Anyone But You: A BRAND NEW feel-good celebrity, second chance romance (Love is in the Air Book 2)

Chapter Three

Scarlett pulled the duvet cover over her head as her phone gate-crashed her dreams. She stuck out her arm, feeling for her alarm and switching it off. ‘Please, no, I’m too tired.’ She opened one eye, gritty and sore,asif she’d forgotten to takeouther contactlenses again. Her brain came alive when she realised her feet weren’t hindered by crisp hotel sheets, flattening her like a letter pushed into a too small envelope. Pulling herself up, she sighed with relief as she took in her surroundings and slid back into the silky warmth of her ownbed.

She washome.

As her mobile started ringing again, she dragged it under the duvet, groaning as a picture of a Great White shark flashed up on the screen and the sinister tune from Jaws blared out.

Sodding hell. Todd,the chief pilotof StarJet. She didn’t dareignoreit. What a start to the day. ‘Todd, goodmorning! You’re up bright andearly.’

‘Scarlett,’ Todd’s voice drawled back. ‘A thought. I’m taking the Frogeye Sprite out for a spin to Stapleford andwondered if you fancied coming with me. The Piper needs a turn over before the winter, so we could fly out to Le Touquet, if you fancied it. Partake in a bowl of mussels and somegarlic bread, beforeheadinghome.’

Scarlett’s brain scrambled at all the nouns. What was he on about and why was he including her in his plans? She sighed as she slowly came to. Todd was doing it again — blurring the lines between theirprofessional and personal lives. He didn’t for one moment think she might want to go on a date with him, did he? He was pushing forty surely, and as far as she could tell had no endearing qualities to entice her — not that she ever would be enticed.

She took a deep breath, gearing up for another battle. Shereally didn’t want to trundle down the motorway at half speed in his ancient sports car, teeth rattling and hair whipping around her face. Not to mention, the darn thing broke down moretimes than a sinneron death row.Addon alunch date, and aflightin a tiny, scary aeroplane with only one engine and one propeller to its name, and the whole day would behell.

It wasn’t the first time Todd had tried to persuade her into doing something she didn’t want todo, using her refusal as an opportunity to sulk or to exact a different commitment later on. It was all so wearing.

She focused on his voice again: the cut-glass accent that she used to admire so much, but now simply found grating, and crawled out of bed. Sleep would not come again now. She opened her blinds, putting hermobileon speaker, trying to focus but more pressingly, trying not to yawn.

The tops of the trees outside her window swayed gently, the maple leaves turning russetred, and whiteclouds shimmied across a magical blue sky: England atits best.All doubts disappeared.

‘I’m sorry, Todd, but I’m babysitting my sister’s daughter.’ She focused on the dust motes swirling in the sunlight and drew a smiley face on her bedside table, idly wondering how her flat could get so dusty in five days when a pot plant was the only animate thing in there. ‘It is my day off, remember?’

‘Suit yourself,’ he replied grumpily. ‘I’m sure most people would love such an opportunity.’

‘And I hope you find that perfect someone to fit the bill.’ Picturing the mask of disapproval on theother endof the phone, she added quickly, ‘Have a lovely day! It looks likeideal flying weather.’

Todd almost always used a tone of voice that bordered on an order, rather than a request.She’d put it down to his RAF background at first, but she’d since come to recognise him as a bully who used his position and history as leverage to behave badly. Because of that she’d soon learnedto be wary of him, butkeepinghim at arm’slength was as exhausting as the jobitself: keeping rich passengers happy until they reached their destination.

Waiting forhis response andknowing she would pay later for refusing, she wondered when the status of their relationshiphadchanged so markedly.

‘Fine.’ A long pause. ‘Oh,I’ll needyouto fly tomorrow. Expect Simon from Ops to call you.’The clipped tone said so much more thanhis words, but she wouldn’tlethim rattleher.

She’d spent the last five days flying over the freezing wastelands of Kazakhstan, from one oilfield to the next, as obnoxious passengers drank the bar dry and chain-smoked foul-smellingcigars until her eyes streamed. They must have paid well over the odds, aseven Todd made no comment on their smoking,justslammedthe flight-deck door closed and feigned ignorance. Fighting over the phone with Todd was a breeze in comparison, but shewas wiped out and needed to relax and recover, and she wouldn’t let Todd ruin her day off even if he did manageto ruleherlife.

