Just a Fan (27 page)

'Please!' I couldn't take any more mortification, and put a pillow over my pounding head, shutting him out. Connor, however, refused to be ignored in this manner, and kissed my shoulderblade.

'Lovely undies you had on, though,' he remarked.

'Thanks.'

It took a great deal of persuasion from Connor's part before I was finally reassured that I had
not
made a fool of myself, and that he had quite enjoyed everything, despite the fact that he had been unable to find his other sock the following morning. In the end I managed to tell him about Central Park and my new friendship with Michaela, and he was very happy indeed to hear that I had managed to have fun in his absence. I told him bashfully about the surprise shopping trip, and he laughed, then told me in turn: 'Well, that's great, because there's something I almost forgot to tell you about...'

'What?' I asked, curious to hear.

'There's going to be a little party on Saturday,' he said. 'It's in celebration of the twelfth anniversary of a leading clothing company, which my manager says would be an ideal event for us to attend.' He gave me a wink. 'George and Michaela will be there, too.'

'A party...?' I was slightly hesitant, but Connor gave me a winning grin.

'You know Michaela would want you to show off what she's got you, hmm?'

The room was large, but filled with small clusters of well-dressed people, all milling together and socialising. I had never been much of an outgoing person; I still felt a little shy when faced with so many people. However, with Connor's tall, reassuring form close beside me, I didn't feel as lost as I normally would have. That man certainly did work miracles on me...

'George should be here somewhere...' Connor murmured, looking over the crowd. I kept near to him as he led me through the room and past the buffet tables. It had been very strange indeed to be prepared this morning and then photographed outside the venue by the press. I had only seen pictures of smartly-dressed people on their way to VIP parties...I had never imagined that one day
I
would be in those photos, wearing a pretty dress and smiling deliriously at the arm of Connor MacGowan in his elegant dark shirt. And he had been perfectly right when he had told me about the blinding effect of all the lights and flashes, which I was still blinking off...

As we drifted through the room, I noticed that Connor's presence was having an certain effect on the other guests. Soon people were gravitating more towards us, even the minor celebrities centering around Connor. He was amical with all of them; I think he knew most of the people there, even though he didn't let it on to me. It made me proud, in an odd way, that so many people admired him -

Then, somewhere to my left, I heard someone say: 'Connor's here? Connor
MacGowan
? Oh my God! Where? Where? Oooh!'

A few seconds later a woman bounced over to us, making way for herself among the others chatting with me and Connor. She was slightly taller than me - particularly due to the fact that she was tottering about on rather ridiculous heels - and her chestnut hair was cropped in a very fashionable bob. She had slight features that may have been deemed nice-looking, but I didn't really admire her that much at first glance because of her pushy approach. I had never really felt at home with overly loud women...

'Connor!
Hi
!' she squealed, as if greeting an old friend. Connor, however, I noticed was not as enthusiastic - he maintained a polite but friendly distance, and I could tell from his reaction that this woman was acting as if she knew him better than she really did. 'Do you remember me? We met last year backstage at one of my shows!'

'Of course I remember,' replied Connor with a charming smile. 'It was even filmed, I think.'

The woman laughed. 'Oh, yeah! That was great!'

Connor turned to me, then said with a pointed look in his eye: 'Lilly, this is Jocelyn Tate - you've met her brother Francis before.' I nodded, trying to mask my surprise. This was Jocelyn Tate? Annoying little twit Francis' sister, who probably still had a thing for Connor? I should have known. 'Jocelyn, this is Lillian Harwick, my girlfriend.'

At the word "girlfriend", Miss Tate looked ready to swallow her smile. She stared at me for a full second with raised eyebrows, as if unable to believe he was in a relationship with
me
. Then she seemed to recover, and said to me: 'Oh, hi.'

Even though her words were light and perfectly civil, I could almost see the thought bubble above her head that said: 'Eww.'

'Nice to meet you,' I lied with a smile. Jocelyn turned to Connor.

'I never knew you had another girlfriend,' she said to him, putting an odd emphasis on the word "another" to make it sound like a veiled insult to me.

'Well, now you do,' replied Connor, seeming a little uncomfortable for my sake.

'Um...could I talk to you for a second?' Jocelyn asked casually, then glanced at me. 'In private?' Connor looked at me too, uncertain whether to leave me by myself.

'Go on,' I said to him, deciding to stop being shy. 'I'll be fine - I'll just go and look for Michaela.'

Connor shrugged, and then grudgingly let Jocelyn lead him away. I watched after them, then took a breath and made my way through the crowd.

