Love notes (19 page)

“Get out,” she screamed,
desperate to be alone. “I can’t bear to look at you.”

Marty shrugged. “Don’t get
settled. Thirstan knows you’re here so we’re moving out to
Claridges. Your luggage is already on its way over there.”

Erika reacted furiously. “Don’t
I have any say in this?”

“No. The sooner we shake him
off, the better. And don’t call him from the house phone either.
All calls are logged and, if you send so much as a carrier pigeon,
I’ll know about it.”

“You can’t do this.” Anger
restored the strength that ten minutes with Marty had stripped
away. “You can’t take me prisoner.”

“I’m not. You’re free to go at
any time but consider what a spell in prison would do to your
friend’s reputation.” When Marty saw she wasn’t following him, he
took great delight in explaining. “I’m a firm believer in insurance
so I bought a copy of the car park security tapes giving me a
crystal-clear shot of your man assaulting me. I still have the
bruises to prove it and a medical report backing up my story. All I
want now is an excuse to call the police.”

“You can’t. I’ll say he acted in
my defence.”

Marty pulled a face. “That’s not
what it looks like on the tape. All you can see is a man, twice my
size, pinning me up against a car and threatening to beat me to a
pulp.”

Scorn contorted Erika’s
beautiful face. “You’re the most dishonest and twisted man I’ve
ever met but this sinks to new depths, even for you. You’ll never
get away with this.”

“Play ball and we’ll never need
to find out. But one single attempt to see or speak to Aiden
Thirstan and I’ll pick up the phone to call the cops.”

He meant what he said. She’d
been a fool to believe she could defeat Marty and overturn her
contract. Whatever Aiden did, Marty would always be one step ahead
of them, hedging his bets and covering his tracks until there was
no way left to turn but his way.

“And if I do as you say?” she
asked.

“I’ll finish up my business here
and we can be back on a plane next weekend. Before you know it,
everything will be back to normal and this guy Thirstan will be
nothing more than a bad judgement call. In fact, I’ve even bought
insurance there too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ben Ridley’s in London
promoting his new film. By the time I’ve finished with the story,
all the newspapers who ran your picture will be telling the world
that Ridley’s flown in to salvage your relationship. A lover’s
tiff. A passionate reconciliation. The golden couple back together
again.”

“We’re not a couple!”

“No. And neither are you and
Thirstan. After all, it’s difficult dating someone behind
bars.”

Erika’s temper finally snapped.
“You’re a prize bastard, Marty.”

“So what? You’re a lying bitch.
Maybe we were made for one another.”

Marty had secured Erika a suite
with a piano at Claridges, saying it would give her chance to work
on the studio arrangements for the new songs, but the thought of
playing music sickened her.

Instead, she lay on her bed with
the curtains drawn and the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, plunged
into a pit of self pity made even more stark by the happiness of
the past weekend.

She knew Aiden would be frantic
with worry and expecting to hear from her, but there was no way she
could contact him without alerting Marty. He’d even posted a
bodyguard outside her door, pretending it was to keep fans out, not
to hold Erika prisoner. In a flash of inspiration, she had asked to
borrow his phone but he’d been pre-warned and refused.

Even a bribe hadn’t worked.

Marty had even gone as far as
cancelling her doctor’s appointment that evening to underline her
captivity.

“I wouldn’t want you creeping
out the back door to meet lover boy,” he’d said when she’d argued.
“Looking at the videos, there’s nothing wrong with your voice and
it’s pointless running up doctors’ bills. You know how these Harley
Street guys charge. We can use the time to make plans for the
European tour instead.”

“You can cancel that too,” she’d
said furiously. “I won’t do it. Consider our working relationship
terminated as of now.”

“OK. OK. Tell it to the judge
when I sue you for every penny,” Marty had growled. “When I’m done,
you won’t own the clothes you stand up in.”

It had taken every ounce of
Erika’s restraint not to blurt out that she knew Marty had been
stealing from her, and that he might be the one on the wrong end of
a law suit soon. Instead, she’d physically manhandled him out of
her suite, locked the door and gone to lie down on the bed, all the
while fighting the paralysing panic that numbed her senses and
threatened to drain every shred of courage from her.