‘That’s great,’ she said, trying to inject pleasure into her voice. ‘Thank you. I need the flight pay.’

‘As much asyouneedyourjob,I’m sure.’

It took her amoment to recognise the veiled threat, and she heldher breath, determined not to give him any more bait. She forced a smile to maintain her equilibrium — it usuallyworked when she’d rather speak hermind.

The silence lengthened, but she knew she could wait it out betterthan he could. ‘Right, then,’he eventually said.‘I’ll bidyou good day.’

This time her smile wasfor real. She’d won the battle, even if winning the war was along way off. ‘Bye,Todd, enjoy your day.’

Hanging up, she exhaledloudly,herhand shaking, as she put herphone back on the bedside table and sat down heavily on the bed. She stared atthe wallfor amoment before regainingher composure. ‘A shower,I think.’ Her words soundedforced, but she was determined to putTodd outof her mindand make themostof the day.

She showered and dressed quickly, sliding a black cashmere jumper over her head andpulled on jeans which she then tucked into her long leather boots. She grabbed her jacket and keys, slung her bag over her shoulder, and gave her flight bag, sitting on the floor, a determinedkick as sheletherself out. The unpacking and washing could wait.

Elsa,herfive-year-oldniece, stood waiting by the door when Scarlett reachedher sister’s house and, on seeing Scarlett, she squealed. ‘Can we go to the park and take Buster with us,please?’ she begged. ‘Mummy has to go out, andhegets really lonely on hisown.’

The dog’s lead had already been clipped to his collar, so it looked pretty much like a done deal. Scarlett smiled and tickled the mongrel’s ears. ‘Of course we can. I know you can keep him under control.’

Elsa beamed at the compliment and didn’teven make a fuss when Scarlett pluckedher coatfromthe banister andhelditout,knowing thatElsahated wearingit.

Louisa, Scarlett’s sister, rounded the living-room doorway wearing a grey suit,herhairin a neatchignon. ‘Hi, darling,howareyou today?’

Scarlett gave her a tired smile. ‘Yeah,fine,nothing much to report. Knackered, as usual.’

Louisa smiled in sympathy, and rubbedat her sister’s arm. ‘Youlook pale.Are you looking afteryourself?’

‘I know what the subtexthereis, andyes,I am, thank you.’ She tried to look brave, even though she suddenly felt weary andlonely.

Louisa huggedher. ‘I just worry foryou. Youhave hardly any social life.’

‘But on the upside,I do get to servesome pretty good food to some pretty amazingpeople, even if they aretheonly oneswho think they are amazing.’ Her smile wasself-deprecating now.

She knew she should try to regainher zest forlife, but that particulartunnel hadno pinpoint of light burning bright at its end.

Louisalooked ruefully at Scarlett asshe slippedon highheels. ‘Yes, well, we’ll talk when I get backfromtheinterview.’

Elsa stood on tiptoes for a hug, and Louisa kissed the top of her head, smoothing down her soft curls,asshe picked upher coat.

‘Good luck,’ Scarlett said, folding Elsa’s pliable body into her own, in case she made a fussoverher motherleaving.

‘Thanks! I think I’llneedit. You do haveyourkeys to get back in, don’tyou?’

Scarlett nodded while fishing the spare keysoutof her bag, which she wavedin front of her sister’s face.

‘Great, see you later.’ Louisa opened the front door and headed out.

Buster, recognising the signs, waited impatiently as he thumped his tail on the parquet floor and stared at Elsawith hisbig brown eyes.

‘Comeon, Aunty Scarlett, Buster wants to go.’

Scarlett picked up her bag, let Elsa and Buster out in front of her, then slammed the front door behind them, and together they strolled tothe park.

Scarlett breathed in the crisp air, the breeze lifting and twirling her hair. England had neverlooked so good after the extremes of Kazakhstan where the wind had frozen her cheeks andnose,instantly turningher eyelashesinto icy spiderlegs. Even so, summer was coming to an end and there was a definite chill in the air that she hadn’t felt last week. She pulled the sleeves of her jacket down over herhands, trying not to think about another lonely winter heading her way.

