The Mighty Storm (15 page)

“
Wow, Jake … um … wow, that is so nice and incredibly thoughtful of you, but you didn
’
t have to go to any trouble for me.”

“
I didn
’
t. I pay other people to go to the trouble for me, Tru.”

“
Oh.”

Shit, I am so way out of my league here.

He pulls his cigarettes out. “You mind if I smoke?”

I shake my head and watch as he lights a cigarette up.

I can
’
t exactly complain about his smoking around the food, when he
’
s just had said food flown in on an aeroplane. From Paris.

Jesus Christ. This is me getting a little glimpse into just how much pull Jake Wethers actually has.

But he
’
s just so erratic.

He takes me for a simple dinner to Pizza Hut
–
well maybe not simple, as he did hire the place out
–
but still, it was Pizza Hut. And now today, he
’
s flown in mini cakes from Paris.

I feel like my head is spinning from just being around him. I don
’
t remember him been this confusing when we were younger.

Straight talking, yes. Confusing, no.

“
So what does your boyfriend think of you coming on the tour?” he asks out of the blue, taking a sip of his coffee.

And there
’
s the straight talking.

“
Um … I … um … he doesn
’
t think anything yet, because I haven
’
t had a chance to tell him.”

That
’
s a lie. I
’
ve had all morning to ring Will and tell him, but I
’
m not sure how he
’
ll take it, so I
’
m putting it off until tonight when I
’
ve fed him and seduced him, then I
’
ll tell him.

Suddenly the idea of seducing Will while here with Jake, doesn
’
t feel alluring at all. It actually makes me feel quite unwell.

“
I
’
m going to tell him tonight when I see him,” I add.

He puts his coffee down and takes a drag of his cigarette. Then reaches down and picks up an ashtray from off the floor beside his chair, placing it on his thigh, he taps the ash into it.

“
Are you doing anything nice?”

“
When?
”

“
Tonight.”

“
Oh, um, no, Will
’
s just coming round to my flat to have some dinner.”

He
’
s staring at my face, his own impassive.

“
How did you meet him?”

“
I knew him from uni and we bumped into each other on a night out a few years ago. He asked me out and we
’
ve been together since.”

“
But you don
’
t live together.”

“
No.”

“
Do you think you
’
ll marry him?”

What? Personal much.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I hate it when he starts being direct like this.

I feel like I
’
m up for a job interview, I
’
m just not actually sure of the job. Unless he has another one lined up for me that he
’
s also not told me about.

For want of something to do with my fidgety hands, I dip my finger in the cream of my half-eaten bun again and pop it in my mouth.

I notice Jake staring at my mouth.

I quickly pull my finger out, and dry it on a napkin. “Well I was proposing marriage to you a few minutes ago,” I laugh. He doesn
’
t.

“
I don
’
t know,” I shrug, turning serious. “It
’
s not something I
’
ve thought about. I guess I don
’
t really see myself ever getting married.”

He has another drag of his cigarette and slowly blows the smoke out from between his lips, tapping his ash into the ashtray.

“
Why?”

I shrug again, looking down.

I
’
m not going to tell him that I don
’
t think any guy would ever ask me.

“
I always figured you
’
d end up with a musician,” he says, in a low voice.

I look up at him surprised.

Surprised that he even considered that about me.

“
So how long are you in the UK for?” I ask, for want of a subject change.

“
I
’
m flying back to LA first thing in the morning.”

“
Oh,” I say, disappointed he
’
s leaving so soon. “Do you have a private jet?” I ask, being nosey.

“
Yeah. It
’
s the label’s.”

“
You mean the label which you own.”

“
Hmm.”

Bloody hell, he’s got his own private jet.

“
So the next time I see you will be at the tour.”

“
Yes.”

I feel quite sad that I
’
m not going to see him for two weeks.

“
Some best-friend you are,” I pout, jokingly. “You do remember that in the contract for being my best friend it has a beck-and-call clause in it don
’
t you. I mean what if I need … I don
’
t know
–
chocolates from Belgium, who
’
s gonna get them while you
’
re off in LA. I don
’
t know Jake, I might have to seriously consider trading you in,” I grin.

He chuckles, amused. “Don
’
t worry, I
’
ll make sure you don
’
t miss me.”

“
I never said I
’
d miss you.”

“
You never said you wouldn
’
t.”

God, he
’
s so bloody quick. I
’
m getting whip-lash just sitting here with him.

“
I just want you for your cupcakes,” I say jesting. “And talking of cakes, will you help me eat some of them before I scoff them all and get seriously fat … and while you
’
re at it tell me about the tour too?”

