Swell (2 page)

‘This may be news to you, Bailey but the Sixties are over. I’m afraid we’re athletes these days.’

I looked at him questioningly and smiled.

‘So?’

‘So what?’

‘So you didn’t give me an answer. Are you a successful professional surfer, Jason Cross?’

His silver eyes met mine and sparkled.

‘Before I tell you, how about that date?’

I studied my nails and shrugged.

‘Sure, but if it turns out you’re a complete loser I might decide I’m washing my hair.’

He smirked.

‘I am twelve-times champion of the world.’

I had died and gone to heaven, on a platinum surfboard paddled by an angel.

‘Oh,’ I whistled, ‘just twelve times?’

‘Yes, twelve. I’m chasing my thirteenth title in December in fact.’

I crossed my arms and caught Jason’s eyes moving swiftly over my chest. I tried to control the tremor in my voice caused by the seismic activity between my legs.

‘Lucky for some.’

‘Hopefully for me. So, are twelve titles enough to get me a date, Bailey Brown?’

Now Brown was such a dull name in Britain but the way he said my name made me sound quite delicious.

‘I suppose the date is on.’

‘Great. Tell me where you live and I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven.’

I told him.

‘Perfect. Now how about I show you where I live?’

The second I met his gaze I knew exactly what he meant. Back home where I was sensible Bailey Brown who avoided risks at all costs, I would never have considered sex on a first date. Sex
before
the first date would unquestionably be the most dangerous thing I had ever done, far outranking my previous personal best of eating magic
mushrooms at the age of sixteen. Well, I say ‘eat’ but to be honest, it was more of a lick. It still counts. I had felt distinctly woozy for at least thirty minutes.

It was either the effect of the grab-opportunity-with-both-hands attitude in L.A., or the fact that I felt my life was running downhill to a non-climactic finish that gave me the sudden urge to be impetuous. Whatever the reason, before Jason had the time to say please and with my head pounding as loud as my heart, we were heading for his car.

CHAPTER TWO

‘Jason you bastard!’ the girl screamed, leaping towards him like an attacking panther.

She was another of the party’s lollipop girls - big head on a stick-like body too petite to contain vital organs - but she packed a punch. Before I could react, Jason Cross was lying flat on his back in the driveway, straddled by a Polynesian beauty who was hitting him about the face with a Jimmy Choo stiletto.

‘Ouch, won’t that damage the heel?’ I shrieked, straining to see whether the man of my dreams still had both eyes.

‘Get off me, Portia, you’re crazy,’ Jason shouted, fending off the blows.

‘I’m gonna kill you.’

I had the feeling she meant it.

‘Somebody help?’ I suggested to the crowd that had gathered behind me.

They glanced at their fingernails, women and men alike, as if weighing up the cost of a manicure against Jason’s untimely demise.

‘I knew you were fucking someone,’ yelled Portia. ‘You told me you were gonna fix us and here you are leaving the party with some fucking whore.’

‘Charming,’ I said behind Portia’s tiny back, ‘at least I’m not a stiletto wielding psychopath.’

Still astride Jason, Portia whipped her head around and stared at me with cat-like eyes.

I flinched.

‘Just for clarification purposes, I’m not actually a whore,’ I said.

‘English,’ Portia spat as if that explained everything.

‘Portia, please, let’s talk about this,’ Jason pleaded, straining to push her off him.

I was surprised by how much he seemed to be struggling considering my head probably weighed more than her entire body. She clearly had the strength of a woman scorned.

‘I don’t wanna talk, I wanna kill you.’

‘No you don’t, baby,’ Jason reasoned, ‘you love me.’

Her tears fell like hailstones on his grey cashmere jumper. I shuffled my feet, feeling more uncomfortable by the second as the chemistry fizzed between them, if a little too explosive to be healthy. Behind me, a chorus of gossip buzzed around the crowd. I could feel their eyes burning into me as they wondered about the trouble-making English whore in their midst.

‘How can you fuck her as soon as I leave town?’ Portia wailed. ‘She’s just a dumb groupie, Jason.’

‘Groupie? I’m not a groupie, I didn’t even know who he was.’

A laugh coursed through the crowd.

‘Don’t give me that shit. The whole world knows who he is.’

‘Make that the whole world minus one,’ I said.

