‘A friend of mine works for them and he recommended me when I came out of the army eight months ago. I was just helping out for the opening night when you saw me at the club. Never again either! I’d rather be back in the army than face some of those drunken clubbers.’ His tone was light but Tiffany noticed that his face darkened when he mentioned the army. And she didn’t feel able to probe any deeper.
‘You never heard anything more from that tosser?’
‘That tosser’ could only refer to Gavin. Tiffany shook her head. ‘No, thank God!’
‘Pity he got you the sack, though.’
‘It would have been for something else. I’d had enough of being a waitress.’
‘And how’s the gym going?’
Tiffany shrugged. ‘It’s a job.’ She sighed and added wistfully, ‘But everything seems to take me further from doing what I really want to do.’
‘You’ve got plenty of time to make it as a stylist.’ He paused. ‘So how would you style me then?’
Tiffany wondered if there was a trace of flirtation in his voice. Usually it was obvious when men were flirting with her, but it was exceptionally hard to tell with Mr Serious.
‘I don’t usually do men, but …’ Tiffany tilted her head to one side to consider Sean. She liked his hair so short, but it could possibly be a fraction longer and still
look
as cute. He was wearing a battered black leather jacket that she approved of, but was ruining it with a black sweatshirt underneath, and a pair of jeans that were too nondescript and shapeless. The leather jacket said sexy and tough, the jeans and sweatshirt said safe and boring. Tiffany knew which one she preferred.
‘Hmm … I think I’d like to rough you up at bit. Spike your hair, lose the boring sweatshirt and jeans.’
‘You’re not going to get me in skinny jeans.’
‘No, just some that fit properly. And some black boots. You’re only – what – late-twenties?’
‘Twenty-eight,’ Sean admitted.
‘But you’re dressing like someone way older!’ She couldn’t resist teasing him. ‘One day you will be old and then you’ll look back and think, Why didn’t I make more of an effort when I could? Now I’m just a sad old man in bad clothes.’
Sean shrugged. ‘I don’t have time for clothes. They’ve just got to be functional and practical for work.’
‘How totally boring!’ Tiffany exclaimed. ‘You can have such fun with clothes, and really express yourself.’ She paused, curious to know the answer to her next question. ‘What does your girlfriend or wife think of how you dress?’
‘My ex-wife couldn’t care less about how I dress. And I don’t have a girlfriend.’
Ah, so he was divorced? She had thought so. And secretly she was pleased that he didn’t have a girlfriend.
‘How about your daughter?’
Mention of his daughter raised a smile, ‘Maya doesn’t mind what I wear, she’s only six.’
‘Oh, they start young, believe me – I was always trying to style my step-mum, and my sister is obsessed with clothes and she’s only eight.’
‘At the moment Maya is a bit of a tomboy, and that’s
how
I’d like it to stay. I don’t want her growing up too fast.’ He paused. ‘It’s hard, though, as I don’t get to see her as much as I would like.’ He changed the subject after that, asking her about her family, and Tiffany got the impression that he felt that he had revealed too much about himself and wasn’t comfortable with it. She had to admit that she found him intriguing, something of a challenge. She felt a spark of excitement to be spending time with this handsome man, wanted to flirt with him, wanted him to like her. It had been a while since a man had had this effect on her. It helped put the rest of the day’s events into perspective.
Nonetheless, she thought they would be going their separate ways after breakfast and was all set to head off for the tube when Sean said unexpectedly, ‘I don’t have to be anywhere for the rest of the day, I could give you a lift to your dad’s.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’ D’oh! Why did she say that? She would love him to give her a lift!
‘It’s cool. You’ve had a difficult morning. I like driving anyway.’
‘So it’s nothing to do with my charming personality?’ Tiffany joked.
‘Maybe.’
God, it was hard getting banter out of him! But then he smiled. Smile number three of the day, Tiffany noted, and it felt like a gift.
‘You can give me some more style tips,’ he said.
Was he flirting with her? It would be easier to read Sanskrit than work Sean out!
‘For free? I should be charging.’
‘Count it as payment in kind for the ride.’
‘Oh, shit!’ Tiffany exclaimed as Sean pulled up outside her parents’ terraced house and she took in the sight of paps camped out on the pavement. It had never even
occurred
to her that the press would track down her family home.
