Chapter 11

Cooper

It’s been less than six days since I left the farm and yet, despite having been working every day, despite having been on set for hours and hours each day, I’ve thought of little else but Tulip.

She’s been on my mind constantly. I’ve missed her, missed the farmhouse, Clover, Blossom, the animals, and the fresh air. But mostly I’ve missed Tulip. Spending time with her, seeing her smile, laugh, teasing her when she gets awkward and shy after we’ve made love, and even that scrappy little tough side she gets when she feels defensive.

But it’s coming up to half six on Saturday evening and she’ll be here any minute. I was desperate to see her and Clover last night, but I knew I’d be on set until late, and so I arranged reservations for them at a top restaurant. One that specialises in chocolate desserts because Clover is the biggest chocolate fiend I’ve ever met.

Clover and I have already made our entrance, and the girl was a natural on the red carpet, a proper professional. She totally outshone me with her dazzling smile and sweetest comments when reporters asked her how she felt to be coming to a premiere with a megastar. In true Springfield family fashion, she simply replied, ‘He’s just Coop, nothing special,’ gave me a cheeky wink, and on we went.

Tulip didn’t want to walk the red carpet, refused to even come in the same car with Clover and me in case I talked her into it. Which I would have tried to, definitely. I’m okay with her decision, respect the fact she didn’t want to be out in front of all those people. What I didn’t accept was her coming alone. Over our late-night texts, we agreed she’d come a little after the chaos, but that I would send a car for her, she was not travelling the streets alone or by public transport. Thankfully, despite many protestations, she finally relented.

On the ride over I’ve heard all about Clover and Tulip’s time here in London, and I’d so have loved to have been there with them, shown them around, seen Clover light up at the special treatment she received, and watch Tulip try on dress after dress until she found the one. I’ve heard all about that, too. The floor length peacock halter neck with chiffon beaded top. It meant nothing to me, just words, a dress is a dress, plus I knew Tulip would look gorgeous in anything.

What I wasn’t ready for, was seeing her in it.

I’ve been in those movies, the ones where the crowd parts and the beautiful woman stands at the entrance, looking around for her date. However, none of the women in those movies have ever looked as stunning as Tulip does right now.

“Fuck!”

Clover giggles to my right. “Told you it was perfect.”

“Perfect? It’s … there are no words for what that is.”

Honestly, what I wanted to do was pick her up and take her out of there before the wolves noticed her. She was easily the most beautiful woman in the room. Though, I suspect she may be the most beautiful woman in any room. However, to most of these jerkoffs here, they’d only notice her dressed like this. Me, I rather like my jeans and flannel shirt version of her, the relaxed, comfortable her.

“She used to be a model,” Clover says as Tulip arrives in front of me.

“Shut up, squirt,” she says, blush rising on her face. “I modelled once, for a horse magazine. When I was eighteen.”

“You look stunning,” I tell her, a kiss to her cheek, gentle, restrained from the full-on one I so desperately want to give her.

“It’s not too much?”

“Not at all. You’re perfect.”

We have little time to talk as the movie is due to start, and we’re ushered through, but I spend the whole movie looking at Tulip, watching her reactions. It’s the times she looks over at me though, the subtle sideways glances across Clover, who sits between us, that spin my mind. We’ve barely touched since she arrived and yet all I can think about is holding her hand. It’s not even anything more than that, it’s the simple things I want with her, holding her hand, having her beside me, falling asleep next to her.

Because, in just two weeks, I fell in love with Tulip Springfield. I don’t think it even took two weeks to be fair, I think I was falling from the second she pulled up on her bike. All I know is there’s no way back for me. She’s the woman I want to be with. And once we finish this movie, I’m going with her back to her hotel, and I’m going to tell her.

****

“Let me just get this media stuff out the way, and I’ll be with you. It’s just a few photos and we’ll get going,” I tell the girls once the movie is over and we’ve let Clover hang out for a while, see everything that’s going on.

“Go, do what you need, we’ll be over here. Don’t rush on our account,” Tulip says, leaning forward and kissing my cheek.

