Page 12 of Hollywood Crush (West Wales Romance #2)

“Hello, can I help you?” asked Samara, the florist. She wore a hijab that matched the colourful floral displays in the shop perfectly.

“Hi, Samara.” I reached over the counter to give her a quick hug. “Just showing him around.”

“Oh my god, is that…”

“Yes, yes it is. Don’t make a scene.” I tried to keep my voice low but obviously Daniel heard, as he froze for a second with his back to us before he continued to browse. After another minute, he looked up.

“Can you save these for me? They’re beautiful, but I forgot my wallet.” He patted his pockets as if it might magically reappear, then gave Samara that Hollywood smile.

“Of course. When will you be back for them? Did you want delivery?” Samara practically threw herself over the counter to help him.

“I’ll be back in a few hours, I’ll arrange delivery then.” He turned to face me. “Sorry, Tudor. Were we on a schedule?”

“Just a little bit,” I replied with a small smile. I’d made sure Mam knew we might not be back for an hour or so, just in case we had any people stopping Daniel in the street. I hadn’t realised that it would be him holding us up.

“Come on then,” he said, immediately exiting the shop and turning right back towards the hotel.

“Wrong way,” I grabbed his arm and pulled him to face the right way. Without much subtlety, he pulled his arm away from mine.

“Sorry,” he muttered, all trace of Hollywood smile gone. “Just…cameras.” And his eyes darted around as if there might be paparazzi hiding in bushes somewhere.

“That famous?” I asked. I tried to keep the smile on my face, but it hurt a little bit. It hadn’t even been like we were holding hands. Was it that bad just to be seen with me?

“The…the opposite, in fact,” said Daniel.

He continued to walk alongside me as I looked resolutely ahead.

“Well, more a fear of the opposite. I might have my fans, but I’m not untouchably fa mous.

Or infallibly rich. I have to work every day to earn my keep, and Sandra, my agent…

she says if I’m seen to err one way or the other my career will be toast. I just did a film in Ireland which will be releasing in the next few months, about a gay farmer… ”

I blushed. It may have been a trailer I’d watched a few times and a film I was very much looking forward to.

Daniel continued. “Anyway, a film about a gay farmer in which I would play the love interest. Sandra hit the roof. Thinks that playing a gay character could tank my career. So I jumped at the big, high-paying fantasy role. She thinks it could set me up for life if the series does well.”

“I see, so you can’t be seen to be gay in public?” I asked.

“More, it pays to keep people guessing, I think. Can’t be too close with men or women, when I do, to make sure they’re famous and to invite the paparazzi.”

“That sounds exhausting,” I said. We were passing the local pub and had come almost to the end of the village proper. “Why do you do it?”

Daniel stopped, and it forced me to stop at the same time. “I…I don’t know, sometimes. I love to act. I love being creative. It feels recently like I’m Sandra’s cash cow, if I’m honest. And it’s only this show that’s making me all that much cash.”

“So you’re telling me all those films, all those sponsorship deals…and you’re not making much money?”

“Well..” Daniel hesitated. We had begun walking again without me even noticing.

The lanes that led to the garage were quiet as always.

You could walk an hour further away from the village and not see another soul sometimes.

“I do make some money, but after Sandra’s cut and the publicist she hires, and my accountant, and the stylists for the odd red carpet…

I probably have a year’s worth of living expenses squirrelled away. ”

“Would be nice to have a month’s worth squirrelled away if I’m honest.” I had said it without thinking, but Daniel grabbed my arm.

“You have an entire film production retaining your hotel for months and you don’t even have a month’s cash in hand?” Daniel sounded shocked.

“It’s not so bad…with all the renovations, extra equipment for the kitchen and gym, we’ve broken even. Once you’re all out I’ll have a hotel that’s been entirely renewed and hopefully a bit of dollar from tourists who love the show.”

“And a season 2,” said Daniel. “We might be back and you can negotiate a higher rate.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, peasant.” I smiled at Daniel and he smiled back. He glanced behind us and around again, then took my hand as we walked. I felt my heart flutter like a teenager.

“Do we need to talk?” I asked .

“If you’d like. No pressure though.”

“Right….I’m sorry about what went on the other night. I really had only meant to show you the conservatory and my cooking skills. I hadn’t started the night with the intention of jumping you. It was really unprofessional, and I hope you don’t think worse of me.”

Daniel held up our clasped hands. “Does it look like I’m thinking worse of you?”

“Well, no. I mean… I guess not.” My whole psyche was focused on our hands now, and I couldn’t think of what to say next. What did he want? What did he need ? They were answers I didn’t have, and questions I didn’t know how to ask.

“What do you want?” Daniel asked before I could formulate my own question.

“I honestly have no idea,” I said. “If you want, we pretend that night never happened. I go back to being your uber-professional hotel manager, you go back to being an actor who doesn’t look twice at me.”

“There was never a time I didn’t look twice at you. I thought you were gorgeous the second I clapped eyes on you.”

“Did you steal that line from a film you starred in?” I asked.

“No,” Daniel said. But when I looked at him he blushed. “It was a TV series, actually.” I laughed loud enough that a robin in one of the bushes to the side of us twittered angrily at me before flying away.

“Look at you, pissing off the birds,” he said.

“Usually only happens when I tell them I’m more interested in blokes.”

“Stick to the day job.”

“I intend to.” We grinned at each other again. It was almost infectious, smiling with him. Even if I knew my smile couldn’t possibly compare to that winning Hollywood grin. My teeth had never taken very well to braces, for a start.

“But to answer my own question,” started Daniel, “I don’t know what I want. It’s rare enough that I get to pick what I do want myself. Someone else picks what films I get parts in, what I wear, what to promote, where I get to stay.”