She looked at Sean anxiously. ‘My sister gets out of school in an hour, I really don’t want her to see all this. And my step-mum’s pregnant … the last thing I want is for her to be upset. What can I do?’
‘I’ll call some people … sort something out. Don’t worry. First we’ve got to get inside. Stick close to me, and keep your head down.’
It was like preparing for battle. Tiffany put on her sunglasses again and then it was like a re-run of the morning as she and Sean pushed their way through the photographers who instantly realised who she was and started clicking away with their cameras. Thankfully there was a fairly long path up to the house and Sean made a point of closing the wrought-iron gate, and telling the paps he was quite prepared to call the police if they attempted to come through it.
Once inside he made several phone calls while Tiffany called her her dad, explaining the situation to him. They decided he would collect Marie and Lily-Rose from school, and hopefully by the time he drove them back, Sean would have some assistance.
‘Cup of tea? Vodka?’ Tiffany asked Sean when they’d both finished their calls. She was feeling slightly hysterical. She could see the lurking paps from the kitchen window. They really were something else.
‘Hang on, I bet you never drink on duty,’ she added.
‘Tea would be great.’ He sensed her feelings and reached out and touched her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got two of my lads coming over. They’ll be here before your family’s due back.’
He sat at the kitchen table. It had got warmer now and he had shed the leather jacket and sweatshirt and was down to a grey tee-shirt. Tiffany thought that her earlier assessment had been right; he was all
muscle.
She took in the curve of his biceps, his lovely muscular forearms. Phew! Perhaps she had better have a vodka.
Within an hour Sean’s men had arrived, and Tiffany was feeling even more hysterical as both of them were dressed entirely in black and were huge man mountains. She had the urge to sing Will Smith’s ‘Men in Black’, but Buster (what kind of name was that for a man? Surely that was a dog’s name) and Graham didn’t look like they would see the funny side. They refused her offer of a cup of tea and stood outside the front door, arms folded across their massive chests, looking menacing. At that rate, they would freak out Lily-Rose more than the paps.
‘Were they in the army with you?’ Tiffany asked Sean, from their vantage point in the kitchen.
‘No, I met them when I came out. Not the brightest, but loyal.’
‘And big … very big. They actually make you look quite small.’ And she wanted to add, ‘
But I’m sure you’ve got better muscles
,’ but resisted, as that made it sound as if she had been checking him out. And, yes, while she
had
been checking him out, she wasn’t sure she wanted
him
to know that. But in spite of the bizarre situation, she realised that she was actually enjoying spending time with Sean.
She nipped off to the bathroom at one point to check on her appearance and was relieved to see that her make-up still looked good. But she added an extra layer of mascara, and put on a bit more blusher and sprayed on the final drop of Coco Mademoiselle.
By the time she was walking downstairs, her family had made it safely into the house.
‘Bloody hell!’ her dad exclaimed as he shrugged off his jacket and slung it on the banisters, a habit which drove Marie wild. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.
They’re
like wild beasts out there.’ He caught sight of Tiffany. ‘Are you OK, love?’
‘I am now I know that you’re all back.’ She gave him a quick hug. ‘Are Marie and Lily-Rose all right?’
‘Yeah, they’re in the kitchen with Sean.’
Marie was making him another cup of tea, while Lily-Rose was staring out of the window, fascinated by the photographers, and as Tiffany walked in she heard her step-mum say, ‘Sweetie, why don’t you go into the lounge and watch CBBC? I’ll bring you a snack through.’
Lily-Rose was reluctant to leave until Marie bribed her with a packet of chocolate buttons. Then she turned her attention to Tiffany.
‘We’ve been so worried about you. What an ordeal!’ Marie enfolded her in a hug.
‘I’m absolutely fine. I’ve been more worried about you and Lily-Rose.’
‘No probs, babes, we had our own personal bodyguard.’ Marie looked over at Sean and Tiffany could have sworn that her step-mum had a glint in her eye.
‘I felt all important and glam, like Whitney Houston in
The Bodyguard
, when Sean escorted us from the car.’
‘Well,
please
don’t sing,’ Tiffany teased her, sitting down at the worn oak table opposite Sean. Marie was tone deaf but loved singing and adored belting out ballads, which cleared the room and terrified Minnie the cat.
Chris came into the kitchen. ‘Will you stay for supper, Sean? It’s the least we could do, to thank you for looking out for Tiffany.’