Seeing as I was not that much of a well-known person yet, nobody stopped me for a chat like they had Connor. I didn't particularly mind this; in fact, it relieved me, since I was able to search for Michaela and George unhindered. I walked past the buffet tables, systematically searching the groups of people for a familiar face. Where could they be?

I began to feel mildly uncomfortable as I realised that I hadn't told Connor where I would wait for him. However, I reasoned that he wouldn't be too difficult to spot since he was so tall, and when he had finished talking to Jocelyn he would definitely come looking for me -

'Er - hi. Lillian Harwick, right?'

I turned, and found myself unexpectedly face-to-face with Jocelyn herself. That had been a quick chat she had had with Connor...

'Yes...' I replied, cautious of the sour look on her face.

'Connor's gone to get a drink, in case you were wondering,' she told me, brusquely answering my unasked question.

'Um...OK, then,' I said hesitantly. 'Thanks.'

Jocelyn stared at me for a few long seconds, lips pressed together in disdain, then said bitingly: 'Look, let's be honest, here. I'm not going to
pretend
that I like you, because I don't. Truthfully, I have no idea what the
hell
Connor was thinking when he asked you out, since he has so many more deserving admirers here.'

'
Excuse
me?' I was outraged at this woman's sheer nerve to insult me like that. I didn't even
know
her! Who was she to speak down to me in such a way?

'Listen, I don't know who you think you are, but I have had my eye on Connor for
way
longer than you,' she snapped. 'If it wasn't for my fricken' stupid brother, we'd be an
item,
here. You can't just step in and take him like that.'

'Well, I'm sorry, but I already
have
,' I hissed, getting angry now. 'Do you think I
care
that you had a "thing" for him? We've gone through so much together, him and me, and you're a complete idiot if you think you're going to put me off!'

'Oh, honey, I think you're forgetting something!' simpered Jocelyn with a fake laugh. 'You're not exactly the
first
in line...how do you know that's not what Connor's previous girlfriends said?'

'Don't you
understand
?' I growled in outrage. 'I
don't
care
! And besides, you're doing all this for nothing - I don't think Connor even
likes
bitchy little cows.'

Jocelyn's mouth fell open, and then she gave a mocking laugh again. 'Ooh, that
hurt
,' she said with heavy sarcasm. 'Well, you can say all you want, but at least I have
connections
. I can make your life hell, if I want to.'

'And I can get a fork from the buffet table and shove it down your -'

'
Go back to your crappy little country
!' snarled Jocelyn, cutting me off. 'You don't belong here! And most of all, you don't belong with -'

'Hey, what's going on?'

Another woman came up to us, looking concerned for me. A tall woman, with long legs and golden, wavy hair...

My mouth fell open.

'- better things to do than be bitchy to people,' the woman was saying to Jocelyn.

'You stay out of this,' Jocelyn spat, and then turned and finally left. I stood there, still staring at the woman who had just saved me.

'...
Jess
?' I said weakly.

Jess Carlston beamed at me. 'Hi, Lilly,' she greeted me warmly. 'It's great to see you again. I hope that Tate girl wasn't being too horrible...'

'I'll live,' I replied, hardly able to believe she was here. '...Thanks so much for making her leave.'

Jess laughed. 'Oh, it's OK,' she said. 'She needs putting in her place sometimes...anyway - how's things with you? I never expected to see you here...I only met you once before, I think, and we didn't get much of a chance to get to know each other...'

'Yes, we saw each other at the Red Terrace in England,' I answered, distantly remembering that day so long ago when I was still so nervous around Connor, and Jess had inspired such jealousy and worry in me. Now I was seeing her with different eyes; she no longer seemed threateningly beautiful - she just appeared very friendly.

'You're going out with Connor now, aren't you?' she asked me conversationally.

'Yes, I am,' I replied with a smile, feeling a familiar warm flutter in my stomach at the reminder.

'So that explains why Miss Tate was being so harsh...' Jess remarked. 'If I was you, I'd watch out for her. She's been showing off her crush on Connor in just about every interview she's had during the past year. She might stir up trouble...'

'I'm sure I'll be fine,' I reassured her. 'Connor's really supportive, and it'll be hard to get past him...'

Jess chuckled. 'I know he is,' she replied. 'Ooh, I think that's him by Mr Fielding over there. Well, Lilly, if Jocelyn ever gives you a hard time, I'll be here to help out, OK?'

I smiled at her gratefully. 'Thanks,' I said, really touched by her friendliness, and then went off to find Connor.

I wondered what that Jocelyn had said to him...

Chapter 19

Interview

When asked about Jocelyn Tate's little "private talk" with him, Connor rolled his eyes expressively. 'Oh,
God
...' he laughed. 'I should have guessed that she would be here. She's become more unshakeable and annoying than ever...'