The photos are endless, snap after snap of me grinning with my co-stars, producers and directors, even random celebrities who happen to pass by.

“Hi baby.”

Bunny.

I hear the voice seconds before a mouth descends on mine. I’m dazed and confused as arms snake around me, as photographers close in, circling us, and flashbulbs go off all around.

“What the fu—”

“Baby, I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, I had an appointment in town, you know, at the doctor,” Bunny stage whispers.

What the fuck is she playing at?

I try to twist out of her arms but she’s like an octopus. How many limbs does this woman have? I swear she was a normal human being when we spent time together for this film. Not now, now she’s the ocean dweller version of Godzilla. What I’m failing to understand, is why.

There’s just one person I’m thinking about now though, and I can’t see her anywhere. She’s not where I left her, not over at the bar, and as I turn full circle, I catch her and Clover heading out the main door. By the time I break away from the photographers and outside, though, they’re nowhere to be seen. And she’s not answering her phone either.

I’m in a cab within minutes, ignoring the constant ringing from my jacket pocket, probably my agent who grabbed me briefly as I flew out the door, hissed that Bunny’s pregnant and saying it’s mine. It’s not, there’s no way in hell it’s mine. So, I intend to keep ignoring it until I’ve seen Tulip.

But what do you do when the woman you’ve just realised you want to spend the entire rest of your life with doesn’t want to talk to you? When she won’t even let you up, has ensured all staff are well aware you’re not to be let past the lobby?

You sit in that lobby and dial her phone over and over and over, that’s what you do.

Or you do – until she turns her phone off and it goes straight to voicemail.

You beg the woman on reception to phone up to the room multiple times to tell Tulip whatever she saw or heard wasn’t what she thinks, that you’re going to sit right there in the lobby – all night if that’s what it takes – until she’s ready to talk to you.

Or you do – until the receptionist, after the first call up, refuses because their guest has asked not to be disturbed anymore.

You try to sneak up to the room, head towards the lifts several times, subtly and quietly, bold and brazenly, whatever works.

Or you do – until you’re spotted by either the receptionist or the security guard and eventually thrown out of the building.

I do the only thing I can then. I skulk around outside, send her message after message, leave voicemail after voicemail, knowing they’re not being read or listened to. It’s only when a large group stops outside the hotel, chat for a moment while a couple have a smoke, talk about getting a drink at the hotel bar before going up to their rooms, that I get an idea.

Flanked by my new group of friends who thankfully agreed to help me sneak in, wearing a jacket borrowed from one of the guys, head down, women chatting noisily all around my hunched figure, we make it into the lifts. And once I’ve thanked them profusely and said goodbye as they get off on their floor, I head on up to Tulip’s room.

“Tulip, can we talk?”

I may have made it up here, but I know I’m on borrowed time if I have to stand here and shout through a door. Someone will call down to reception to report the disturbance. It’s a nice hotel, I made sure of it, wanted them to have the best treatment. But with that comes a high-end clientele, the kind who don’t take kindly to domestic disturbances outside their hotel rooms.

“Please, Tulip, come on, open up.”

With no answer from Tulip, I wonder if Clover would help and knock on the next door along. I booked them adjoining rooms, I can get to Tulip through Clover.

“You dare open that door Clo, and you’ll be grounded for a month,” Tulip shouts, clearly having heard my knocking next door.

“Clover, please. I know you have loyalty to your sister, but sweetheart, let me in.”

With neither answering, I eventually sit opposite Tulip’s door, back to the wall, and wait. “I’m going to sit here Tulip, I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

Amazingly, nobody has me thrown out and I don’t see anyone at all for the next hour and a half. Which is when Tulip opens her door, looks at me, then walks back into the room, leaving the door wide open. I’m in that room and closing the door faster than a lightning bolt across the sky.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t what it looked like. I didn’t know she was going to be there. We worked together on this film, and I’ve not seen her since. I promise you. I have no idea what that was,” I rush out. “And as for what she’s saying, it’s lies, we never even so much as kissed other than on set. I definitely didn’t fucking sleep with her.”

“I know.”

Okay, I’m officially confused. “So why did you leave?”

