Watching Willow Watts (18 page)

Willow watched him go, shaking her head at the irony of her father’s words
. This Marilyn thing wasn’t what
she
wanted, not at all. It was simply what needed to be done. But maybe . . . once this was over . . . maybe then she could think about somehow getting back to the Willow her mum had been proud of. For now, though, she needed to take care of the present.

And at this moment
– she looked at the clock – that meant feeding Krusty. Sighing, she went downstairs and was just about to head out to the back garden with a scoop of grain when the doorbell rang.

‘
Who is it?’ Willow called out, having learned the hard way to identify visitors after opening the door last week to a whole busload of Scandinavian tourists.

‘
It’s Jay!’

Oh, good.
He could help her practice some songs, maybe even choreograph a few new moves. Already her cheeks were heating up at the thought of his hands on her swivelling hips.

‘
Great news!’ Jay dropped a kiss on her cheek and
pushed into the lounge, taking his usual place on the sofa.

Willow squeezed in next to him
, his spicy cologne enveloping her. ‘What’s that?’

‘
Tickets are selling like wildfire for Marilyn Mania. We’ve already got posters up and press releases have gone out.’

‘
Wow! That was fast.
’ Jay’s efficiency was so impressive. She’d definitely made the right choice signing on with him.

‘
Thanks, babe. And even better . . .’ He raised his eyebrows and looked at her expectantly.

‘
What?’
Willow wondered what could be ‘better’ than a Hollywood psychic.

‘
I’ve just heard from Dean Denner. He’s in!’

‘
Who?’
The name didn’t sound familiar, but she wasn’t exactly up on today’s celebs. If it wasn’t for Paula, Willow might not have even heard of Simon Cowell.

‘
Dean Denner! T
he famous John F Kennedy impersonator. He’s a giant in America – all over the place, actually. He was even on Oprah last year.’

‘
Oh, fab,’ Willow said
, trying to sound excited. What was she supposed to do with him?

‘
You two will perform
the closing number for the concert. You know, the Happy Birthday song.’

Willow nodded. ‘Great!’ At least she had the lyrics down to that one.

Jay smiled and slid a hand onto her thigh. ‘We’ll talk specifics tomorrow. Right now, I just want to be with you.’ His lips met hers and Willow leaned into the gentle kiss. God, it was nice to be with someone again. Someone to talk to, someone who wanted what was best for her.

But what would happen when she’d made enough money to stop being Marilyn?

Willow pushed away the thought. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Anyway, if Jay really
did
care for her like he seemed to, he’d understand. For now, she just wanted to enjoy the feeling of his mouth on hers.

‘
So, do you think you might be ready, maybe, to move this upstairs? To the bedroom?’ Jay asked softly after a few minutes
.

Willow met his
dark eyes and a warm feeling flooded into her. ‘I’m ready.’

*

The next morning,
Jay glanced over at Willow, noting with relief she was still asleep. Even without all the make-up and padding, she wasn’t a bad-looking girl, and the sex had been slightly better than expected. It had been so long since he’d had a shag, though, he wouldn’t have cared how rubbish it was.

Grinning triumphantly, Jay
pulled on his carefully laid-out suit. He
knew
he’d get Willow into bed; extend his influence over her after pushing the other bloke out of the picture. He’d done the same thing with Jorgie, too, and it had worked wonders until the contract fiasco.

Well, that wouldn’t happen with Willow
, Jay thought, creeping down the stairs and easing past the kitchen where that fat American and Willow’s doddering old dad were eating breakfast with the radio blaring.

First things first
, he had to make this festival a massive success. It was a real coup, getting Dean Denner on board. Dean would show everyone this was the big leagues – or as big as you could get in the world of impersonation. Apart from Oprah, the impersonator had even met Obama himself and was pretty much worshipped in America, for God knows what reason. He’d be the perfect partner for Willow on-stage.

As Jay hurried
back to the pub for a quick change of clothes, he caught sight of the broad from the hair salon – and her perfectly shaped arse. Time to cash in that rain check, baby, he thought, brushing the lapels of his jacket and quickening his step. Once he told her he was a big London agent, she’d roll over right there. Hell, he’d even throw in a free ticket to the festival. Jay patted his pocket where he stowed the wad of tickets and cash. Punters were practically throwing themselves at him to secure their entry, and he was only too happy to take their money – and keep all of it for himself.

‘
Hey,
baby.’ He shot her a mega-watt smile.

‘
Hi, there.’ The woman grinned and Jay’s groin hardened in response. He couldn’t wait to get on top of her.

‘
Ready to redeem that rain
check? I know a place where we can have some privacy, get to know one another better . . . ‘ He slid a hand up and down her arm in a way guaranteed to drive women crazy.

She
smiled coyly through lowered lashes. ‘I don’t go anywhere with anyone before proper introductions.’

This one had spirit!
When he finally did get her into bed, he could only imagine how feisty she would be. ‘We haven’t been introduced, have we? I’m Jay Bellamy, a London agent. You might have heard of the new Marilyn.’ He stuck out his chest. ‘Well, I’m her representative.’

The woman’s eyebrows flew up
. Ha! He knew that would seal the deal. Another one bites the dust.

‘
You’re
Willow’s agent?’ Her expression wasn’t admiring, though. It was more like . . . disgust, the kind of look his mother gave him when he forgot to clean Bunny’s cage.

‘
Yes. Why? D
o you know her?’ Jay narrowed his eyes. Willow didn’t look like the type to hang with a rock chick, but Belcherton was a small place. Just his luck, trying it on with someone who knew Willow. Everybody in this bloody village was probably in-bred, anyway.

