He seemed to be implying that she had left Raul lying in bed –
in her bed
! He was doing his judgemental number and Tiffany could do without it.
‘He’s hardly going to drive from Richmond to the West End, is he?’
‘I see.’ A beat. ‘So how was your night?’
Ooh, wasn’t that rather a personal question from Sean I-can’t-have-anything-to-do-with-you Murphy?
It was on the tip of Tiffany’s tongue to say,
None of your business!
Instead, she replied, ‘Very good, thanks. How was yours?’
She’d only been in Sean’s company a matter of minutes and he was already winding her up with his questions.
‘Fine, thanks.’ A pause. ‘So do you think you’ll be seeing Raul Garcia again?’
Why was he asking her about Raul? What did he care? Tiffany fiddled impatiently with her scarf. ‘Yes. Is this the end of the interrogation? Because I’m knackered and I’m going to shut my eyes.’
The cheek! The bare-faced, blatant cheek of Sean asking her about her private life when he always deflected any personal questions and hid behind his ‘I’m just doing my job’ mantra.
Sean didn’t say another word to her for the rest of the journey.
*
Tiffany walked into the dressing room to discover that Jez had of course seen the article and pinned it up on the wall, a love heart drawn around the photograph in bright red lipstick. ‘Tiffany and Raul, sitting in the tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,’ he chanted, then winked. ‘And the rest! You, my darling, are now officially a sleb.’
She had to introduce him to Kara – they would get on brilliantly.
‘You’ve got the celebrity boyfriend, the TV job, you’ve been papped more than once. They’ll be asking you to go on
I’m A Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here!
next. And how about appearing on
The Graham Norton Show
? I love him. You have to promise to introduce me to him if you do.’
Tiffany slumped down on one of the chairs. ‘I don’t want to go on any shows. I just want to get on with my job.’ She picked at her nails, chipping off a fragment of coral-coloured varnish. Bugger! Now she would have to re-do them.
‘Welcome to my world,’ Angel replied, from the chair next to her. She turned and smiled at Tiffany, ‘Are you OK, babe?’
She shrugged. ‘Yes and no. I don’t want paps outside my flat or taking pictures of me when I’m out.’ Even as she said it, she realised yet again how much her life had changed. This last sentence was not something she ever would have come out with three months ago.
‘I understand, and it will die down. But I think you might need to get an agent to field all the press stuff. I was going to suggest my agent Susie. She’s very good.’
‘See, you really are a celeb now you’ve got an agent!’ Jez exclaimed.
Eye roll from Tiffany. ‘I haven’t got one – I’m thinking about getting one.’
‘Oh, get one! It’s the celebrity must-have accessory. Like a Chanel bag, a ridiculous tattoo quotation on
your
body that no one understands, and an addiction to something … but preferably not food as that’s not sexy. Though you if you did start porking out to deal with the fame, you could always go on
Celebrity Fat Camp
and then bring out a fitness DVD …’
Tiffany’s phone rang, a merciful release from Jez’s stream of consciousness on celebrity. It was Raul. ‘Tiffany, my PR has just phoned me about the newspaper – are you OK? The press haven’t been bothering you, have they?’
He sounded concerned for her – it was sweet of him. Tiffany could feel some of the stress ease. A photograph of her and Raul in the papers was hardly the end of the world. She looked at the picture Jez had pinned up on the wall. At least it was a good photograph.
‘The paps were outside this morning, but Sean picked me up.’
‘Who’s Sean?’ Tiffany detected a note of jealousy. She rather liked that.
‘He’s Angel’s head of security. He was just doing his job.’
And giving me a hard time
.
‘OK. Well, if you ever find yourself in that situation again, give me a ring and I’ll be right over. And I will arrange to have a driver pick you up on Thursday. He is skilled in getting past the paparazzi.’
‘I was going to get the train.’ Tiffany wasn’t sure if she liked people arranging her life for her. She was used to her independence.
‘Please let me do this for you?’
It seemed rude not to say yes.
Raul lowered his voice and she could just imagine his pupils dilating as he continued, ‘And I am counting the hours until I see you again. I can’t stop thinking about you and that kiss … You have the softest lips I’ve ever kissed.’
Phew! Tiffany felt all hot thinking about it, and didn’t
even
want to retort that he should know, after all the women he’d kissed.
‘Raul?’ Angel asked as soon as Tiffany ended the call.
