Unlikely Love: A Romance Single (13 page)

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since you met him at that party in Paris. He wasn't there by chance. His management have been paying you, and you've been paying his management for photo opportunities. It's a headline trade-off.”

Delilah felt sick. Everything they said about her was true. She was nothing more than a puppet to them. A way to make money. It wasn't about the music, it was about the men she was making rich.

“Cancel his trip,” Delilah barked at him, “the deal is off.”

“I can't,” Marcus shook his head, “don't make me.”

“Listen here, Marcus,” she leaned into Marcus's face and pointed her finger sternly at him, her voice as scary as she could make it, “you cancel his trip or I'll be finding myself a new assistant.”

“You wouldn't,” the fear filled his eyes.

“I would, and I will.”

“Tony told me if -”

“Tony put you up to this?”

“It was his idea from the start. He wanted to make you big in Europe and he knew André would help.”

It had all been a sham from the start, and what made it worse, André, Tony and Marcus were all in on it. She wondered how many people at the label knew. Were they all laughing at the '
arrangement
' when she was thinking that a world-class model was interested in her?

“Cancel it,” she repeated again, “I'm done with this bullshit.”

Pushing past Marcus, she tried to contain the anger as much as she could, but when a runner handed her a microphone to go through the routine one more time, she almost ripped his hand off at the wrist. She burst through the dancers, knocking a girl to the ground as she tried to stretch.

“What are we waiting for?” she barked into the audience.

When the music started up, and the lights lowered on her, she caught sight of Nolan walking back into the studio, with a confused look on his face.

After the rehearsal, the producers told Delilah they didn't need to do anymore. It was only a Euro Dance song, but Delilah sung it like it was the last song she'd ever sing. All her anger and hatred funneled through the song, to the point where she was screaming out the lyrics. At some points, she stepped out of the choreography to do her own thing, which only caused confused looks from the dancers. The minute she stepped off stage, the applause started again, but she didn't care for it.

It was fake.

It was a sham.

Everything about her was a '
concept
' created by somebody else, and she'd just been dropped into it.

Was it because Nolan had pointed it out, or was it because she was sick of people making decisions for her? She was sure it was a combination of both, but the more she looked at Nolan and thought about her life back in LA, the more she found herself being driven towards him.

The entire drive back, Marcus stayed deadly silent in the front, and Nolan fidgeted in his seat, clearly sensing the atmosphere. Outside of the hotel, Marcus jumped out of the car and practically ran towards the entrance.

“What's up with him?” Nolan laughed awkwardly as the car drove away.

The sun was starting to set on the sleepy street, and the shops were all shutting up. Men sat on bikes outside of the hotel like usual, and their eyes were trained on Delilah more than usual. Her hair was still huge, and her makeup was still pretty much intact, but she'd swapped the skimpy outfit for her comfortable vest and shorts, and she was glad when Nolan offered his jacket to her. It wasn't like she was cold, but it was nice to cover up after spending the entire day semi-naked, singing and dancing.

“They got his order wrong at
Starbucks
,” she mumbled, “or he broke a nail. I can't keep up.”

Nolan laughed, but she could tell from the way his eyes fixed on her that he didn't believe her. How could she tell him the truth without coming off like the bad guy?

They stood awkwardly outside of the hotel, moving from side to side as people hurried up and down the sleepy street. Julia marched out of the hotel and started brushing the front steps. She harked her neck back and spat onto the street, and as if nothing had happened, she carried on with the brushing. Their eyes met for a second, and it clearly took a moment for her to recognize Delilah, but when she did, she filled with disdain and her slightly hairy top lip curled up.

“Have you got any plans tonight?” Nolan asked.

The shadows of his face in the darkening street made him look even more masculine and stronger than ever. She'd never met a man who looked somewhere between tough and nerdy, with such a warm personality.

The mesh didn't seem to fit, but it worked.

“I need to wash all of this off,” she circled her finger around her face, “and then I'm probably just going to get an early night.”

“Right,” he nodded, “you'll be tired after today.”

She nodded sheepishly back to him and dropped her eyes to the pavement. Julia started to brush behind her, and she was sure that the owner was brushing the street dirt purposefully in Delilah's direction.

“What about you?” Delilah asked politely.

She felt uncomfortable. She was somewhere between wanting to pull him in for a kiss and wanting to run and hide from him. Her mind wandered back to what they'd talked about amongst the sunflowers. Nolan didn't like cheats or liars, and Delilah felt like the biggest fraud ever.

“Well,” he started, leaning in slightly and lowering his voice, “I was hoping we could spend it together?”

“Oh,” she mumbled, still not able to look him in the eye.

“But I guess you're sick of me after spending the whole day with me.”

He couldn't have been further from the truth. She was embarrassed that he thought that, because she felt the complete opposite. Was that really the vibe she was giving off?

“I'm just really tired Nolan,” the more she said it, the more she wanted to yawn.

She was tired, but for Nolan, she could easily go without sleep. Did she trust herself to spend the night with him and not mention what she'd found out? How could see keep looking in his eye when she knew all along that she had someone else? Arranged or not, André and her were an '
item
' as far as management and the press were concerned.

“I'll let you get your beauty sleep then,” he winked and smiled, but the smile looked disappointed, “I'll walk you up to your room.”

They walked in a strange silence. A voice in her head was screaming out to her, telling her to grab the chance to spend time with him. Their days in Spain were numbered and she wanted to spend as much of it with him as possible, but her heart was the one that was stopping her.

When they got to her door, they stopped and Delilah looked at the ground for a moment.

“Are you sure I can't tempt you?” Nolan scrunched up his brows.

It was obvious he was fighting with himself. He looked like he didn't want to beg, but it was obvious that he wanted to spend time with her as much as she did.

