Just a Fan (26 page)

'How was it, yesterday?' I asked the next day as we had breakfast.

'Exhausting,' replied Connor, buttering his toast. 'You will not believe
how
many times we had to shoot one of the scenes. I swear we had to do about forty takes...they had a new lighting technician who kept changing his mind about where the lights should go, and then they couldn't decide at which angle to shoot it...'

I frowned. 'I thought you just filmed a scene and went onto the next one...?'

Connor gave a mirthless, weary laugh, shaking his head. 'Oh, no,' he said. 'Each scene has to be re-shot at the very least three times, and they're rarely shot in order. But I suppose I'm well used to it all now...' He took an impossibly huge bite out of his toast, then looked up at me as he crunched. 'You weren't staying awake waiting for me all of last night, were you?'

'Oh - no, of course I wasn't,' I lied, not wanting to sound pathetic and cause him concern. 'I just woke up when you came to bed.'

Connor smiled. 'Good,' he answered. 'I wouldn't want you losing any sleep over me...' I returned his smile, a little guiltily.

'I'm off to see Central Park today,' I reminded him, changing the subject.

'So you are,' he said with a smile, finishing off his toast, and then got up, brushing the crumbs from his shirt. 'Well, you have fun with Michaela, and you can tell me all about it when I see you - either tonight or tomorrow morning.'

'Right,' I replied, beginning to miss him already. Who knew when he would be back tonight...

Leaving the table, I escorted him as usual to the door.

'Bye, then, Lilly,' he said, leaning down to give me a kiss.

'Bye!' I answered, and watched him leave, closing the door smartly behind himself with a final wave.

Once alone, I sighed. It was going to be a long morning...

Luckily for me, I managed to pass the time until Michaela came to pick me up by watching one of the many film channels on TV, which by some coincidence happened to be showing by an old film of Connor's. I sat happily on the sofa, enraptured. This was a film I hadn't seen before, but had heard of; here, Connor was much younger - somewhere in his mid-twenties - and he played the role of some rather good-looking psychopath. It amused me to notice that his haircut made his ears stick out a little, which made him appear even younger. Nevertheless, he was still an exceedingly brilliant actor; the way he moved and the expressions on his face were very convincing indeed, and it was no wonder that his acting had gained him so much acclaim over the years. I watched intently as the camera followed the graceful curve of his long hand carressing the serrated blade of a knife, then zoomed in close to his pale blue eyes. I had woken up this morning with those very same blue eyes looking at me...

I carried on watching as Connor engaged in a very excitingly-choreographed fight scene, taking down a whole group of men by himself with his blade twirling. The film was really quite interesting, and it also finished just in time for lunch. I therefore had plenty of time to put together a quick sandwich and eat it in the sunshine out on the balcony, before Michaela rang at the door.

'Coming!' I called, skipping over and opening it.

'Hi there, Lilly,' Michaela greeted me. 'You ready?'

I grinned. 'Yes, I am!'

Central Park was only a short way north-west of Connor's penthouse, and when Michaela took me there I found myself greatly surprised at the sight of such a large, verdant area right in the middle of this busy city. It was only about a third of the size of Richmond Park in London, but it still had some very beautiful plantlife. To me it looked almost like a forest that had sprung up out of nowhere between the tall, towering rows of buildings that now bordered it...however, Michaela told me that it wasn't a natural park, as just about all of it had been landscaped. Nevertheless, walking through it with her was lovely. Most of the trees were still bare from winter, but others were starting to get ready for spring early, and some had never shed their leaves at all.

Apparently the Park continued south for a few kilometres, and as it would take more than just an afternoon to explore it all, Michaela and I restricted ourselves to the northern part of it, starting off near the huge reservoir. I marvelled at the blue, rippling expanse of water that reflected the skyscrapers just beyond the trees that bordered it. I had thought that New York was an entirely urban place; I had never imagined that there would be such a beautiful wooded area right at the heart of it, even if Michaela said it was all just landscaping.

We walked along the track that encircled it, making light conversation.

'You know, all those numbered streets and avenues used to just confuse me,' I told Michaela as we passed joggers and other people walking. 'I had no idea
how
people could work out addresses like "East Twenty-Fifth Street, Lower East Side" and ones like that...it seemed to me that properly named streets were easier to remember. But then I found out why they're all numbered like that, and I have to say it's really quite clever.'

Michaela laughed. 'It is, isn't it?' she replied. 'But around Lower Manhattan the streets aren't numbered. I think here in the Upper East Side everything's neater with the way it's set out.'