‘He was just checking I was OK.’ She could hardly keep the grin off her face.
‘He’s very smitten, isn’t he, kitten? See? It paid off, not shagging him on the first date.’ Jez, naturally.
‘Might have. But how do you know that I didn’t?’ Tiffany teased him.
‘A woman of mystery! I like it! Did you?’
Tiffany shook her head, laughing.
After the show Angel arranged a meeting for Tiffany with her agent. Sean drove them to Soho. Angel, of course, had no idea that there had ever been anything between Tiffany and Sean so she chatted away about Raul, wanting to know what he was like, asking Tiffany what she thought of him. Just the sort of questions any sister would ask, but Tiffany felt uncomfortable having it with Sean there – silent, serious Sean.
‘Jez said that Raul asked you to go to Italy. That would be awesome, wouldn’t it?’
‘I’ll be working, so I doubt I can go.’
Angel smiled. ‘It would be for a weekend, you wouldn’t need any time off. Just imagine it – the glamour of the place, watching the race – it would be so exciting. And Raul is so handsome. And he really likes you.’ She paused. ‘You like him too, don’t you?’
Not this conversation in front of Sean! ‘Sure, but I’m just going to see how it goes.’
Thankfully Angel didn’t have Jez’s terrier-like habit of trying to extract information about every single aspect of her love life, so Tiffany was spared any further questions on Raul.
‘I meant to ask, did you send Tanya the letter?’
Tiffany had been so caught up in her Raul
infatuation
that she had done nothing about it. She felt a pang of guilt. ‘No, but I will.’
‘Well, let me know how you get on and if she replies.’ Angel looked serious. ‘I can’t imagine what she’ll have to say for herself, though.’
Then it was clear that she didn’t want to carry on talking about Tanya as she reached for her crystal-encrusted phone and began checking through her messages. Tiffany looked up and caught Sean’s eye in the rear-view mirror. As usual she couldn’t read his expression. Their former flirtatious banter seemed to belong to another lifetime.
Susie was an extremely competent, no-nonsense straight-talking thirty-something woman. Tiffany clocked and approved of her white designer trouser suit, and black suede Jimmy Choos. As Susie revealed her game plan for dealing with the press, Tiffany registered that she was in the presence of an expert and felt some of the anxiety leave her. She readily agreed Susie should represent her, which meant that from now on Susie would handle the press, and put out any statements when they were needed.
‘And we should also talk about your career,’ she said once they had dealt with the question of the press.
‘It’s going OK, isn’t it?’ Tiffany replied. ‘I mean, only three months ago I was was a waitress and now I’m on day-time TV.’
‘Darling, you’ve done brilliantly, but you need to work at your profile. I think we should set up a series of interviews with the celeb mags … maybe with a view to you getting your own column. You’re the perfect demographic for those mags. You’re young, beautiful, sassy. Frankly they should be chewing my arm off to get to you.’
Tiffany looked anxiously over at Angel. ‘I’m not sure.
I
don’t want to trade off Angel’s name and talk about her. I only want to talk about my job.’
Susie gave her a slightly sceptical look, as if she couldn’t quite believe that Tiffany would turn such an opportunity down.
‘I think you should do it,’ Angel told her. ‘I know you’re not going to use me to get famous, but it’s fine to give them something – like how well we get on. And they’re bound to want to ask you about your private life.’
‘Ah, yes, Raul Garcia!’ Susie’s eyes lit up. ‘He’s a keeper. If you ever get tired of him, do send him my way!’ She gave a dirty laugh. ‘Just kidding, I’m very happy with my Eduardo – got to love the Latin man, haven’t you?’ She quickly snapped out of it and got back to business. ‘So how about I make some calls and see if we can set you up with some interviews?’
When Tiffany still hesitated, Angel stepped in. ‘Do it, Tiffany. It will also be a good way of raising the show’s profile, so everyone will be happy.’ She smiled. ‘I’ve been so lucky with my own career I’d love to be able to help you out. And before you say that you want to get there under your own steam, I’m doing it because you’re talented.’
Tiffany looked over at Susie. ‘OK then, make the calls.’
Susie got an instant and positive response from the mags and Tiffany found herself booked in to do three interviews and shoots – the first of which was going to be on Thursday, her day off from filming the show. Angel must have thought she was doing her a favour when she told Tiffany that she had arranged for Sean to take her to the shoots and stay with her. ‘I’m going to be at home with Cal so he’s all yours,’ she’d said brightly when she’d called Tiffany.
