Chapter 10

Before I could leave the bathroom, still washing my hands, more of the women in the group came in, Kai's partner coming to stand near me and redoing her lipstick.

"Jack seems to have taken a shine to you," she said a moment later.

"He's been very kind," I replied. "Especially after that awful interview."

"Oh, don't be too hard on yourself." She turned to me. "You handled it well. There's likely to be fallout, though. Might want to keep your head down for a few weeks and not make headlines for other reasons. The press'll move on soon enough."

"Thank you," I replied, grateful for what appeared to be genuine care and advice as I moved to the towel dispenser and started to rub the moisture off my hands.

"You looked like you really meant it when you said you wanted our Jack to have a happy ending. You've got a sweet heart, but anyway, let's not keep the guys alone for long. They get strange ideas and up to all sorts of mischief."

Before I could do anything but finish drying my hands, she slipped her arm through mine, thankfully on my less bruised side, and tugged me out of the bathroom with her.

The other women who had come in with her were left behind, making me wonder if this had been a bit of a setup or if I'd been pursued with the purpose of bringing me out again.

Whatever the reason, I wasn't about to ask. But I was going to be wary. It was already clear there were plenty of people watching Jack and his social life, and the last thing I wanted right now was to be in the spotlight or to be judged by other women. I was in the middle of a separation and a divorce.

It was lucky enough that I hadn't been asked about it during the interview. I didn't need to open myself up to prying eyes here or attract jealousy from others.

As I emerged, I spotted Jack again, the man clutching another soda as he and Kai stood talking about something off to one side of the group. Although I glanced his way, I was pulled in another, my companion keeping my arm pinned at her side and leading me back to the snacks.

"This is Emily," she said. "And because there's been so many names that you've probably been overwhelmed already, I'm Alma. We were just talking about how strange this business can be for women, especially when the media likes to make us look like bitchy money-grabbers hanging onto men with loads of money and heads easily turned by pretty women."

"Deep subject," I replied, surprised but also grateful for the courtesy and warmth I was being shown.

"Very, but we face it every day, and it takes a brave woman to walk into it with an idea of what she's getting herself into."

I lifted an eyebrow. Was this a warning of sorts? Was I being told not to expect much of Jack? My body wasn't in the best shape. Some of the women here had perfect figures, flat stomachs, manicured nails, and spotless makeup. I was still wearing the makeup the TV stylists had put on me, and I was far from perfectly formed around the middle.

I noticed Alma was less of the ideal shape, but she had an amazing dress sense. Her trousers were loose but styled enough to show off curvy legs, and a well-cut blouse showed she had plenty to offer on the top half as well.

For a while, I listened as Emily moaned about a recent tabloid article on her dress at one of the band's events and how it had apparently made her thighs look fat.

It reminded me that Jack lived in a very different world, and I wasn't a great fit for it. Or at least, as Alma had suggested, I would be walking into it blind.

Maybe it was a good thing I wasn't very famous yet. I'd wanted a movie deal for as long as I could remember, and I was so close to having my books sell well enough for that. A TV series was possibly enough, but equally, I knew of many other authors who had climbed this high and been gone from everything five years later.

Was this why? Was fame a double-edged sword?

"We've got to go, babes. Need to sort out an issue with one of the plans for the music video tomorrow. It's making Jack antsy. You know what he's like. Won't rest ‘til he knows it's fixed," Kai said, interrupting us.

I looked behind him to see Jack already hurrying out the door, his bodyguards following. Kai strode off after them, and a couple of the band members left too until the room was a lot emptier.

Involuntarily, I shivered and looked back at the group of women I was with.

"Oh, didn't he say goodbye?" Elsie said, coming up beside Alma and grinning just a little too much to look sincere.

"Leave her alone, Elsie," Alma replied for me. "She's Jack's guest, and even if she wasn't, I like her. Knows how to write a story and works hard, from what I hear."

"Yeah, well, at least she's got that going for her." Elsie flicked her gaze up and down my clothes and body.

Before I could even think of a response, let alone say it, Elsie turned and walked away, the ice in her glass clinking and the liquid almost sloshing over the side.

"Sorry," Alma replied. "She's had her eyes on Jack for some time. Never particularly happy about anyone new joining the group if it might threaten her attempts to bed him. Or have him bed her. Not sure which she's after."

"Oh, she's welcome to him if it makes him happy. I'm not interested in another relationship right now," I said, knowing I meant it.

Jack had been lovely, and maybe he'd make a great friend, but that was all I needed right now.

With this in mind, I turned back to the conversation with Alma and Emily, the topic having moved to great Christmas movies. There were always lots of feel-good romances, and it seemed even the wealthier women of the world swooned over the happy endings and the handsome men who ended up with the heroines.

However, the conversation didn't have the same feel to it, and I soon found myself both bored and tired. It was time to leave.

After letting Alma know I was pleased to meet her and making sure she knew it wasn't just a British pleasantry in her case, I made my way out to the street and looked for the telltale sign of a black London cab.

Thankfully, we were in a busy enough part of the city that, even late at night, one arrived within only a minute or so, and I was soon on my way to the hotel.

As soon as I sat in the back, my hotel destination in the driver's possession, I found my mind turning to the last time I'd been in a car. The way Jack leaned closer just to lift my chin and check the color of my eyes.

Exhaling, I stared into the busy night, car lights and street lights illuminating the many people still out and about in the city.

"You look a little familiar, love," the cabbie said a moment later, glancing in the mirror at me.

"Must just be a similarity," I replied, as I usually did. "Unless you like to read fantasy."

"Yes, you're her. That author who was on O'Sullivan's this evening," he said, the excitement of discovering someone slightly famous in the back of his car making his eyes light up.

For a moment, I wanted to shake my head and deny it, but I hesitated just a fraction too long and missed the polite window to deny it.

I forced a smile and listened, knowing that all most people wanted was to be acknowledged and listened to for a few minutes. And it wasn't like I was going anywhere.