“I'm sure,” she said before she had chance to think about it.

Time alone would give her time to think, and time to figure things out. Marcus wasn't likely to bother her all night, and Nolan would be on the other side of the wall. Too close, and too far away, all at the same time.

“I guess this is goodnight then,” he shrugged reluctantly.

They hovered. Do they hug? Do they kiss?

“Night,” she smiled as she pulled her key from her bra.

“Goodnight Delilah,” he bowed his head and headed towards his room.

She watched as he slotted his key into the lock. He lifted his head and half turned towards her. His lips parted, but no sound came out. Whatever he was going to say, he stopped himself and went into his bedroom.

Inside of her own room, she clutched her hair. She could have screamed and kicked the walls down. She wanted to go straight after him, but she didn't know where it would lead.

She wanted him so bad.

She wanted to talk to him.

She wanted to spend time with him.

She wanted to touch and kiss him.

She wanted him more than she'd wanted anything in her life.

Peeling her vest over her head, she kicked her shoes off and dropped her shorts to the ground. In the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror. Under the florescent lighting, she didn't look sexy or hot like she had done in the dressing room, she looked caked in makeup and terrifying. She looked like a clown with lips drawn on too big and eyes too wide. Sighing, she undid her bra, casting it in the sink, soon followed by her underwear.

The water warm water trickled wearily over her, and she let it run through her hair and across her face. The clown washed away. She'd never been more eager to transform back into her plain self. The force of the shower may have been weak, but it washed away the stress and anger, letting her think clearly. She decided that she was going to apologize to Marcus, because it wasn't his fault. He could have let her in on the secret, but he was clearly terrified of disobeying Tony.

As she lathered shampoo into her dry and product filled hair, her mind wandered to Nolan, but she was quickly distracted by a loud banging. At first, she thought somebody was knocking on the door, but it happened again, even closer. The banging traveled through the ceiling and down the wall, until it reached the shower. She wiped the eyeliner from her eyes just in time for a burst of cold water to hit her in the face. Jumping backwards, she waited for the shower to go back to normal, but each time she kicked her foot in the path of the suddenly powerful water stream, it was even icier.

“Fuck,” she mumbled, ripping the shower curtain back, wiping away the shampoo suds that were trickling down her forehead.

As she wrapped a towel around her waist, she caught sight of herself in the mirror, and she looked even more like a clown than before. Dark smears of black makeup had ran down her cheeks, and her red lips were suddenly all over her chin. She fished her underwear out of the sink and cast it into the bedroom, but the water from the tap was just as icy as the shower.

With the towel tucked under her arms, keeping her breasts concealed, she popped her head out into the corridor to make sure the coast was clear. Tip-toeing as fast as she dared she dripped cold water all over the cracked, cream tiles. She hovered at the top of the stairs and let out another '
fuck!
' when she realized she'd not even bothered to ask Marcus which room he was staying in. Could she really go down to reception to ask Julia where he was? She imagined how amused Julia would be at her soapy hair, panda eyes and joker mouth.

The decision was clear. She could brave the cold shower, or she could brave facing Nolan.

***

Perching on the edge of Nolan's bed, it was like she'd been transported into another hotel. His room was a lot cleaner, his bed was comfier and he even had a small TV mounted in the corner. It wasn't much, but it was clear he'd been given the journalist treatment. Even his shower was more powerful than hers.

“Thanks again,” she smiled at him as she towel dried her hair.

“Stop thanking me!” he laughed.

He sat in the corner of the room, swallowed up by a large wicker chair. He was wearing the same half-open shirt from earlier, but he'd changed into a pair of very baggy short shorts. She tried not to, but her eyes kept drifting up through the gaps in the legs, and she was sure that he wasn't wearing any underwear. The way he was sitting with his hands rested behind his head made his arm muscles bulge out.

“How much do you work out?"

“Every day, normally,” he smiled, resting his hands on his stomach, “Gotta keep this thing firm.”

“You're not like the other gym junkies I meet. Usually bone heads on steroids.”

“No steroids here,” he patted his firm abs through the loose shirt, “I don't really work out for the look, I just enjoy it.”

“Enjoy exercise?” she laughed as she wrapped her hair up in a towel.

“Some people do,” he smiled, flashing his dimples, “I joined the gym when I was going through the divorce. It kept me all leveled.”

“What did you look like before?”

“A typical 20-something year old man? I had a gut and two chins.”

Delilah tried to imagine a porkier Nolan, but the image wouldn't come.

“Well, you look good,” she made sure her towel was firmly tucked around her breasts.

If he was any other man, she'd drop the towel and jump on him, but things still felt weird from earlier on.

He jokingly tensed his arms, making the solid peaks pop out. She doubted it was supposed to be sexual, but it made her stomach lurch forwards.

“I guess I better leave you to it,” she stood up, securing the towel once again.

“Are you sure you don't want to do anything tonight?” he quickly jumped up from the chair and stood face to face to her.

Towering over her, she felt exposed wearing nothing but a towel. Did she really have the willpower to say no?

She ducked out of his way and walked towards the door, but before she reached out for the handle, she found herself spinning back around, fighting her instincts.

“What did you have in mind?” she closed her eyes and rose her eyebrows.

“Well, there's a little restaurant in town I've been dying to try.”

A dinner date.

That was simple enough, wasn't it?

No sunflowers or motorbikes.

“Give me 20 minutes to get ready.”

“I'll meet you outside in 10.”

He winked cheekily at her. She was about to protest, but the way he was smiling at her wouldn't let her object. He could have told her to do anything right then, and she would have.

As she quickly started to blast her hair off with the tiny hairdryer attached to the wall in her bathroom, she told herself she wasn't going to let André ruin anything.