She closes her eyes, scrunches up her nose for a second. “Because we’re not together and yet it still stung. Because I like you. Because the last two weeks have meant more to me than they should have. Because I thought we … it doesn’t matter.”

I take her hand, pull her to me, wrap my arms around her. “It does matter. You matter, you’re the only one who matters. And I like you too. Tulip, I want to be with you. The last two weeks have meant everything.”

Tears fill her eyes and I want to take all the hurt away, turn the clock back to just before the moment I went off for the photos. Instead, I’d take her hand, put my arm around Clover and take them both out of there, protect Tulip from feeling like this.

“A million people are going to read her lies tomorrow, see you in the papers kissing her. I can’t compete with that.”

“Baby, there’s no comparison.”

“If we were together, that’s all it would ever be. He’s slumming it, she’s punching above her weight, he’s too good for her, she’s just a farm girl. I can’t.”

“Who cares what ignorant people say?” I ask, kissing her cheek, the edge of her mouth.

“Coop, please, don’t. Can you go now?”

“Tulip, no. Don’t push me away.”

“Thank you for giving Clover tonight, she loved it.”

“Anytime. But Tu—”

“Please go. I need to get out of this dress, I feel a bit overdressed for hanging out in a hotel room. I don’t really pull off classy glamour.”

“Oh, but you do,” I say as I look down at my suit, pull at my tie. “We could be overdressed together. Let’s sit, talk. Please.”

She shakes her head. “Can we leave it? It was a nice time, special, but it wouldn’t work. Let’s just have it as a good memory, yeah?”

I know that the sadness in her eyes reflects in my own. And I won’t put her through this. If she wants to leave it, then I’ll walk away.

I nod, my heart breaking. “For what it’s worth, I … I enjoyed every second with you Tulip Springfield.”

“Same, Cooper Fox.”

I kiss her then, but it’s not how it usually feels, this feels final and wrong, and like I took a wrong turn somewhere. Like I should retrace my steps and find where it all got so off course so I can bring it back to where we should be. I was meant to tell her I love her tonight, not lose her forever.

I can taste her tears as we part, both lost to the emotion. The wrong emotion. We were meant to celebrate tonight. Celebrate us. But as she closes her eyes. I kiss her one last time, a gentle kiss on the cheek, and I walk out.

I don’t stop walking until I’m out of the hotel and around the corner. And it’s there I lean against the wall and cry.

“Coop?”

The tiniest voice lifts my head. “Clo? What are you doing out here?”

“I shouldn’t have been listening, but I did. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t look fine. You’re upset, she’s upset. This isn’t how it was meant to end.”

“Tell me about it, kid. It’s not how I hoped tonight would go, either.”

“She’s been hurt, you know?”

That gets my attention. “Tulip?”

Clover nods. “Yeah. She doesn’t talk about it, but her boyfriend of three years cheated on her when our parents died. She found out the day of their funeral, saw them kissing just before the ceremony. It was one of her friends too. Ex-friend now. He said he tired of her being miserable … that he had to go elsewhere. And a month later, they announced they were having a baby.”

“She was fucking mourning her parents. What kind of fucking moron does that?”

“He wasn’t the first guy to hurt her. She has a habit of picking them, but he hit the hardest, had been together the longest, thought he was different.”

I see now why she couldn’t carry on with me, couldn’t let us become something more.

“Maybe she was right then. There’ll always be a Bunny, or some crazed fan with a doctored photo, some tabloid rag with a fabricated story. She’d never trust me. And that will eat away at her.”

“But you love her, I know you do,” Clover argues.

“Sometimes, to protect those you love, you have to walk away. It doesn’t mean you don’t love them, just that you’re putting their happiness above your own.”

“But she loves you too.”

“Sometimes that’s not enough.”

Clover stares at me for a moment, blinks. “Then make it enough. Because if you don’t, you’re not the man I thought you were.”

With that, she turns on her heel and stomps off along the street. I round the corner after her, watch her until she gets inside the hotel. And then I grab a cab and head back to my lonely, stark apartment.

And cry until morning.