I nodded in agreement, and we walked on in silence for a moment until she asked me: 'How did you and Connor meet? I'm curious...'

I smiled. 'It's completely crazy...I was just walking home as usual, and I literally bumped into him while he was leaving a photoshoot,' I told her. 'Then later we got talking...and here we are.'

'Wow,' said Michaela. 'Fate, eh? I just met George at a party...nothing amazing about that.'

'How long have you been together for?' I asked politely.

'Nearly a year now,' she answered proudly. 'We're starting to think about maybe getting married...'

'Oh, really?' I replied with a smile.

'Nothing's settled yet,' Michaela said bashfully, but with a wide grin. 'George is always so indecisive...but that's just why I adore him.'

A gust of wind rustled the branches of the trees, and I hunched my shoulders, putting my hands in my coat pockets. Michaela noticed, and commented: 'Nice coat - where's it from?'

I chuckled. 'Some shop in England I don't remember,' I replied. 'I've had it for ages.'

At this remark, Michaela narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. 'Lilly?'

'Yes?'

'How would you like to take a little shopping trip?'

That evening, I returned home from our "little shopping trip" with sore feet and several large shopping bags. Michaela had whisked me straight off to the Saks Fifth Avenue department store - a place where she herself regularly shopped - and had led me wide-eyed through the huge galleries of the multi-floored building. At first I had been intimidated by the size of the place and the amounts of well-dressed women milling about, but Michaela's high spirits soon took me over and I let her pile my arms with clothes to try on. It turned out that she loved shopping - and most of all, she loved shopping for other people. She enthusiastically flicked through different clothes on their hangers, holding a few up to see if they suited me.

I had never really been someone affected by fashion, but Michaela was full of rather useful tips about what type of clothes I should wear and how. When I let her dress me up in an outfit I would never have considered trying on, I was surprised to find that all of her judgements were correct and I actually looked...rather nice.

'The trouble is, you think you're still just an everyday girl and so you
dress
like an everyday girl - but now, you're higher up the ladder...which means you need to have a decent wardrobe,' Michaela told me confidently as she handed me another armful of clothes around the dressing room curtain.

When I had put on the tenth outfit of the day, Michaela expressed her great approval. 'What did I tell you? You look
gorgeous
in that!' she cooed happily. 'You were worried about your thighs before - but look, those straight jeans make your legs look way longer and slimmer.'

I snorted. 'Me? Long, slim legs?' I repeated disbelievingly, but it was only half-hearted. My reflection in the mirror looked very different; it was like I was looking at
another
me, one who looked casual but stylish at the same time - one who made it possible for others to believe that she was going out with a movie star.

' - and remember, back pockets always have to be high on jeans, 'cause that way they give you a very nice ass,' Michaela was instructing in a professional tone. I grinned and turned to her.

'I think I really like this one,' I told her happily.

Her face lit up. 'Good!' she replied. 'Now let's go and find you a dress.'

'A dress?' I repeated uncertainly. 'Haven't we already got one in the pile somewhere?'

She grinned. 'Oh, no, girl,' she said. 'I mean a
proper
dress. Connor's going to be taking you to parties and premieres, isn't he? You're going to need something to wear for them.'

So a short while later I was in a different changing room, trying on one dress after another under Michaela the Fashion Guru's critical eye. I must have tried on about twenty before she settled on a lovely green one and a rather slinky black one, both of which made me seem ready to walk red carpets. It was amazing; I had always thought I looked crap in dresses, but Michaela had proved me very wrong indeed...When we were done and I was putting my old clothes back on, grinning like a fool with sheer delight, a thoughtful look came into Michaela's eyes while I dressed.

'Just before we go, Lilly - have you got any decent undies?' she asked me shrewdly. 'Guys love nice lingerie, after all.'

I paused in my dressing.

'Um...'

Now here I was, back in Connor's penthouse, collapsed on the sofa in exhaustion but very happy indeed. I felt wonderfully optimistic now that I had an improved wardrobe - I hadn't been able to thank Michaela enough. I now felt like a better, more confident person...and I also wickedly wondered what Connor would think of the new underwear Michaela had helped me pick (which all apparently complemented my skin tone). Luckily he had left me some "pocket money" beforehand, obviously having anticipated a shopping trip at some point, and so I was easily able to afford clothes that I would have had to sell my flat for in a previous life.

That night I put on a pretty new nightdress, and went to bed at a more usual time, deciding not to bother staying awake. I carefully arranged myself
above
the covers, so that when Connor eventually came home he would not miss the delightful nightdress.
Maybe he'll even wake me up
, I cheekily thought as I closed my eyes, going to sleep with a great, big smile on my face.

