The Mighty Storm (9 page)

“
You have nothing to be jealous of.”

“
He
’
s a rich good-looking rock star. I
’
d have to be a little stupid not to be jealous.”

“
That he may be.” I take hold of his hand and kiss his palm. “But he
’
s not you. And I love you.”

That seems to appease him as his face relaxes a little.

I release his hand, allowing him to pick up his sandwich.

“
How long is he in town for?”

“
A few days.”

That seems to please him further.

“
I guess it will be nice for you to catch up seeing as though you were childhood friends.”

And I loved him.

Covering my thoughts with a smile, I omit that thought and say, “So, as I
’
ve let you down two nights in a row for my friends now, I
’
m going to do something special tomorrow night to make it up to you.”

His brows rise. “I
’
m intrigued. Go on.”

“
I
’
ll leave it to your imagination, and then tomorrow night you can tell me if I fulfilled it.” I grin at him.

“
You never fail to make me happy, Trudy, and I can
’
t see that changing anytime soon, so I
’
m sure whatever you have planned will live up to my already high standard of you.”

That is so sweet. And now I feel kind of crap for having no clue what I
’
m going to do to make it up to him tomorrow night. I
’
m going to have to come up with something awesome.

I pick my panini up and take a bite.

Will walks me back to my office building, giving me a long lingering kiss before leaving me.

I head through the lobby and take the stairs up. Our office is only on the second floor and the exercise is good for me.

Going bright red at the whistles from my colleagues, I
’
m guessing Vicky
’
s already told them about my interview with Jake. I quickly drop my bag at my desk and head straight to her office.

She
’
s deep in concentration reading something on her computer screen when I knock on her open door.

Her eyes brighten when she sees me and she smiles. “Sit down and tell me all about the dirty boy of rock.”

I frown at her. I know Jakes got a reputation but I don
’
t like her calling him that.

“
He
’
s not so much a boy, Vicky.”

She raises her perfectly plucked eyebrow. “And what does that mean - pray tell?”

I feel like I
’
m about to have a chat with one of my girlfriends over cocktails about a guy I just went on a date with. Not about an interview I just did with a celebrity.

I love that I have this kind of relationship with Vicky.

I drop myself into her chair across from her desk. “It means that people seriously underestimate him, Vicky. Yes, he
’
s singer in a band and he sleeps with lots of women
–”

“
Did he say that?” She looks at me hopefully. Another exclusive in mind.

“
No,” I laugh. “That
’
s just it
–
he
’
s very careful, consummate about what he does say. He seems to ask questions, more than answer them
–
don
’
t worry I got plenty off him
–”
I add at her worried expression. “It
’
s just …” I pause searching for the right words. The ones that have been evading me ever since I was with him. “I guess he just … might act the dirty rock boy, out there.” I gesture. “But I feel that behind the scenes he
’
s very much the
man
–
the one who is very much in charge of what happens
–
as it
’
s been said before by the few people who have interviewed him.”

“
So you think the women, the partying, it
’
s all an act?”

I shake my head. “No. I just think there are two-sides to Jake. The young guy who is very much living the lifestyle he is privilege too, but then there
’
s the business Jake, the one who runs his label and his band exactly the way he wants to and is very good at it.”

“
So the incident in Japan…”

“
Expected I
’
d say. His best friend and business partner had just died. Add that on top of the quick rise to fame he had, the money he has
–
my guess is it just all got a little too much, and unfortunately his fall was in front of thousands of people.”

Wow, I
’
m actually sounding smart here. A first for me.

“
Hmm.” Vicky leans back in her chair. “So is he as hot as hell in the flesh as he looks on the TV?” She grins and I know the serious, journalistic aspect of our conversation is gone for now.

“
He
’
s … a little good-looking, sure.” I downplay.

“
A little good-looking,” she scoffs. “Yeah I
’
m sure that
’
s all he is.” She purses her lips, like something has just occurred to her. “And he
’
s asked you out for dinner tonight?”

I was wondering when she was going to mention that. Nothing slips by her. Ever the journalist.

“
He did. Just a catch up.” I shuffle forward in my seat, getting ready to make an exit.

“
I bet he
’
s after a
thorough
catch up with you.”

“
Vicky!” I screech, then cover my mouth with my hand, releasing how loud that was. “I can
’
t believe you just said that,” I add in a quieter voice, peeling my hand off my mouth.

“
What?” she laughs. “Look at you– you have a face and ass to die for. And him? Well, good grief. He’s so delicious I could serve him up on toast and eat him … and he is well known for his
antics
.”

“
Yeah, well I
’
m not, and I do have a boyfriend remember?” I
’
m a little snippy, but it doesn
’
t seem to faze her.