‘She’s no groupie,’ said Jason, grasping Portia’s wrists, ‘in fact she’s a writer. You’ve got it all wrong, Portia. Bailey is…’

‘Bailey? What sort of dumb name is that?’

‘Pot, kettle,’ I muttered.

‘Bailey is actually a novelist,’ Jason pressed on. ‘She’s working on a project here, with me. In fact she is actually my biographer.’

Genius, I smirked, aware my own street credibility had just jumped several storeys with the onlookers.

‘Your what?’

‘Biographer,’ I repeated in Jason’s defence. ‘It’s someone who writes books about people.’

‘Huh?’ she growled, whipping her head around again.

Even overcome with rage I had to admit she had the most naturally beautiful features I had ever seen.

‘Books,’ I said, ‘they’re funny little things made of paper. You might remember them from school.’

Only Jon’s timely arrival and quick thinking saved me from having a Jimmy Choo implanted in my forehead. Which at least would have meant I owned one if not a complete pair.

‘Jesus, Bailey, you’ve got a mouth on you sometimes,’ Jon hissed, pulling me to one side.

‘I couldn’t help it,’ I shrugged, ‘she’s far too pretty for her own good.’

The audience was visibly disappointed when a seriously tall, lanky young man with slicked back hair the colour of a Bordeaux red wine and a loud suit to match pushed his way to the front. An entourage of burly men followed.

‘Back in your cage, Portia. Give TS a break you freaky bitch.’

He yanked her off Jason and plonked her onto her single shoe.

‘Jason’s manager, Chuck,’ Jon explained under his breath. ‘He hates Portia.’

‘Chuck?’

‘It’s short for Charles.’

‘Right. Maybe our own Prince Charles will become King Chuck.’

‘There’s only one King Chuck and it’s that fellow there. He controls the affairs of the most legendary man in surfing. Jason can pretty much ask for anything he wants and Chuck will make it happen.’

I smoothed down my hair and watched Chuck drag Portia away from the scene into an awaiting SUV with smoky windows.

‘Well this is one affair he won’t be controlling because it’s over before it began.’

‘Glad to hear it.’

‘Unfortunately,’ I sighed.

I watched with dampened spirits while Jason regained his composure among his entourage who stood protectively around him. Crowded together they looked like a set of expensive leather luggage. Jason was a stunningly handsome, fit and evidently successful man but I might have known there would be a catch. I felt ashamed I had put myself in such a humiliating situation on the one occasion I had relished the chance to be impulsive. Now the promise of my first sexual encounter in months had lit me up like a firefly and I was struggling to douse the flames.

‘I mean it, Bailey, don’t get involved,’ Jon warned, obviously sensing the hormones prickling my skin.

I flicked my hair as nonchalantly as I could manage.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Jon pushed his designer glasses up the bridge of his nose.

‘Let me tell you about people like Jason Cross, Bailey. You don’t come across many men like him. He’s glamorous, adrenalin-fuelled, sexy and dangerous.’

‘And the down side is…?’

Jon took my elbow and guided me away from the scene and back towards the house.

‘These professional surfers are a law unto themselves, Bailey. They travel the world for ten months of the year. They’re rich, they get everything they want for free, their office is the ocean and many of them, at least the ones that aren’t married, have groupies in every port.’

Lifting two glasses of free champagne that had been flowing like tap water all night, Jon flopped onto a white leather sofa as soft as marshmallow and motioned for me to sit.

‘Jason Cross is the kind of guy women leave their husbands for and then regret it when he’s had his fun and moves on to the next bikini babe in the next destination, leaving them single and forever labelled as a desperate groupie. Please don’t be one of those girls or I will have to reconsider our friendship.’

I shifted on the sofa.

‘You sound like you know him well.’

‘I know people who know him.’

‘So in fact this could be pure speculation and idle gossip.’

Jon creased his face into a frown.

‘I know people who have had their fingers and even more delicate parts burned.’

I crossed my legs.

‘Personally, I think it sounds fascinating but don’t worry about me, Jon, you know me. I’m far too safe for those sorts of shenanigans so you can rest assured that I am never going to sleep with Jason Cross. Largely because he has a girlfriend who probably kills baby animals for fun and but also because I have morals.’ I paused. ‘Although you must admit he is hot.’