‘
She’s my best friend,’ the woman practically
hissed, and Jay backed away and started toward Willow’s house again, heart pounding.
Shit.
Well, now that he’d slept with Willow, he had the advantage. He’d slip back in and have a word about her so-called best friend, make up something to turn Willow against her.

T
his place was doing his head in.

Jay
let himself into the Watts’s house and ran up the stairs, sweat beading on his brow. Bursting through the bedroom door, he could hear Willow’s mobile ringing. He lunged for the phone, ignoring her surprised yelp as he knocked it out of her hand.

‘
Don’t answer that!’ he said, breathing hard.

‘
Why?’ Willow
yawned and Jay glanced away, disgusted. He preferred to see women
after
they’d done themselves up – and not before.

‘
I just overhead a reporter on the
street say they’re going to pose as an old friend, and catch you out to prove this whole Marilyn thing is a farce,’ Jay answered glibly. ‘That could be them now. It wouldn’t be too hard for the media to ask around and get your mobile number.’

‘
God.’ Willow’s eyes were wide. ‘Thanks for the warning.’

‘
Actually, I think it’s best if you give me your phone, and I’ll take all your calls from now on,’ he continued. ‘That’s the usual thing with my clients – I’d hate for one random reporter to ruin all our hard work.’

Willow nodded and handed him her
mobile. ‘That would be terrible.’

Christ
, the woman was gullible. It was almost like taking candy from a baby. Jay tucked the phone in his pocket. ‘I can give you a new secure mobile, which you can use for personal business.’
When hell freezes over.
‘But for now, I’ll screen your calls and pass on any message. Sound good?’

‘
Yes. Thank you.’ Willow yawned
again and Jay tried hard not to show his revulsion.

‘
You’re welcome.’
He kissed her quickly on the cheek. Right, now for the tricky bit. ‘And I’d be careful with your friends, too. No-one likes to think it, but they can get jealous with sudden stardom. They might try to warn you away from people; make up stories to bring you down . . . I’ve seen it all.’

‘
Paula would never do that,’ Willow said, pulling the blanket up around her. ‘In fact, she encouraged me to go for it.’

‘
I’m sure she did,’ Jay said, telling himself to tread carefully here. ‘But sometimes, when people are jealous, they behave differently.’ He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. ‘I’m just warning you. Remember: I’m the one with your best interests at heart. I’m here for you, no matter what.’

Closing his eyes
, he lowered his lips onto Willow’s and rolled on top of her, trapping her under his heavy body.

*

Betts ran a h
and through her curls and sighed, squinting at the permissions and planning in front of her. She’d been staring at the pile of paperwork for hours and was no closer to getting through it than when she’d started. That Jay hadn’t told her how much work all this involved.

Betts shook her head, thinking how funny life was. A few months ago, she
never would have imagined herself here in England. And now she was helping organise a Marilyn Monroe festival! The past few days had been so hectic, she’d barely even had time to wonder how the kids were doing. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, but with her own priorities now, it was obvious she’d spent way too much of her life revolving around them – and Gord, of course, until he’d taken off.

Was that why Marilyn had been so important – because she’d had nothing else of her own? Lucy and Tim always mocked her love for the idol, but Betts had just pushed aside their laughter without really giving it much thought. Her mind flashed to the Marilyn shrine back home. Betts would sit there for hours, surrounded by photo after photo of the icon while her husband and kids piled up the demands.

‘
Cup of tea?’ Dickie’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts and Betts looked up into his smiling face, heart melting.
In all the years she’d been with Gord, he’d never offered her anything other than dirty socks to wash. Dickie was exactly the kind of man she wanted in her life; someone who thought of her, who cared about her.

Her mouth dropped open at
the realisation that Dickie wasn’t just the kind of man she wanted – she wanted
him
. You silly, silly woman, she scolded herself. Look what you’ve gone and done now, falling for someone who’ll never feel the same way. But wait, why was he staring at her like that? It was almost like . . . almost like . . . oh!

Betts’
s thoughts faded away as Dickie’s firm lips met hers and his hand touched her waist. With Gord, she’d always taken a step back so he wouldn’t make fun of her extra ‘blubber’, as he called it. But Dickie’s arms were encircling her, drawing her closer.

Maybe she hadn’t been so silly, after all.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CISSY PEERED THROUGH
HER binoculars, watching as men swarmed across a distant field like ants. One group was erecting a tent, while others unloaded those hideously green portable toilets into a row by the southern fence. She zoomed in even more. Lord, there were dozens of workers! A huge crowd must be expected for this Marilyn fest.

Ever since spo
tting the advertisement that American had posted, Cissy’s brain had been spinning with ways to stop the festival. Unfortunately, nothing had yet come to mind.

She
shook her head as workers set up metal fences around the site perimeter. Surely one couldn’t just take a field in the countryside and use it for a massive festival – all in the space of a week. Wouldn’t there have to be proper planning permissions, village meetings, festival licences granted? That certainly couldn’t be accomplished in such a short period of time. The agent might be a con man of the highest order, but he couldn’t perform miracles.

Cissy t
humped the binoculars onto a cabinet. She’d call the council and give them an earful about what was happening here. Once they found out what was going on without their approval, they’d be sure to shut down the concert. Flicking through the White Pages, she found the number and dialled it carefully on her old rotary phone.

‘
Oh, hello,’ she said when someone pi
cked up. ‘I’m calling to report a possible breach of council regulations in Belcherton.’