‘Are you sure you don’t need him?’
‘No, we’ve got two other guys with us and I want you to have the best. That way the paps won’t bother you.’
Tiffany couldn’t face being alone with Sean in the car and getting the same judgemental treatment from him again, so she called Kara who managed to wangle a day off work – luckily Kara’s dad was the most easy-going boss where his daughter was concerned. Then she phoned Sean. Tiffany just bet he was surprised to see her name flash up, but she got straight to the point. ‘Listen, you don’t need to take me to the shoot on Thursday. Kara’s going to come with me and we’ll get taxis.’
‘Angel did ask me to check that you were OK …’
‘I am.’ She paused. ‘To be honest, it would make me feel on edge if you were around.’
‘Oh?’
Did she really have to spell everything out for him?
‘If you must know, I could do without your comments about my private life. I’m free to do whatever I want and see whoever I want!’ Now she sounded like a petulant little girl, but so be it.
A pause, and Tiffany wondered if Sean was going to tell her what he really thought or hide behind his job. ‘No problem. I’ll let Angel know that this is your decision.’
Sean was so infuriatingly calm – it made her want to stick out her tongue and stamp her feet and throw a massive hissy fit!
Tiffany looked up at the white stucco four-storey Regency house in open-mouthed admiration. Raul’s Richmond mansion was even grander than Angel’s country house. She thanked his driver, Luis, half wondering if she should tip him, and walked up the stone steps to the imposing front door. It was painted an elegant pale green, flanked by white pillars with
elaborate
scrolls at the top that reminded her of a wedding cake. She rang the bell, fiddling with the straps of her red maxi-dress while she waited. She had gone for a casual, summery look and hoped she’d made the right call.
Raul opened the door, casually dressed in a white shirt and beige linen trousers. He was barefoot. He even had beautifully pedicured feet, whereas she’d only given hers a quick pumice in the shower this morning.
‘Welcome to my house, Tiffany,’ he said, after kissing her on the lips. ‘I hope you find everything to your satisfaction.’
Why did everything he said make her think of sex? Of writhing on the bed with him, limbs entwined … although, at all costs, she must remember to keep her hard-skinned feet away from his baby-soft ones! He would never recover from the shock.
She stepped into a huge hallway, with a black-and-white marble floor. A dining room lay to one side and a living room to the other. Either Raul had just moved in or his taste was minimalist in the extreme as there was hardly any furniture visible. She followed him along a corridor and down some steps into a vast, ultra-modern kitchen. It had aubergine-coloured units and a massive Pop Art painting of a racing car dominating one entire wall.
‘Would Dom Perignon be OK for you?’
Raul held up the distinctively squat dark green bottle. This was a champagne Tiffany had never tasted before. Its hefty price tag had seen to that. She stared at him, wondering if he was teasing her.
‘That would be lovely. I guess you haven’t got any vintage Cristal?’
Raul walked over to an industrial-sized silver fridge and opened it. Where most people’s fridges held everyday items, Raul’s seemed to be full only of
champagne
and wine. ‘I’ve got Cristal, Laurent Perrier or Krug.’
‘The Dom Perignon is fine,’ Tiffany said quickly, adding, ‘But where do you put your milk?’
Raul obliged by opening what looked like a cupboard on the outside, to reveal a very well-stocked fridge. He gave a wry smile. ‘Anything else you want to see in the kitchen? My tray of organic vegetables … my spice rack? Or shall we go through to the garden?’
‘Garden sounds good to me.’
It was hard to believe that they were still virtually in London as they sat down in Raul’s outdoor paradise, surrounded by a magnolia tree, huge exotic-looking grasses and an elegant water feature, except of course for every now and then when the planes flew overhead to and from Heathrow. ‘I’m used to them,’ Raul told her. ‘I quite like it … makes me feel connected.’
He had laid out a delicious picnic of breads, olives, tapas, strawberries – except Tiffany had a suspicion that he’d done no such thing, it had probably been done by one of his many staff.
She sipped her champagne, enjoying the sensation of the bubbles exploding in her mouth. The Dom Perignon was divine. Raul had ruined her. She was never, ever going to be able to drink cheap wine again!