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

Chapter Five

Since being turned down by Scarlett in the park, Dylan had gone off the idea of playing in Mac’s pub, but he turned up anyway, helping himself to a shot or two of Dutch courage as he set up his microphone and amps.

Anya tried to jolly him along, but when that didn’t work, she resorted to making him feel guilty about his lack of enthusiasm. ‘Mac has put his nose on the line for you,’ she said, making Dylan think of something shady like cocaine sniffing, rather than risk taking. ‘You must not be ungrateful and take his hospitality for granted. Why have you changed your mind?’

‘I’ve had my mind changed for me. There was a girl I really liked, and I invited her to my gig, but she didn’t want to come.’

‘A girl who doesn’t want to hear you sing — is she mad?’ Anya instantly won Dylan over with her outrage on his behalf, even though, as far as he knew, she had never heard him sing. ‘And you like this girl. Why?’

‘I suppose it boils down to the fact that I fancy her.’ Dylan scratched his head, uncomfortable with such candid talk. ‘Really, though, I don’t know what hit me. I mean, I’m normally a take it or leave it kind of guy, but — I don’t know, she just walked past me in the street, laughing with a friend, and I felt this incredible surge of . . .’ He puffed out his cheeks, trying to nail the emotions that had steamrolled him into believing in love at first sight. ‘It was like being electrocuted, but in a good way, I guess.’

Anya’s forehead creased. ‘A good feeling, yes?’ She seemed unconvinced.

He shrugged. ‘Yes. Have you ever thought you were made for someone, and you just needed to wait until they turned up? Well, that’s how it felt. She turned up, and I knew.’ He shrugged, took another slug of his whisky shot and slammed it back down on the counter with more force than necessary. He sat down heavily on a bar stool slumping dejectedly as if he had been manually deflated.

Anya moved the shot glass discreetly out of his reach. ‘And she feels it, too?’

‘Sadly, I don’t think she’d care if I stopped breathing.’

‘That is a problem.’

He laughed sharply and rose to his feet, a little unsteadily. ‘Yes, that is, indeed, a problem.’

Anya pushed him back down again.

‘Wow, I didn’t think my story wasthatinteresting.’

‘I’m getting you some coffee and a sandwich. You have a long night ahead of you.’

‘You mean I’m getting pissed?’

‘Pissed.’ She enunciated it slowly. ‘That is a good thing, no?’

‘It is a very good thing, and it’s a very good feeling, until it hits you that you can’t walk properly.’ He nodded in agreement, wishing he could have just a drop more whisky to ease his pain.

Thankfully, by the time Anya had fed him Mac’s Bacon and Cheese Special, usually reserved for Mac’s hangover mornings, and had coffee poured down his throat until he was buzzing, he felt heaps better.

But it came nowhere near to the feeling that hit him when he glanced up to see a swish of blonde hair and the almost shy, pink-lipped smile of the very girl he’d been waiting for.

* * *

‘Hi, Dylan, I told you I’d try to make it.’ Scarlett pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, inexplicably nervous. Her flight had run smoothly, and she’d arrived back in plenty of time to turn up and watch Dylan sing. She’d dumped her flight bag, changed quickly into jeans and a jumper and was untying her hair from its ponytail even as she slammed the front door minutes later.

Unfortunately, she’d mentioned her plans to Todd, using it as an excuse to turn him down when he started dropping hints about going for dinner after the flight. He’d immediately googled the Dog and Duck, found out they served food, and more or less invited himself along. She’d reluctantly agreed, thinking she could kill two birds with one stone and get him off her back for a while. A decision she was already regretting.

‘Wow, you look great. I can’t believe you’ve made it. It is you, isn’t it, under all of that stuff?’ He peered at her made-up face, and Scarlett was hit with another adrenaline inducing shot of his blue eyes.

‘Sorry, I’ve just finished work, hence half-work, half-me.’ She had no idea why she was apologising for her make-up which was mostly like a second skin to her, spending more time at work than at home, these days. ‘We’re not allowed to wear our uniform to pubs, in case people think we intend to go to work after drinking alcohol, so I quickly rushed home to change. My flight was a quick there-and-back to Nice, so — here I am.’ She stopped abruptly, aware she was rambling.