“
Yes, well we
’
re all as clean as whistles my darling until men like him come along and dirty us right up.”

She winks at me, grinning, relieving the tension I
’
m feeling.

“
You
’
re incurable.” I shake my head humorously at her, rolling my eyes. “And I don
’
t see him that way.”

She presses her lips together and narrows her heavy lined eyes at me, suspiciously at me. “Yeah, sure you don
’
t.”

“
And how did the lovely William take the news of dinner with Jake? You did tell him, didn
’
t you?” She raises her perfectly, plucked eyebrow. I sometime get the impression Vicky doesn
’
t like Will.

“
Of course I did.” I sound defensive, I
’
ve no clue why.

“
And?”

“
Nothing. He was fine with it.”
After a while.

She lets out a little laugh. “He was fine with you going out to dinner with the most beautiful, prolific womanising rock star in the world?”

I press my lips together and let out my breath through my nose. “He was fine with it, because there
’
s nothing in it. It
’
s just two old friends having dinner and nothing more.”

“
If you say so my darling.” She brushes her hand through her hair.

“
It is,” I chipper. “Now if you
’
re finished grilling me, I
’
m going to do the work you pay me to do. I
’
ll type up a draft of the interview and have it ready for you to look over by the end of the day.”

“
That would be fabulous, thank you, my darling.” She leans back in her chair and brushes her hair off her face.

Giving her a light smile, I turn and sashay my way out of her office, away from her quizzical stare, because she
’
s a little closer to the truth on everything then I would care to admit. Jake, my reaction to seeing him after all these years, and Will
’
s reaction to the news that I
’
m seeing him tonight. But mostly, how I feel about seeing Jake tonight. And the only word I can think to describe it is … exhilarated.

Okay. I
’
m having dinner with Jake.

Jake Wethers.

But he
’
s still just Jake … the same Jake I knew.

No he
’
s not
–
he
’
s now rock god Jake.

Oh crap.

I
’
ve been ready for the past half an hour and have been pacing around my flat ever since. I
’
ve had a large glass of wine already and am starting on my second, trying to calm my nerves.

And Simone
’
s not here to help either. She was so gutted when I told her Jake was coming to the flat to pick me up. She
’
s working late on a project for this new client of hers and couldn
’
t get out of it.

Maybe it
’
s best she
’
s not here, I
’
m freaking out as it is. Simone is a big Mighty Storm fan, so she
’
d be freaking too, making me worse.

What on earth am I going to talk to him about tonight?

I know, I
’
ve known Jake a long time, but I knew him back then. Not now.

Now he
’
s a mega rich superstar. And I
’
m just a lowly journalist working for a small, up and coming magazine, with enough money to pay the bills and fill the cupboard with enough food and wine to get me through the week.

He probably earns in an hour what I do in a year.

I
’
ve stayed in exactly the same place and Jake has sky rocketed to the stars.

We live in two very different worlds. I don
’
t know anything about his life now, except what I
’
ve read in the papers.

I wonder if he still likes the same things he did when I knew him?

Of course he doesn
’
t. Do I still like the same things I did when I was fourteen? Nope. Well, except for kids cereal. Coco Pops are awesome.

I
’
m just wondering once the step back in time has dried up, what on earth will we talk about. We are so worlds apart now. Our childhood aside, what else is there?

I
’
m just hoping the childhood stories will somehow stretch us through the night.

I gulp down another mouthful of wine.

The doorbell rings. It
’
s a minute after eight. If nothing else, he’s punctual. And here was me expecting him to be rock star late.

Putting my glass down, I pick my handbag up, get my keys and wobble on nervous legs to the door.

When I open it, he
’
s standing there looking all kinds of gorgeous, wearing dark blue fitted jeans, Converses trainers and a pale blue shirt which is rolled up at the sleeves, top buttons open, his tattoos on show.

And once again, I suddenly feel totally of out of my depth.

“
Hi,” I say.

“
Wow. You look great.”

I flush. “Thanks, you too.”

I
’
m doing a little mini-dance inside.

This dress was totally worth it
–
okay, so I might have popped to my favourite clothes shop, Dixies, after work and bought the dress I
’
ve been eyeing in the window for the last few weeks. The dress I couldn
’
t really afford at the moment
–
so, thank you Visa.

It
’
s not to impress Jake or anything, I mean it
’
s not like we
’
re going on a date, but he
’
s rich and I wanted to look nice. And the dress is so damn cute.

It
’
s a black shift dress with silver embellishment all over it, and so totally me. I
’
ve teamed it with my black heels, and silver clutch bag, and I left my hair down and curly, and kept my make-up minimal, how I always wear it.