‘Aunty Scarlett, look! There’s the man who sings songs for Mummy. Come on.’ Elsa pointed at someone in thedistance, and Scarlett recognised the outline of the busker, his wild corkscrew hair fighting its way outof a peaked cap.

She grabbed atElsa’shand, her heart sinking. ‘Shall we walk theotherway to the park, darling? Theice-creamman isoften on the cornerof the street.’

‘No,I want to see the singer. He’s my friend.’ Elsa skipped ahead,leaving Scarlettno choice but to follow.

As they drew closer, Dylan broke into such a smile of welcome it made Scarlett’snormally formidable exterior melt. She smiled back,relieved thathe wasn’t bearing a grudge at the way shehadturnedhim down.

He managed a little wave for Elsa as he wound down the song he was singing, and whenhe’d finished, he rested the base of the guitar on his foot, casually holding the neck. ‘Helloagain.’ His blue eyes pierced Scarlett’s once more, the intensity of them making her feel as if he wastrying to readher mind.

She broke eye contact and took an involuntary step backwards, afraidhe might hypnotise her.

Elsa did the opposite and stepped forward, grabbing his hand. ‘This is Dylan. He’s mymummy’s friend — and mine.’ She beamed up at Scarlett. ‘We give him money.’ Elsa swung his arm,her smallhandengulfedin his.‘Andhe watches me dance, don’tyou?’

Dylan winced. ‘Ouch, that sounds really bad. Hello,Elsa, Buster.’ He reached down and strokedthe dog, while beaming at Scarlett.

‘You two know each other?’ Scarlett asked, stating the obvious.

‘We have form together, don’t we?’ He winked at Elsa and raised his hand to be high- fived.

‘Give him some money, and tell him your name. He’ll make up a song with your name in it, honest he will.’ Elsa slapped Dylan’s palm with her own and danced a little jig aroundhim.

Dylan raised an eyebrow. ‘Well . . .’

Scarlett hesitated. ‘I’m Elsa’s aunty.’

He gaveher alook that said Elsa’s aunty wouldhave to do betterthan that.

Scarlett sighed. ‘My name is Scarlett, but you’ll have a hard time coming up with something that rhymes with it.’

‘That’s a lovely name, and don’t worry, I’ll write a song especially for you.’

‘It’s true, he will. He did one for me!’ Elsa looked delighted as she circled around both of them wind-milling her arms, drawing them closer together.

‘Really?’

‘Don’t sound so surprised. It’ll cost you, though,’ Dylan said, his eyes teasing.

‘Give him some money, Aunty Scarlett.’ Elsa pulled on Scarlett’s sleeve, her face shining with excitement.

‘I don’t want money, Elsa.’

Elsa looked from Dylan to Scarlett, a frown creasing her smooth forehead. ‘Would you rather an ice cream, then? That’s where we were going, to the ice-cream van parked all the way around the corner of the other street.’ She enunciated clearly, dragging out the word all while gesticulating with her hand. ‘But I said we could get one at the park café, as I wanted to see you.’

Dylan gave Scarlett a sidelong glance that said she’d been rumbled, but he kept his smile in place. ‘They do a mean latté at the café by the lake, too, if you fancy one?’ he asked.

The sincerity of his smile pulled at Scarlett, but she shook her head, not wanting to offend him, but equally not wanting to spend time with him.

‘Come on, Dylan, I’ve got bread for the ducks!’ Elsa picked up his old hat that he used for busking and shook it carefully. ‘And you’ve got lots of money in your hat. You could buy me a milkshake, too.’

‘No problem, beautiful girl.’ Dylan winked at Elsa as he wound his guitar strap around his neck once more and pushed his guitar around to his back. He slid the coins from his hat into his pocket and plonked it on Elsa’s head as he fell into step beside Scarlett. Scarlett stared in horror at the old hat perched on Elsa’s head, wondering how many germs were on it, but managed to refrain from commenting. And if she didn’t know better, she would have bet Dylan’s last purloined pound that the whole thing was a set-up, but as she glanced suspiciously at him, was unable to think of a single reason why he shouldn’t be busking at the park, as anywhere else.