‘Nice, eh?’ he asked, looking impressed. ‘And how was it?’

‘Nice was very nice,’ she quipped, as she always did.

Dylan smiled. ‘And you came straight here to be at my gig. That’s brilliant. Come and sit at the bar. Mac will keep you company while I’m on stage. I’ll get you a drink. Wine?’

‘Umm, thanks. Sauvignon Blanc, please.’ She wondered whether she should mention that Todd was coming, too, but didn’t have enough time to decide because he walked through the door and spotted her immediately.

Striding over to her, he greeted her rather more effusively than she thought it merited, embracing her and kissing her cheek. ‘Scarlett, looking as lovely as ever.’

‘Todd, you saw me half an hour ago.’ She pulled away, feeling the usual rush of embarrassment as he ostentatiously unbuttoned his pilot’s epaulettes from his shoulders, just too late for it to be a useful thing to do. In effect, it told everyone close enough to see: look at me, I’m a pilot, but I’mnot allowed to show everyone in a pub environment.

He was a short man with a barrel chest, a long nose and lips that were too mobile and rubbery to be considered handsome, although he had the air of someone who thought he was. He also had a dismissive and commanding manner, probably from a public school upbringing and inherited money. Money, Scarlett had discovered, brought power and confidence — and often — or at least in Todd’s case, shed-loads of arrogance.

Scarlett looked at him with guarded distaste, heartily wishing she’d put up more of a fight to stop him from joining her.

Dylan returned from behind the bar at that moment bearing a glass of wine and a bottle of beer. Scarlett caught his eye, as he stopped dead, looking at first perplexed, then indecisive. Although he faltered, he soon rallied, straightened up and smiled at Todd. ‘Hi.’ He placed the drinks on the bar.

‘Hello,’ Todd replied, barely looking at Dylan. ‘We’d like a table for two, for supper.’ Todd glanced around the pub, his mouth turning down at the edges. ‘Good grief, Scarlett, is this the sort of place you frequent?’ He flicked at his sleeve as if he’d already been contaminated by its sleaziness.

‘I said you wouldn’t like it,’ Scarlett hissed out of the side of her mouth, praying he would leave and find a restaurant more suited to his snobbish tastes.

He tapped his watch, frowning, as if he’d already spent more time than he was willing to, on such an establishment. He glanced at the drinks Dylan had placed on the bar. ‘You ordered drinks. Great.’ He picked up the bottle of beer, read the label with interest and took a sip. ‘Beer’s fine, for now. I’ll have wine with supper. Thanks, not bad.’

Dylan raised his eyebrows and folded his arms, his head cocked to one side.

‘Dylan, meet Todd. He’s . . . umm, a colleague.’ She turned to Dylan, hoping he would understand although it didn’t look promising.

Todd nodded across at Dylan. ‘Captain Carrington,’ he said briefly, before gazing around the pub. Dylan obviously wasn’t important enough to waste any more energy on.

For a second, Dylan looked as if he might salute, before pulling a what the hell face at Scarlett. In return, she tried to convey an apology with her eyes. She really shouldn’t have invited Todd along.

‘You say there is entertainment tonight?’ Todd looked down his very Roman nose as if the thought of it made him shiver.

‘Yes, it’s me,’ Dylan said, carefully. ‘And I’m just on the right side of drunk to be looking forward to it.’

‘Oh.’ Todd lifted his nose into the air once again, in a way that allowed him to look down the length of it, at Dylan. ‘Good for you.’

Anya appeared at Todd’s side at that moment and offered to take them to their table. Todd smiled graciously and took Scarlett’s elbow in a proprietorial way.

‘Good luck,’ Scarlett threw over her shoulder hoping that she could redeem herself later, once she’d managed to shake Todd off. She knew she’d have had a better time staying at the bar, but instead she turned towards Todd, ready to play the dutiful hostess role that came so easily.