‘I was just doing my job, but thanks. Supper would be great, I don’t have to be in Sussex until tomorrow morning.’
‘And how about a beer?’ Chris continued. ‘Tiffany, can you get Sean a beer? In fact, make that two, I’ll have
one
too. And now I have to think about what to cook.’ Chris rubbed his hands together; he loved cooking for guests. ‘How about seared salmon on a bed of Singapore noodles?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Sean replied. ‘It beats the ready meal I was going to shove in the microwave.’
‘I’d have thought you would be into healthy eating. My body is my temple kind of thing,’ Tiffany commented, handing him a bottle of Bud and a glass. She had poured herself a glass of wine.
‘It’s a temple I bet a lot of women wouldn’t mind worshipping at – myself included!’ Marie commented, and then clapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment as Tiffany and Chris exchanged appalled glances.
‘I’m so sorry! It’s my pregnancy hormones. I’m going to check on Lily-Rose.’ And Marie practically ran out of the room.
‘She’s lived a sheltered life,’ Chris joked. ‘But you do look as if you work out.’
Sean nodded, and Tiffany wondered if he was going to mention the army. Instead he said, ‘It’s nice to have a compliment from someone. I’ve had your eldest daughter criticising my sense of style. It’s too boring for her apparently.’
‘I wouldn’t worry … she does that to everyone. And I wouldn’t mind, but her style isn’t always on the mark.’
Tiffany glared at her dad and then looked at what she was wearing – a flirty floral dress, toughened up with her leather jacket and beige suede ankle boots.
‘What’s wrong with this? It’s called fashion, Dad. You know, the thing you were into about two thousand years ago?’ She swished her hair back. ‘I’m so misunderstood by this family!’
‘Well, maybe you’ll be better understood by your new family,’ Chris bantered back.
He said it lightly enough but Tiffany wondered if he felt insecure about the whole Angel situation. ‘No, I’m stuck with you, and that’s fine by me.’ She smiled at her dad, wanting to reassure him.
‘Me too,’ Chris replied, smiling back, then banished her and Sean out of the kitchen so he could cook in peace.
‘You’ve got a great family,’ Sean commented as he sat down on the sofa. Lily-Rose was upstairs playing and Marie was having a rest. Just as well, Tiffany thought. Who knew what else her hormonally charged step-mum would come out with …
‘Yeah, I love them to bits.’
‘Angel’s very close to her family as well.’
‘We both said how lucky we were not to be brought up by Tanya. I can’t imagine how we’d have ended up if we had been.’ Tiffany was sitting in her favourite chair – a comfortable scuffed brown leather armchair. She had kicked off her boots and tucked her long legs under her. She noticed that Sean was sitting up straight; he looked ready to spring into action at any moment.
‘You can relax now, can’t you?’
‘Yes, I guess. Force of habit.’ He sat back on the sofa. ‘Sorry if I gave you a hard time when we first met.’ He was staring right at her with those intense dark brown eyes. She could see part of a black dragon tattoo peeking out of his tee-shirt on his right shoulder. Tiffany did love a tattoo on a man’s shoulder … well, a hot man obviously, not on some flabby fat bloke. She imagined tracing her fingers around the design, and as she stared back at him she thought that he definitely did have a body she wouldn’t mind worshipping at. Whoah! She didn’t even have the excuse of being pregnant.
She hastily sipped her wine then said, ‘You seemed to think I was some kind of no-good slapper gold-digger when we met.’
He laughed. ‘No way as bad as that! I was only doing my job, and you have to admit that a letter coming out of the blue would set alarm bells ringing.’ He was actually apologising to her, but Tiffany wasn’t sure that she wanted to let him off the hook so easily; she still remembered how judgemental he had been.
‘Maybe you shouldn’t be quite so quick to jump to conclusions about people.’
She expected him to defend himself, and was disarmed when he said, ‘I’m sorry.’ A pause. ‘Forgive me?’ And she was rewarded with another smile.
Yep, Sean Murphy was definitely a hottie …
Sean had to make some work phone calls after that to sort out security arrangements for the rest of the week, so Tiffany left him to it and wandered upstairs to see Lily-Rose. She ended up playing Angry Birds with her on her phone, but halfway through one level Lily-Rose suddenly stopped and said anxiously, ‘If you’re Angel Summer’s sister, does that mean you won’t be my sister any more?’