Leo.

I extract myse
lf from his lap, embarrassed that there actually is a blush creeping up my neck and over my cheeks. Then I turn my back on Leo and call Marc, still out of breath from our wrestle.

‘Sophia.’ Marc answers straight away.

‘I’m here,’ I tell him. ‘I made it to the theatre.’ I glance over my shoulder. ‘I’m with Leo.’

‘I know,’ Marc says quietly, his tone for
eboding.

‘You do?’

‘I’m having you monitored at all times. For your safety.’

‘Oh.’ I swallow, thinking about that little scene with Leo and
praying Marc didn’t somehow see it through CCTV cameras or something. ‘Then ... why did you ask me to call?’

‘I like to play safe where you’re concerned,’ Marc says. ‘Make double sure.’

‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on yet?’ I ask.

‘Sophia, it could be nothing at all. I don’t want to worry you. But while I’m looking into things, it’s better that you’re not at the townhouse. That’s all I can say right now.’

Silence. I want to tell him I love him and miss him. That I can’t wait for him to touch me again. That I can’t bear us being apart. But I’m so frightened by his sudden anger and coldness. So instead, all that comes out is, ‘When will I see you again?’

‘S
oon, I promise.’

There’s a click, and the line goes dead.

‘Now you can give me the phone,’ says Leo, bounding to his feet. ‘We had a deal, remember?’

I sigh
. ‘Fine.’ Reluctantly I hand it to him.

Leo clamps
his fingers around the phone. ‘I’m going to store this somewhere you can’t get hold of it. And then you can focus on me and me alone.’