“
I can
’
t ever imagine you
’
d get fat, Tru … but your wish is my command.”

And he grins in that sexy way he does; the one where I definitely know there
’
s something going on behind it, I
’
m just not entirely sure what, as he leans forward and picks up one of the cakes.

Will
’
s at the door with a bottle of wine in his hand, looking as handsome as always.

“
Hey,” he says pulling me into his arms, he kisses me firmly on the mouth.

“
Hey yourself,” I smile up at him.

He releases me and I walk back down the hall and into our living room. Simone
’
s out with her work colleagues tonight so it
’
s just me and Will, and I have big plans of seduction for him, and then to tell him about working for Jake and the tour.

“
Are you ready to eat now? Dinner
’
s ready.”

“
Definitely, I
’
m starving .What are we having?”

“
Lasagne,” I answer heading for the kitchen.

Will follows me into the kitchen and sets about opening the wine, while I dish up the lasagne.

I carry both our plates through to the living room, putting them down on the coffee table, while Will brings through the wine.

I sit down on the floor and Will sits opposite me.

I take a sip of my wine, watching Will as he tucks into the lasagne.

“
This is good,” he says. “You make the best lasagne ever.”

“
Thank you, baby.”

Seeing as though he
’
s happy with my culinary skills I decide to tell him about the tour now.

I spoke to him this afternoon on the phone, he
’
d called when I was out at lunch so I called him back. For some reason I didn
’
t tell him I
’
d had lunch with Jake. I think mainly it was because I would have had to tell him about the tour and I wanted to do that tonight. He did quiz me about my night with Jake though, naturally, which I also downplayed quite a lot.

He scoffed when I said we
’
d been to Pizza Hut. It really annoyed me to be honest, he can be such a snob at times, so I didn
’
t even bother to explain the relevance of it to Jake and me.

“
So I was … um … offered this amazing opportunity at work today.”

“
Oh yes?” he says, forking lasagne into his mouth.

“
Well … Jake … Wethers has asked the magazine to cover his official biography … and well … he
’
s asked me to write the bio.”

“
Really? That
’
s wonderful news,” he says.

“
Yes it is. But … um … the other thing is that to do so I
’
ll have to go on tour with the band, you know to follow Jake around, write about the tour and the band. Especially as it
’
s their first tour without Jonny.”

Will
’
s brows knit together. “So you
’
re going on tour with Jake Wethers?”

“
Yes, and the rest of the band.”

“
So my girlfriend
–
my very beautiful girlfriend is going on tour with a bunch of musicians, one of whom is Jake Wethers, the notorious womaniser.
”

“
Yes,” I say, mildly. “But what Jake is or isn
’
t is, is of no relevance to me.”

“
Even though you used to be best friends growing up.”

“
Which was twelve years ago.”

But doesn
’
t feel like Jake and me have been apart at all, we
’
ve fallen back in line with each other with such ease. I omit that though.

“
And if I said I didn
’
t want you to go …”

“
Well I kind of hoped you wouldn
’
t want me to go but…”

“
You
’
d still go anyway.”

“
Yes. It
’
s an amazing opportunity for me, Will.”

“
Hmm.” He nods. “So how long would you be gone?”

“
The tour
’
s for seven weeks in total, with a two week break after the first three in Europe. Then it
’
s four weeks in the US and Canada, then done.”

“
So you
’
ll be gone for three weeks to start with.” He sounds unhappy.

I nod. “But I will do my best to get home if I can.”

“
And you
’
ve already said you
’
ll definitely do it?”

“
Yes. The magazine really needs this. And this is a published book I
’
m talking about here, writing a book on a band like The Mighty Storm will be huge for my career. It could open up all kinds of doors for me.”

“
But why ask you? You
’
ve never wrote a book before.”

Wow, thanks for the support.

“
No, but I have been writing for a long time, and there is first time for everything, Will. You know maybe Jake actually thinks my writing is good, and he
’
s a good friend so he thought he’d help me out by giving this opportunity to me. You know supporting me in my career
–
which was what I was kind of hoping you would do.” I drop my fork onto my plate with a clatter.

“
Sorry,” he backtracks. “I am supportive and I
’
m pleased for you, it
’
s just a little out of the blue, and I
’
m sad that I
’
m going to have to be without you for such a long time.”

Sighing, I get up, and walk around to him and sit in his lap. He puts his fork down on his plate and wraps his arms around me.

“
The time will fly by, baby,” I say, kissing his cheek. “And then I
’
ll be back home and everything will be back to normal. Except I
’
ll be writing a book.” I can
’
t help the smile that spreads across my face.