Love Me Till Wednesday (Sapphire Stars #1)

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Nick’s phone buzzed on the table in front of him. He glanced at the screen. Adrienne.

‘You can take that if you want,’ the makeup artist said.

Nick leant forward and tapped “Decline”. Adrienne had been in a foul mood with him when he left LA in the small hours of this morning. He’d refused to engage with her wedding plans, and he didn’t want to deal with any more discussions about colour schemes and guest lists and bloody stupid wedding favours now. He had hoped she’d be content with a quick trip to Vegas, but no. She wanted to empty his bank account with the most lavish wedding Hollywood had seen for years.

‘It can wait,’ he said as he sank back into the chair.

He tried to focus on gathering his thoughts for the upcoming interview, but his mind had other ideas.

Nick looked at his reflection in the mirror, wondering, not for the first time, how he’d become the middle-aged man who was looking back at him. The bright white bulbs shining around the mirror accentuated every flaw in his skin, and there were too many of those now for his liking. The crepey neck and wrinkled eyelids were his father’s, not his. He looked and felt every one of his 54 years. Jet lag wasn’t helping, and the relentless rain as he walked out of Heathrow earlier hadn’t just dampened his coat.

Buck up, Nixon. You’ll feel better in a few days. Tomorrow there would be more interviews, followed by a visit to his mother. Then, he could escape back to the warm Californian sunshine.

‘Mr Nixon?’ The woman wielding the powder brush had finished. ‘Are you happy with that?’ she asked, making eye contact with him in the mirror.

‘Yes, thank you,’ he said, flashing her his best smile. She grinned back at him. She had striking green eyes and a good figure, too. Perhaps he could while away a few hours with her later. It would take his mind off his worries and have the added bonus that if Adrienne found out (and there was a good chance that she would - the paparazzi were always very interested in his movements), that would halt the wedding fiasco. Not that he’d ever cheated on her, but it would be easier than having to deal with it directly. You coward, Nixon .

‘My mum’s a big fan of yours,’ the makeup artist said. ‘She’ll be so excited when I tell her I worked with you today.’

He smiled at her again, but not with his eyes this time. Her mother was a fan. Of course. He was old enough to be her father. He was in danger of becoming as bad as that pervy bastard of a manager of Lisa’s band.

Lisa. Despite years of pouring his heart out to the most expensive therapists that money could buy, his thoughts always managed to find a way back to Lisa. Concentrate on prepping for the interview!

He stood up, ready to return to his dressing room, but a commotion outside the door stopped him. He became aware of a woman's strident voice and then a man’s grunt.

She appeared out of nowhere, standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at him, all 5 foot 5 inches of her. Nick’s burly bodyguard, Brad, followed her into the room as fast as he could, which wasn’t that fast, thanks to a limp he hadn’t had a few minutes ago.

‘I need to talk to you, Nick Nixon,’ she said. ‘Now!’

Bloody hell! After all this time, they were finally in the same room. But this wasn’t the loving, caring Lisa of his dreams. This was a seriously angry version. The last time he’d seen her like that was when a music journalist had told her women were in bands purely for decorative purposes. But at least her anger hadn’t been directed at him then. Say something, Nick!

‘Hi, Lisa’ was all he could manage.

As Lisa marched into the makeup room Nick was getting out of the chair. He turned around to look at her. For a moment, it was just like the first time she’d locked eyes with him in Jack’s Bar. Her heart skipped a beat. Oh god, don’t start that nonsense now. Remember this is the man who walked out on you without having the decency to say goodbye.

‘I want a word with you,’ Lisa said. ‘Privately. Now.’

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get any words out, the assistant floor manager bounced in, all smiles and a clipboard, failing to pick up on the icy atmosphere. ‘Oh, Mr Nixon, you're ready. That's great. We need you in the studio ASAP.’

Nick looked like he didn't know who to deal with first. He finally found his voice. ‘Can we talk later?’ he suggested to Lisa.

No bloody way was that happening. If she didn’t talk to him before they were interviewed it could be disastrous. ‘No. This absolutely won’t wait.’

Cheery, bouncy woman’s expression clouded over. ‘Mr Nixon is busy. You shouldn’t even be in here. ’

Lisa glared at her, but the woman was already shepherding Nick out of the room.

‘Afterwards, yeah?’ he said, looking back over his shoulder at her.

‘Just don't mention anything about Jim,’ Lisa yelled after him.

The last thing she saw was a very puzzled-looking Nick.

Lisa headed back to the big dressing room. The rest of the band were still there.

Jim looked up at her. ‘Did you speak to him?’

‘Not properly. I only had a chance to tell him not to mention you.’

Jim sank back into the sofa, looking deflated. Lisa squeezed in next to him and gave him a hug. ‘He probably won't even recognise you.‘

Ed snorted. ‘Fat chance of that. You look just like your dad. Even if he doesn’t notice that everyone else will.’

Pete glared at him. ‘That is not helpful at this point, Edward.’

‘Well, it’s true. It’ll be all over the tabloids by Saturday. Possibly even tomorrow if someone in the audience tips them off. Good publicity, though.’

Jim had his head in his hands. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t go on. I’ll stay here.’

Pete shook his head. ‘They’ve already recorded our performance. You’re right up there at the front with your mum and Ed. You can’t just disappear afterwards. It’ll just lead to more questions.’

Lisa tried to reassure Jim. ‘Pete’s right, darling. Nick’s too much of a professional to make a fuss on camera. Andy won’t draw attention to it either.’ As soon as she said that she realised Andy might see this as a potential scoop for his show. ‘He won’t, will he?’ she asked Pete.

‘No! Of course not.’

But she knew Pete well enough to know he wasn’t 100% confident about that.