Except, Todd, having finally managed to get her alone, appeared to think that she had signed up for more than her duty. ‘We’ll order a bottle of wine, and I can sober up back at your place.’ He took the wine list Anya proffered. ‘It is walking distance, isn’t it?’ Todd asked, as he studied the menu.

Alarm bells began to ring. Her place? What was he thinking? ‘Erm, well . . .’ was all she could manage, cursing herself for not immediately putting him right. The last thing she wanted was to have to fend him off all evening, and once he got inside her flat it would be almost impossible to get rid of him.

Todd closed the wine list with a flourish. ‘We’ll have a Macon Villages. That one.’ He stabbed the wine list with his finger, dismissing Anya, and turned his rather bulbous eyes towards Scarlett. It didn’t seem to have crossed his mind that Scarlett might have liked some say in the choice of wine. ‘So, about this offer to Le Touquet. We happen to have two days off together next week, and I could do with testing out a King Air that’s going up for sale. What do you reckon, shall we make it a date?’

Her heart thumped with panic. He was moving fast all of a sudden, and it scared her as much as it horrified her. ‘Work and pleasure, what an . . . ideal combination.’

‘Really? Is that a yes, then?’

Her mind worked quickly. She couldn’t believe he was being so blatant. ‘No, not really. And you’d be the first to condemn it. In fact it’s in my contract that I mustn’t fraternise with the staff, or clients, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but I part own the company.’

‘Oh, I see. So, it’s do as I say, not do as I do.’

Todd reached over the table and trailed a finger down her arm, making her shiver, but not in anticipation. ‘I don’t know why you’re being difficult about this, I’d make sure we enjoyed ourselves. Don’t you think we would have a good time together?’

Scarlett swallowed down the gross images that flitted through her mind at the thought of the two of them having a ‘good time’. She took a large gulp of her wine, even though she was determined to stay sober in case she needed a clear head later. ‘Maybe some other time,’ she said vaguely, waving her hand in the air. Like in a parallel universe, whenthere isno airto breathe in.

‘Okay. When?’ he asked.

She glanced over at the bar, hoping to catch Dylan’s eye and give him a smile, but he just glowered at her, eyebrows drawing together, lips set in a hard line. She had made a huge mistake she now realised. She’d humiliated Dylan, who thought she’d wanted to see him, and Todd thought she’d accepted his offer of dinner for the same reason. She needed to focus on Todd, though — after all, her diplomacy could be the difference between keeping her job, or not. But Dylan? Inexplicably she wanted to be by his side for his big moment, and yet she hardly knew the guy. It was confusing.

She managed to avoid answering Todd’s direct question as Dylan took to the makeshift stage and started to strum his guitar. ‘Hi there, all.’ The room fell silent as he spoke, and he gave a little wave that made Scarlett’s stomach flip with nerves on his behalf. She prayed he was as good as he seemed to think he was.

‘If I’m too loud, or too annoying, just let me know, and I’ll tone it down, or even, if you’d rather, I can shut up completely — I’m cool with that, too.’ As he grinned at his audience, they all looked as if they were metaphorically egging him on, willing him to be fantastic.

After strumming a few chords, concentrating on his guitar, he raised his eyes and scanned the crowd, his gaze settling briefly on Scarlett who smiled encouragingly. He didn’t acknowledge her but gave a rueful grin to the pub-goers, as if to say here I go, then. He started singing, melodic and soulful, his voice gentle and sweet, and the room went silent.

Scarlett found herself both astonished and mesmerised, hardly tasting her food as she forked it absentmindedly into her mouth. His guitar playing was brilliant, and his voice was beautiful, now she could hear him through a microphone. She also noticed that he also looked rather gorgeous in a pale blue linen shirt, unbuttoned just enough to show a smattering of curly chest hair. Okay, so the jeans had seen better days, but ripped knees were stylish and at least they looked clean. How had she not spotted how hot he was sooner? To be fair, she had clocked his long legs before, and his wide smile, but suddenly it was as if she was seeing him for the first time.

He was relaxed and funny when he spoke in between songs, and when he finished his last song he was greeted with thunderous applause. Some of the customers even stood up to clap. He beamed with genuine pleasure as he left the makeshift stage with another self-conscious wave.