'But what did she say that she didn't want me to hear?' I pressed him, curious.

'I think she just took me away out of spite, to be honest,' Connor told me, long hands in his pockets. 'And because she wanted to have a few words with me...'

'Like what?'

Connor shook his head dismissively. 'It's not important,' he reassured me. 'What matters is that she knows now I'm not the guy I used to be, and she had better keep her distance.'

'Oh,' I replied, still a bit bemused, but deciding to leave it at that since he obviously wasn't going to tell me directly.

'You know, I was talking to a journalist just now,' Connor remarked, changing the subject and turning his head to glance over at a group of people to his right. 'Anita Lewis, I think she's called, and she's been asked through my publicist to write a magazine article about us.'

My eyes widened. 'An article?' I repeated in surprise. Connor grinned.

'You're still a bit of a mysterious person to the general public, Lilly,' he reminded me. 'People want to know about you. That's why we've been asked to give a little interview together. It'll be in private, so you don't need to worry...'

'What magazine is it for?' I asked him, still hardly able to believe it. Connor's dark eyebrows drew together, and he squinted his pale blue eyes in thought.

'Star Something Weekly, or something cheesy along those lines -'

'
Starwatchers Weekly
?' I squeaked. 'Are you serious? I don't know how many copies of that magazine I've seen at the newsagent's...'

'The interview entails a little photoshoot, too,' Connor added quietly.

I gave him a helpless look. 'But I look crap in photos!' I panicked. 'I'm not photogenic at all -'

Connor gently put his hands on either side of my face, stilling my worried flapping.

'
Lilly
,' he said in a soft, reassuring voice, 'there's nothing to be nervous about. They'll take care of hair and makeup and things, and you'll look just fine. The photographer will also suggest poses...and besides, I'll be there with you, too.'

I found my panic curbed by his soothing words. Maybe I really was worrying about nothing...

'Let's go and talk to her, eh?' he offerred, then took me by the arm and led me away.

The half-dreaded, half-anticipated interview took place two days later, and before the journalist even came through the door I thought I would die of anxiety. Connor had offerred to have the interview at the chic, distinguished little bar where I had met George, Michaela and Francis for the very first time, to provide a more laid-back venue, but even here I felt slightly nervous.

However, when the journalist, Anita Lewis, arrived at our quiet table, I felt my nerves diminish a little. Miss Lewis was a fresh-faced young woman in a smart jacket, with her hair tied back in a stylish manner, and she looked perfectly friendly. Although at first I was a little shy of her professional-looking clothes and no-nonsense handbag, I then noticed as she greeted us and sat down that her movements were a little feverish, her bright smile a bit breathless, and her hands slightly shaky. As soon as I realised she was probably just as nervous as I was however well she hid it, I felt considerably more relaxed. I completely empathised with her excitement and anxiety; she was, after all, interviewing a very compelling, world-famous actor - and judging by the brightness of her eyes, it was her very first interview with somebody like Connor.

Miss Lewis got a notepad and pen out of her bag, as I had anticipated, but once Connor had ordered us all drinks I hardly even noticed the interview was taking place. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was just as if we were having a simple conversation, only with Miss Lewis asking most of the questions and occasionally scribbling down notes. Connor was infinitely friendly and casual, and I did my best to imitate his effortless ease, at the same time itching to see what she was writing down. She asked us a few questions about how we had met, and we willingly supplied the anecdotes. She seemed very surprised indeed to hear that I had never been more than just a fan of his, and that we had met completely by accident. She also enquired about what it was like for me with Connor away filming so often, so I told her about the lovely penthouse I had all to myself when he was away. She and Connor both laughed at this, and after a few more questions and another drink, the interview was over.

'Thanks so much for your time,' Miss Lewis said vehemently. 'It's been really great to meet both of you. Oh - and the photoshoot at Keith Jackson's is scheduled for the day after tomorrow, if you can make it.'

'Thanks, we will,' Connor assured her.

'Nice to meet you,' I said, and she smiled.

'Bye, then!' replied Miss Lewis, and then left us. Connor turned to me, beaming.

'What did you think?' he asked me. I smiled back optimistically.

'I think that actually went quite well!'

The next day was unfortunately another shooting day, so it was with a heavy heart that I said goodbye to Connor for another long stretch of time. However, it was actually made bearable by the fact that Michaela considerately invited me out again, to go sightseeing.