“Good for you I have a bossy streak then,” I replied.

“I would never have guessed.”

We walked in silence for another minute. “Do you actually want us to forget what happened? Go back to nothing?”

“God no,” I blurted before I could stop myself. I was once again keenly aware that we were still holding hands and how nice it felt. “Sex with you was…something else. It was great. And I don’t get to do that much.”

“Me neither. I don’t know from one minute to the next who’s going to leak an affair to the press, or sell pictures of me whilst I sleep.”

“That’s gross, and I’d never do that to you. I’ve got strong morals…and also I had to sign an NDA with my contract. Can’t spill any juicy goss from the divas up at the hotel.”

“Not even Marjorie’s marshmallow fetish?”

“ Fetish? We just thought she was eating a box a day. You’re meaning to tell me she-”

“Don’t finish that sentence unless you want to know. The truth is more disturbing than anything you can possibly imagine. I walked in on her in her trailer with a marshmallow stuck up her-”

“-No. That’s enough. I don’t need to know any more.”

The garage was coming into view now, a slightly run down shack just off the beaten track. It was an eyesore, but the parish council didn’t bother with it because it was so far out from the town proper.

We stepped over the low wall of tyres in unison and Daniel dropped my hand. It hurt a little bit, but at least I knew why now and I could tamp down the sting with some rational thoughts.

“Alun!” I shouted. There was no reply. I stuck my head in through the car entrance. The garage was dark at the back and I could see very little. “Alun!”

“Alun’s out with Alaw, canoodling on the beach or whatever it is straight people get up to these days.

” A figure detached itself from the darkness.

Instead of Alun, it was Macsen, his one-time apprentice and now right hand man.

His overalls were tied around his stomach and he worse a vest that revealed the extent of his many tattoos.

He was wiping down greasy hands on a rag that he threw aside and held out a hand for Daniel to shake.

Daniel looked bemused before he took it.

“I think the last time we had anyone remotely close to a celebrity in this village it was the Welsh Poet Laureate,” he said. “Had all the old ladies creaming their knickers. Now I think it’s all of us gays who are doing that.”

“My god, Mac,” I shook my head. He was 25 years old, and his confidence often crossed a line into cockiness.

“What? Just saying.” He looked Daniel up and down like a piece of meat.

Some would say that Macsen was attractive - he was muscular and wiry after years spent lifting tyres and heavy equipment, and was tattooed all over his arms. I didn’t know actually how many tattoos he had or where they stopped and I suspected I might be one of the village’s few gay men who could attest to that.

I preferred my men a little more clean cut, prim and proper. And not as bloody cocky.

I stepped slightly between Macsen and Daniel as I held out the cheque. “Alun said it had passed its MOT?” I asked.

“Yup, this should cover it.” Max took the cheque and went to the back of the garage and came back with a hand-written receipt and keys. “All your documents are in the glove box.”

I nodded my thanks and turned to go. “I hope to see you around, Mr Ellison,” said Macsen .

“It was…” Daniel hesitated like he didn’t know how to finish his sentence. “…a pleasure meeting you.”

The van sat just outside. It was a garish yellow with the hotel’s name emblazoned on the side.

Mam had bought it when she first came into possession of the hotel and it had somehow survived the intervening 30-odd years with just a couple of catastrophic failures.

We couldn’t afford for it to break down completely.

“Sorry, I guess you’re used to chauffeurs. Just me and Fran the Van today,” I said.

“Fran?”

“Don’t you name your car? Fran is basically part of the family.”

“I’ve never learned to drive. Doesn’t seem worth it, living in Manchester and being driven whenever I’m on set.”

“I’ll teach you some time,” I joked. We both clambered into the van, and sat without a word as I turned the engine on with a stutter and pulled out into the country lane.

It was Daniel who broke the silence. “I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but…what do we do going forward?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’m not one for hook-ups, but I’d have you again if you asked. And I want you. And I like you. And…” And I need you.

“Yes. All of that.” Daniel rubbed his hands together and when I looked over briefly I could see he was chewing his lip, a rare open show of anxiety from the film star. “I guess…I don’t do permanence. But I want something that lasts more than one night. If that makes sense?”

“Not at all,” I said honestly.

“Well…I like you. But I can’t stay here. I have a career that takes me here, there and everywhere and once this month is up and I’ve finished filming I’ll be back to Manchester.”

“I know that,” I said. “So…what do we do? Keep it casual?”

“We keep it casual. I want to spend more time with you, inside and outside the bedroom.”

“And then…when filming is over in a month or so, you’re gone. We may never see each other again.” I tried to keep my tone light and casual. It was one thing to want to spend more time with Daniel, it was another to find myself wanting to keep him here.

“That sounds like a plan to me. I’m sorry we can’t be more public with things, it’s just…”

“No, I understand.” I said. I would have dabble however he wanted me, on his terms. I would just keep it casual and pick up the pieces when he was gone.

◆◆◆

Hours later, after Daniel had gone back up to his room and most of the cast and crew had retired to their rooms, I was cleaning reception with my mother when a knock came at the big double doors. Samara’s daughter Nadia was struggling under the weight of a massive bouquet, and Mam ushered her in.

“Which of the stars has such a big fan then?” Mam said. “I bet it’s Marjorie. She’s always getting older admirers.” She looked at the card on the flowers and her expression became completely inscrutable. “Thanks, Nadia.”

She took the flowers and put them on the counter. I checked the card. In Samara’s neat cursive, Tudor was written. I remembered Daniel asking Samara about a bouquet earlier in the day and felt my cheeks heat up.

“Seems you have a secret admirer,” Mum said.

Fucking casual. If Daniel kept this up, keeping it casual would be impossible.