At some point she drifted off to
sleep, exhausted by her journey and the tension of going head to
head with Marty again. The gentle knocking at the door barely
penetrated her sleep at first and she came round slowly at the
sound of someone calling her name. For a few confused seconds she
thought Aiden had found her and got up quickly, but then realised
the voice was American although, thankfully, not Marty’s.

“Erika. Are you there? It’s
Ben,” he called.

Erika cried out in relief at the
thought of finally seeing a friendly face and unlocked the door,
pulling him inside. Before he could speak, she threw her arms
around him and hugged him close; telling herself she must look like
a mad woman with her tear-streaked mascara and her hair messed up
from sleeping.

“Well someone’s glad to see me.”
Ben laughed and held her away from him. His expression clouded at
the sight of her puffy eyes. “You’ve been crying. Are you OK?”

“I’m fine now you’re here,”
Erika assured him, going over to the mirror to wipe away the
mascara trails. She forced a smile and explained the bare bones of
her argument with Marty, including his plan to invent a passionate
reconciliation between Ben and Erika. “But let’s not talk about
Marty right now,” she went on. “It’s so wonderful to see you. Come
here and let me have a good look at you.”

For his latest film role as an
action hero Ben had built up the muscles in his torso so he’d
doubled in size since she’d last seen him. It suited him. An injury
whilst filming had left a scar across his eyebrow but this only
enhanced his good looks, rendering his face more ruggedly handsome
– if that were at all possible.

Erika understood why thousands
of women the world over were in love with him – or at least, in
lust. And incredibly, Ben Ridley was even better looking in real
life than on film.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,”
she said, knowing he’d never dream she was flirting with him. No
matter what Marty might leak to the gossip columnists, there had
never been any romantic spark; only an increasingly deep
friendship. “The movie’s had great reviews.”

“It has. They’re talking about
an Oscar for the special effects.”

His broad smile didn’t reach his
eyes however. Erika felt guilty. She’d been so busy obsessing about
her own problems she hadn’t noticed the lines of strain on Ben’s
face and suspected they had nothing to do with either jet lag or a
punishing filming schedule.

“What’s wrong?” she asked,
relieved to think about something other than herself. “Has
something happened?”

Ben shook his head, a dozen
phrases seeming to rise to his lips but each one discarded unsaid.
“Nothing’s happened…yet. But I’m here because I need a huge favour
from you.”

“Anything,” Erika didn’t
hesitate. “It might be a little difficult while I’m under house
arrest but I’ll help in any way I can.”

Tension lifted from Ben and he
relaxed, even managing the glowing smile that photographers loved.
A sudden thought made his blue eyes widen.

“In fact, helping me might be a
way of helping you too. We could even end up pleasing Marty at the
same time.”

“Impossible!” Erika laughed at
the idea. “Marty’s never pleased about anything and I’m his least
favourite person at the moment.”

“You haven’t heard what I’m
going to ask yet.”

“Then don’t keep me
guessing.”

She laughed again but Ben looked
deadly serious and fiddled with his watch strap, working out how
best to continue. Sensing his agitation, Erika squeezed his hand
encouragingly.

“I’m going to tell you something
and I need your word that nothing I say will leave this room,” he
began anxiously

“I promise. I won’t tell another
living soul.” She crossed her heart and Ben laughed softly at the
childish gesture before closing his eyes and taking a deep
breath.

“I’m gay.”

He opened his eyes in time to
see Erika reeling. Whatever she’d expected, it hadn’t been
that.

“Gay? But…”

“I know.” Relieved that the
secret was finally out he laughed wryly at the ridiculous contrast
between his on-screen and off-screen lives. “I fight aliens, shoot
bad guys and make love to women when, in real life, all I want to
do is retire to the country, raise horses and start a family.”

“Are you in a relationship?” she
asked tentatively, wondering how Ben could keep a lover secret
living in the Hollywood goldfish bowl.