'You can't have been in New York for an entire week and not seen all the sights yet,' she reasoned. And so off we went in her smart little car, through the congested, straight streets of Manhattan and its vicinities, setting off on a grand tour of the city. It was better than I had ever dreamed it; everything looked just like it did in the posters and photographs I had seen of this busy place. We passed through Times Square with its multitude of bright logos and advertisements, and went on south to see the famous Empire State Building, as well as Soho and Tribeca.

'I've heard of Tribeca before...' I told Michaela with a pensive frown, trying to remember.

'Maybe you've heard of the film festival there?' she supplied. 'Connor's been down there a couple of times himself...'

I was just about pressing my nose against the window as we journeyed on, with Michaela acting as my tour guide for the trip. Being a "news anchor", as she called it - which I assumed was the American equivalent of a newsreader - she seemed to be full of information on all the areas we passed through. She had an endless supply of little anecdotes as we went along, as well, and I found myself thoroughly enjoying her company.

We got as far as Brooklyn before Michaela looked at the digital clock on her dashboard and cursed. 'Three already?' she groaned. 'I'm sorry, Lilly, I guess our tour ends here for the moment - I've got a report to hand in.'

'Oh...well, that's OK,' I assured her. 'I had a lot of fun.'

As we turned around and made our way back to Manhattan, Michaela said: 'You know, George is free today. I hate to think of you all on your own up in that penthouse - anyway, George would love to have a chat with you. I'll call him in a while and arrange it, shall I?'

Connor's friend George was waiting in a small café not far from Central Park, and Michaela happily dropped me off there so he could keep me entertained. I was tempted to tell her I didn't need entertaining, but I didn't have the heart to - she was such a friendly creature that I just had to go along.

'I'll come and join you in an hour or so!' Michaela told us, then, giving George a quick peck on the cheek, rushed out again to her car. George blinked, then recovered and smiled at me.

'So, Lilly, how are you?' he enquired.

'I'm fine,' I replied. 'I just got treated to a big tour.'

'Did you get as far as the Statue of Liberty?'

I laughed. 'No, not quite,' I answered regretfully.

There were quite a few other people in the café with us, and I found it a bit crowded despite its very nice décor. George, however, didn't seem bothered.

'I'm guessing Connor's back on set?' he asked.

'Yep,' I answered grimly. 'But he told me he's more or less finished filming, so he won't be gone for much longer. He'll be free tomorrow, and we've got a photoshoot to do...'

'What was that?' said George, leaning closer not hearing me over the noise of some other group of people.

'We've got a photoshoot to do tomorrow, me and Connor,' I repeated, a little more loudly.

'Oh, right,' George replied, nodding. 'It's your first photoshoot, right?'

I bit my lip with an anxious smile. 'Yes,' I said. 'But Connor's going to be with me, so it should be OK.'

'Good, good,' said George, then picked a menu off the tabletop. 'Fancy a cappuccino while we wait for Michaela?

Our photoshoot was scheduled early in the afternoon on the following day. It was far more nerve-wracking than the interview, no matter how many times Connor teased me to make me laugh. The photographer, Keith Jackson, worked in a professional studio, where the two of us had been invited to go.

The room where the photos were taken was surprisingly bare; there weren't any furnishings at all apart from a patterned backdrop, and many huge lighting devices. As we walked into the room, I did my very best not to stare, and to mimic Connor's detached professionalism. He had obviously done this a thousand times, which I could clearly tell from the loose way he chatted to the photographer. I felt another surge of excitement as I realised again that I was getting another in-depth look at Connor's world, the world that nobody but his friends and peers knew about. It definitely wasn't the world an ordinary person like me was used to. After a brief patching-up done by some business-like makeup girls, Connor smiled at me encouragingly and took my hand, leading me in front of the big backdrop.

I turned to face the photographer, and was immediately blinded by the bright lights that were positioned all around. I couldn't see anything, let alone the bloody camera. Squinting, my vision completely obliterated by the glare, I wondered where I was supposed to look if I couldn't see anything.

'Connor, I
cannot
see the camera...where is it?' I murmured out of the corner of my mouth. Connor chuckled.

'Don't worry, pet, he's just testing the lighting out,' he told me. 'He needs to check the intensity of the light for the flash, or something like that.'

'Oh...' I mumbled, then, sure enough, Jackson the photographer dimmed the lighting apparatus to a softer and more atmospheric brightness. As the red-blue-black spots across my vision faded, I could clearly see where the camera was. I smiled at Connor, and found myself greatly admiring his clothing for the shoot. He was wearing a rather lovely dark blue shirt, unbuttoned at the top, with even lovelier black trousers. With his glossy curls combed back into submission, he was almost too beautiful to be true. I felt the familiar butterflies in my stomach; not only was I going to see Connor at one of his oh-so-alluring photoshoots, but I was going to be
in
one with him!