Feeling pride she hadn’t earned, Scarlett wished Todd wasn’t sitting opposite her, his prim mouth set in a moue of disapproval.

Her heart stumbled a little as Dylan caught her eye, heading for the bar, but his smile died on his lips, his eyes sliding away from hers.

She felt cold at the thought that she had upset him so thoughtlessly. She stood up quickly. ‘Todd, I must congratulate Dylan, I won’t be a minute.’

‘Must you?’ Todd snapped, his pout deepening, but Scarlett ignored him and walked over to Dylan.

She put her hand out to congratulate him, but he walked straight past her and behind the bar. He looked brooding and angry, as he helped himself to another drink, pushing a small glass up to the dispenser, concentrating on the clear liquid splashing out.

‘You were brilliant, Dylan. Fantastic.’ She sounded patronising, even to her own ears, but she smiled wider, hoping he’d forgive her for bringing Todd.

He raised the glass. ‘Cheers.’ He downed it in one and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘Dylan?’

‘Just don’t, okay?’ His voice was so low, he almost growled, his eyes flinty and hooded. She didn’t know what he meant, but she knew quiet anger when she saw it.

‘Don’t what?’

‘Don’t bother doing this artificial congratulatory thing, as if you care.’

‘I do care.’

Dylan’s smile twisted into something resembling a sneer. ‘I think we’re about done here, don’t you?’

‘What . . . What do you mean?’ she stammered.

His blue irises were like points of solid ice freezing her smile into a rictus as he glared at her.

‘You didn’t need to ram it home, you know. I might not wear a city boy suit, or a posh uniform with stripes on my shoulders, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid.’ He thrust his chin out in Todd’s direction. ‘Oh, I don’t date, you know,’he mimickedhervoice,falsetto.

‘Oh, you mean . . . ?’ She glanced over at Todd, stabbing out a message on his mobile with his forefinger. ‘No, he’s a work colleague.’

‘You let them all touch you in that way, do you?’

She took a step back, stung. ‘No, and that’s not fair.’

‘I should have realised you were a flirt as soon as you said you were a stewardess.’

Scarlett felt her jaw drop. ‘How dare you pigeonhole me like that? You know nothing about me.’

‘And, Scarlett, the corporate air stewardess . . .’ He pushed the glass up against the dispenser once more and scowled. ‘I think it would be best if we leave it that way.’

His words hung in the air, as she took in his meaning, and she let out a breath. ‘Fine by me!’ Her mouth tightened as she glared at him. She wanted to stomp off, but couldn’t seem to move, wondering how they’d managed to argue when they barely knew each other. ‘You were the one who started this,’ she threw at him, her own anger rising at the unfairness of his attitude. She didn’t know what her point was, and she knew her anger was misplaced.

‘And I’m calling it in.’ Dylan ran his fingers through his hair. Their eyes locked, both firing a mixture of anger and regret.

‘Is this chap bothering you?’ said a familiar voice.

Scarlett rolled her eyes, forced to break eye contact, as Todd placed himself between herself and Dylan.

‘No, he isn’t, and he won’t bother her again.’ Dylan’s gaze raked over her face, the stark anger already replaced by sadness that belied his words.

‘Let’s go, then. I’ve paid the bill.’ Todd put his hand on Scarlett’s arm and threw Dylan a dirty look, while Dylan glanced at Scarlett as if to say Really? He’syoursort of man?

Scarlett didn’t want to leave with Todd, and she didn’t want Dylan to think she did. She wanted Dylan to put his hand on her arm, staking a claim the way Todd did, but he didn’t move. She threw him a pitying look, determined to hold the moral high ground. If that was how he behaved, then he didn’t deserve her loyalty, anyway.

As Todd patted her hand, she groaned inwardly. What the hell was she doing? No way was he even walking her home let alone getting inside her flat.

She wanted to explain to Dylan how it was with Todd. The hold he had over her, manipulating her with his threats and sexual overtures. She was so confused, but really, she just wanted Dylan to like her again.

Except, that would mean she cared about Dylan and that wasn’t how she felt, at all. Was it?