“Yes. With Richard.”

“Your brother!”

Unsurprisingly, Erika found this
even more shocking but Ben fell back against the sofa cushions,
laughing.

“Of course he’s not my brother!
But we did grow up together. People always assume we’re related so
we just let them believe it.”

Erika had met Richard countless
times and had never once suspected he was anything other than Ben’s
half brother. “He’s as convincing an actor as you are.”

“You learn to cover your
tracks.” Ben gave her a telling glance. “Having him as my personal
assistant also helps and ensures we can be together all the time.
No one turns a hair about two brothers sharing a suite.”

“If only they knew!”

“Well with your help, no one
need ever find out.” He explained their plans for the future. “If
the studios know I’m gay my career could be over. I need a couple
more years with a few high-grossing movies to give us enough money
to retire on.”

It sounded idyllic.

“So where do I fit in?” Erika
asked.

“Someone’s getting suspicious.
There are rumours and we want to stamp on them fast. I need you to
pretend we’re getting engaged.”

Erika didn’t even need to think
about it. “Someone’s just plastered my private life across the
front pages. I couldn’t stand back while you go through far
worse.”

She’d worry about how she’d
explain it to Aiden later.

Ben stretched out on the sofa,
totally relaxed now he had Erika on side. “I saw the papers. That
was quite a kiss. Who is he?”

“An old flame. We bumped into
each other at the weekend and…”

“…things got pretty hot,” Ben
finished for her, flicking up his eyebrows and suppressing a very
sexy smile. “But why would Marty want to start rumours about you
and me if you’re already involved with someone?”

“Because Aiden’s an unknown
quantity and Marty has no control over him. Plus, you generate
better publicity and you know how Marty loves to live in the public
eye.”

“So he’s looking to break the
two of you up.”

“Failing that, he’s threatening
to have Aiden prosecuted for assault.”

“Have you warned Aiden?”

“I can’t. Marty’s smashed my
phone and laptop.” She suddenly realised that Ben would have a
phone and asked to borrow it. “I can call him now.”

Ben grimaced. “Sorry but the
line’s not safe. We think our secret’s out because my phone’s been
hacked. Using my cell would be like calling the paparazzi direct.
Tell me where Aiden is and I’ll get a message to him.”

Erika wrote down the name of
Aiden’s company and a vague location of his apartment. “I don’t
know any more. Everything else was on the phone.”

Ben pocketed the note. “Let’s
get Marty and the press off our backs first.” He quickly sketched a
plan to have them seen around London together – lunching, shopping
and, most importantly, looking very much in love.

Now Ben had trusted her with his
secrets, Erika felt able to let him in on her own and explained why
Aiden had tracked her down that weekend.

“Marty’s been robbing me blind
since the day we met and he might even own the copyright to my
music. Aiden’s lawyers are putting a case together – which is
another reason why I need to escape and see him.”

“So the sooner we convince Marty
we’re playing to his script the better.” Ben grinned. “Clean
yourself up, put on something sexy and I’ll take you out somewhere
conspicuous for dinner.”

Erika smiled conspiratorially,
already counting the hours until she saw Aiden again. “Even if I’m
with you, Marty will still insist we have a bodyguard. How are we
going to shake him off?”

“Don’t worry. The more people
see us together, the better. Marty’s not the only one who can pour
petrol on a rumour. Now go and get ready before I change my
mind.”

He watched Erika walk through to
the bedroom to find something to wear but called her back. “Wear
red,” he told her, grinning broadly. “All the magazines tell me I
have a thing about women in red dresses. Let’s give them exactly
what they want to see.”

Aiden had been calling Erika’s
mobile phone since noon the previous day, only to have it revert to
voicemail every time. Abandoning his meeting in Birmingham, he’d
driven back down to London and gone straight to The Savoy, only to
be blanked by the clerk on the desk.

“I’m sorry sir, but we’re unable
to say whether Miss Fenn is registered with us,” the man had told
him, his face impassive.

“Look, I’m not a fan, I’m a
friend and I need to speak to her urgently.”