‘Hot as in you will be the next to get burned.’

I ran my tongue across my lips and grinned.

‘Possibly, but just a quick sizzle would have been fun.’

CHAPTER THREE

The party was once again in full swing. Impossibly perfect women draped themselves over the arms of rich, powerful and famous men. Those with a coke habit queued to use one of the seven bathrooms, leaving a layer of fine powder behind as if the CSI team had been in to fingerprint the joint. The networkers spun webs of influence around the house like spiders on the hunt for unsuspecting flies. On the one hand it all seemed incredibly fake but, on the other, there was a lot to be said for the opportunity to forge a bible of contacts at a single party. Mingling with the important and self-important people of L.A. I suddenly felt alive and within sniffing distance of opportunities that did not exist back home. There was a reckless world out there and I thought if I learned how to go with the flow, perhaps I could join them and start to live a little. As far as I could see, dwelling on negative Amazon book reviews from housewives in Hampshire was not living.

‘This is a funny world you live in, Jon but I kind of like it.’

‘Stay,’ said Jon. ‘Write a screenplay. You’re talented and I know plenty of people in the film industry. See that guy over there…’ - I glanced over at the man with glossy salt and pepper hair who was in the process of licking the salt to accompany his tequila slammer from the artificial cleavage of a cute young thing - ‘… he’s the hot new director in town.’

‘He should cool himself down a few degrees, she’s young enough to be his daughter.’

‘She is his daughter,’ said a familiar voice.

I spun around to see Jason smiling pleasantly down at me as if Portia attempting to murder us both had been nothing more than a hiccup.

Jon groaned.

‘Not really,’ Jason winked, ‘but knowing what goes on in this town, she could be and he just doesn’t know it yet.’

Jason reached out a bronzed hand and took my empty glass.

‘Can I get you another one?’

He had no qualms about ignoring Jon completely, which seemed to be a regular occurrence at this party. These people had neither the time nor the inclination to waste valuable conversation on people they had no use for.

‘I don’t know.’

I glanced at Jon who rolled his eyes at the ceiling.

‘Please, Bailey, I want to explain,’ said Jason.

Don’t worry
, I mouthed to Jon.

I won’t but you should
, he mouthed back before I followed Jason out to the pool bar.

As I walked behind him I felt the eyes of every woman we passed piercing my skin like sharpened daggers. This man was clearly their very eligible bachelor and I was an unknown quantity, doubtless disrupting their future plans to be Jason Cross’ wife.

The stars reflected in the glistening pool as if they were floating on the surface.

‘This is quite something,’ I breathed, filling my lungs with air perfumed by sweet champagne and the scent of beautiful people.

‘You’re quite something,’ Jason said softly.

I looked into his eyes that were just inches from my face. His lips were soft and full and his skin closely shaved. He clearly took care with his appearance but something told me it was not a difficult task to keep Jason Cross looking delectable. His breath was warm against my skin as he leaned closer. The hair on the back of my neck stood up like the fur of a startled cat in response to the aura of quiet confidence he exuded.

‘You’re unbelievable,’ I said, lifting my hand and placing it between us on his searching lips.

‘I know,’ he winked.

‘You’re not suffering from low self-esteem, I’ll give you that. Mummy must have told you every day what a special boy you were.’

‘Mummy was dead,’ he said.

‘Oh I am sorry.’

He shrugged.

‘Don’t be. My life was not perfect but then it gave me the drive to get out of there and get to where I am today. I’ve got no regrets.’

Jason tilted his head at me and his fingers drummed the side of his champagne flute.

‘But I do regret getting you caught up in all that crap before. Portia can get a bit crazy, but you must understand she’s my ex. We’re not…’

I lifted a finger to silence him.

‘You don’t have to explain, it’s fine.’

‘It’s not, you’re angry with me.’

‘No,’ I said, pausing to think, ‘I just came to my senses. Sex after five minutes is never a good idea.’

‘It’s better than sex that only lasts five minutes.’

‘Does it ever last longer?’ I laughed.

‘Would you like to find out?’

‘Jason, I’m sorry but I am not going to sleep with you,’ I said firmly. ‘I make it a rule not to sleep with men who lie to their crazy exes to pass me off as their biographer.’