Chapter 18

Win Some, Lose Some

As it turned out, however, I slept undisturbed the entire night - and on top of it all, I woke in an empty bed. I felt greatly disappointed by this; the covers were slightly rumpled and there was a shallow depression in the pillow beside mine that indicated Connor had indeed come back, but he hadn't woken me up to say goodbye when he had left. Frowning in annoyance, I got up and dressed myself before going downstairs.

When I entered the kitchen area, however, I was surprised to notice a little piece of white paper lying on the counter. Curious, I picked it up and read it:

"
Lilly
," it said in a vaguely familiar scrawled script, "
Sorry if I left without waking you up - you were sleeping so deeply that I didn't have the heart to! Besides, it's an early start this morning to get some scenes ironed out. Breakfast is in its usual place, and I've left you Michaela's number if you two want to go out again. You'll have to tell me about the park another time, I suppose...I'll try and be back sooner this time!

"Connor.

"PS: Nice nightdress you had on. Is it new?
"

So he had noticed, I thought fondly. Connor had even drawn a little smiley face beneath his note, which made me smile, too. I put it back down on the counter, and then went to make myself breakfast. Now, how would I amuse myself today?

Unluckily for me, finding ways to amuse myself was not that easy - particularly due to the fact that Michaela's phone line was busy when I tried calling. However, I was undaunted by this, and instead went upstairs to Connor's little office, in which there was a computer. How could I have forgotten about the world I had left behind? Julie and Kate must have already replied to that email I sent them before I left...

Feeling a little nervous, I busied myself over the computer, taking a good five minutes to work out how to turn it on. Eventually, after much puzzlement and tentative button-pressing, I succeeded in firing it up and opening the very up-to-date web browser. I quickly typed in the address of my email service and logged into my account. Sure enough, I had some new emails in my inbox.

One of them was just spam, which I deleted, but the two others were from Julie and Kate. To my surprise, it had been Kate who had managed to reply first, and so I opened up her email and read:

"
To:
Lillian Harwick

Subject: Re: Surprise... :S

LILLIAN HARWICK!!!!!!!! I cannot believe you!! Back with your celeb boyfriend and then off to
America
???? Girl, I thought you were trying to
take away
all your "tensions"! What the hell do you think'll happen if he ditches you for good in a foreign country?? I thought you were nearly as rational as Julie, but I guess I was wrong...Honestly, you really have changed, Lils.

Kate.
"

I grimaced, then my look of disappointment changed to a frown. Well, here was someone who obviously had not paid much attention to my valid arguments. It was just like Kate; she had picked out "back with Connor" and "off to America" and drawn her own conclusions from it. Oh, well - she had never been much of a supportive friend anyway, and I had Michaela now if I needed anyone here...

Now for Julie's reply. Bravely, I opened the email and read:

"
To:
Lillian Harwick

Subject: Re: Surprise... :S

Wow, Lilly. I don't really know what to say. Of course, I'm quite shocked that you've gone back to Connor, but I can understand why you've decided to do so from your explanation. If he went to such lengths to just talk to you that night then I suppose that's something.

I hope your mum didn't scare him off. :) You're right, Lilly, and I can see you've really thought about this. And it's always a sign when guys make confessions like that!

America...that's so far away! I hope you'll be able to cope. Email me as soon as you can, I'm beginning to miss you now!

Love,

Julie.
"

I blinked in surprise. Well! Two very different reactions...I hadn't really expected anything else, but I had been quite disheartened by Kate's reply. I was only glad that Julie had seen the sense in what I had said, and was not too annoyed at me.

I sighed as I sat back in the chair. Well, you win some, you lose some...

That evening, I was busy in the kitchen, clattering pans and starting to gather things for my dinner. I had more or less managed to get used to Connor's spotless, ultra-modern appliances, and was thinking about making some spaghetti with the bolognaise sauce I had found in one of the cupboards.
Dinner for one again, tonight
, I thought wistfully, busing myself with putting out spoons -

Suddenly, I felt the spine-tingling sensation of hot breath on my neck. Giving a yelp of shock, I reflexively jerked my arms up -

'
Ow!
'

I spun around. 'Oh, God!' I gasped. 'Connor!

'Aaaach, ma nooooohse...'

'I'm so sorry - I didn't see you! Oh God, is it bleeding? Ooh yes it is! Tilt your head back and pinch the bridge of it - I'll get some ice!' I flapped about uselessly, turning around, then looked back at him desperately. 'Where
is
the ice?'

'Fridge.'

'Oh, yes!' I rushed to the fridge and soon, with the aid of a cloth, I had made a cold compress which Connor put to his nose once the bleeding had been stemmed. When the panic had abated and I had sat him down upon the sofa, I noticed that he was laughing.

'You're a right feisty one, you are!' he teased, grinning at me. 'I come back nice and early and you give me a nosebleed in return.'

'I didn't
mean
to!' I said defensively. 'You just surprised me, breathing down my neck like that...'

He laughed. 'I was just gonnae
kiss
you, love,' he told me.

'Oh...' I was feeling rather guilty. 'Sorry.'

'Ah, it's nothing!' Connor said dismissively, taking the compress off his nose and rubbing the numb, pink skin. 'I've taken worse hits to the face. See, it's already better!'

'Hmm...' I replied, not that sure.

'Come here.' Quickly, he pulled me down to sit on his lap, and cocked his head to one side, smiling broadly at me. 'I feel like I haven't seen you in
ages
...'

'You haven't,' I reminded him. 'Last time I saw you, you were either asleep or on your way out.' My gaze focused on his nose, which was still a little pink. I touched the tip of it tentatively, in a way that was half an affectionate gesture and half a guilty evaluation of any damage done. He wrinkled his nose, then tilted his chin up to kiss my finger with a grin.

'You know what?' he said to me. 'The director reckons we'll be done shooting by the end of this week, since we've put so many hours into it - though we might be called back from time to time next week as well.'

'So you'll be here more often?' I replied happily.

'Yes, I will!' he answered firmly, a broad smile on his lips. I cheered and hugged him tightly, infinitely glad that I'd only have to endure a few more days without him. He chuckled, hugging me back just as tightly, then said musingly: 'Was that spaghetti you were cooking?'

'Hint taken,' I replied wryly, then got to my feet. 'Dinner for two coming right up!'

The following days were considerably less lonely for me, due to the fact that Connor was coming home slightly earlier and was therefore far less tired. He seemed so worried that he had been neglecting me, but I had assured him that I was absolutely fine and he shouldn't let it get in the way of his work. By the next Tuesday, Connor had completed the set schedule of shooting, and was finally free.

'That's it!' he announced happily on Tuesday evening as he walked through the door. 'Tomorrow I'll be here
all
day - and maybe even all of the day after, as well!'

'Hooray!' I cheered, skipping over to greet him. Connor gave me a heartfelt one-armed hug as he deposited a sheaf of paperwork onto a nearby tabletop, and grinned down at me.

'How about we go out and celebrate?' he offerred, an eager glint in his eye.

'I like the sound of that,' I replied, smiling up at him from against his chest. 'What do you have in mind?'

'Oh, just a drink or two, maybe...'

I woke groggily at about three o'clock the next morning, muzzy and disorientated. What Connor had described to me as "just a drink or two" had in fact turned out to be several rounds of celebration champagne. As a result, the entire night was just an indistinct blur in to me. I shifted weakly beneath the rather untidy sheets, trying to remember what had happened. Obviously Connor and I had left the little bar at some point, judging by the fact that I was here in bed at his penthouse. Sluggish memories struggled to rise through the fog in my head...I vaguely remembered the pair of us half-falling through the front door, locked in a rather passionate embrace. The champagne had somehow stoked a raging fire in me, fuelled by all the frustration of not having him around for so long. After that, though, everything was embarrassingly blank.

I turned over, facing Connor, and found him also awake, his head turned towards me. When I met his gaze, he gave me huge grin, made slightly worrying by the wondering admiration in his eyes. I had a horrible feeling that I had surpised him in some way last night...

'What?' I asked, unsure about that great big breathless smile on his face. 'What happened?'

'Don't you remember?' he said, a trace of amusement in his voice that did not reassure me.

My embarrassed silence indicated to him that I had no distinct recollection. He gave a laugh, turning over onto his side.

'You tired me out, that's what happened,' he told me, chuckling. 'I never knew you had an aggressive side!'

'...aggressive...?' I repeated quietly, already mortified. 'Oh, God...I hope I didn't do anything...stupid...'

'Stupid? It was quite...interesting,' he replied, and for the first time I noticed that one of his socks was hanging from the lampshade. 'I vividly remember you saying you were going to "teach me and my arrogant bedroom skills a lesson".'

'Oh...' To my embarrassment, I began to vaguely recall that phrase.

'I never knew that you thought me too proud of my "bedroom skills", as you put it,' Connor continued musingly. 'Should I try and be more modest, then?'

I didn't reply; more convoluted memories were coming back.

He went on: 'You certainly surprised me when you undid my fly with your teeth -'