All That Glitters (12 page)

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Authors: Ilana Fox

BOOK: All That Glitters
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Chapter Eight

It was ten minutes until show time, and Ella was convinced that she was either going to faint, be sick, or just die of fright. The studio lights beamed down onto the stage, audience members were buzzing with anticipation as they took their seats, and the production team rushed around making last-minute checks. Ella watched the action nervously, and she wondered if she could really go through with this – if she could really be a credible television presenter. Okay, so they’d rehearsed this show twice and it had gone smoothly, but she hadn’t done it in front of an audience waiting for her to mess up. And it hadn’t been broadcast. Live. In front of millions and millions of people. Oh God.

‘Are you ready for this, Ella?’ Nash’s voice came through her earpiece, and Ella jumped in surprise. Nash and the production team were watching her every move on screen from the gallery, and even though she knew they’d have just seen her looking petrified, she took a deep breath and smiled.

‘I’m good – a bit nervous, but really excited!’ she gushed. What else could she say? The truth? That as much as she was honoured to have been asked to present the show, she felt totally out of her depth and so strongly attracted to Johnny Cooper that she desperately wanted to run away?

‘Think of your nerves as a good thing,’ Rachel West interjected. Rachel was one of those feisty, self-confident women who also happened to be one of the best producers in the country. She commanded absolute respect and Ella thought she was brilliant. ‘Just remember everything we discussed in rehearsals, and channel that nervous energy into a knockout performance. Remember, if you get stuck just smile, press your finger to your earpiece, and we’ll direct you from up here.’

Ella nodded. ‘You guys have been great,’ she said honestly, and she started to pace the set in the hope it would psych her up. She knew the audience was watching her as they got settled into their seats, and that as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t have a pre-show meltdown. ‘And Nash, thanks so much for being here. It means a lot to me.’ Ella stood still for a moment and stared up at the gallery. Although she couldn’t make out everyone’s faces, she could see the outlines of people, and it was comforting to know Nash was up there. Okay, so he wasn’t the friendliest of men, and there was something about the way he acted that made Ella feel like he disapproved of her in some way, but he was on her team. On her side. Having supportive people around her was a massive comfort, even if they were only doing it because they were on the Ridings’ payroll.

‘Just doing my job,’ Nash said wryly, and Ella ignored the tone of his voice.

‘Five minutes!’ a voice called out, and suddenly the flurry of activity stepped up a notch. Ella started pacing again, and tried desperately hard not to think about what was about to happen. She concentrated instead on how her fierce Fendi heels were pinching her toes, and how – as much as she loved it – her stunning Marc Jacobs tank dress in antique violet and gold made her look chubby. It was true, TV
did
pile on the pounds, and even though she was slender, Ella’s body wasn’t built for the screen. She was too curvy, and had too much going on in the breasts and hip department to have the perfect TV presenter’s body.

‘You’re so gorgeous when you’re nervous,’ a voice said from behind the cameras, and Johnny Cooper stepped out of the shadows. He was in a beautifully cut suit, but was heavily made up with standard TV foundation, and his dirty blonde hair was gelled into stiff peaks. During the last couple of rehearsals he’d just worn jeans and T-shirts, and he’d looked so sexy that Ella wondered if he could sense how attracted she was to him. Every time he’d caught her eye the memory of their kiss flashed into her mind, and her body became alert. Excited.

‘Thanks, I think,’ Ella blushed, and she continued pacing. It was hard enough dealing with Johnny when she was feeling okay – but today, right now, it was impossible. Her stomach was in knots, and she didn’t need butterflies of lust added to the mix.

‘Hey,’ Johnny said so softly, that Ella paused and spun on her heel to look at him. ‘It will be all right, you know. You’re good at this. You can do this.’

Ella swallowed hard. ‘What if I mess up?’

‘You won’t,’ Johnny said reassuringly. ‘We’ve done two rehearsals and you’ve sparkled on both of them. When the show starts the adrenaline will kick in and it will heighten your performance. You’ll be funnier, sexier, and cleverer. It’s a lot like being in love. Live TV brings out the very best in you.’

He gently placed his hand on her waist and gazed at her for a moment. For once he wasn’t flirting, wasn’t showing off, and for the first time it felt like he was being honest with her. She’d got so used to the Johnny Cooper who’d teased her with a kiss and flirted with her like it was a game that she’d never stopped to think who he was behind that mask. His blue eyes pierced her so powerfully that she felt like Johnny could see right inside her . . . And that he was really seeing her – Ella Aldridge, not Ella Riding, wife of a football player and pampered princess.

‘You’re Ella Riding, remember? You’re married to one of the best strikers in the country, you’re a stylist for
Cerise
magazine, and now you’re a co-host of
A Week in Wonderland
. You’re a star.’

Ella didn’t know if she felt flattered that Johnny Cooper thought she was someone special, or disappointed that he didn’t see the real her, the girl who was so much more than the glossy woman married to a footballer.

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it.

In just a few moments they’d be live on Channel Four, and as the audience became quiet both Johnny and Ella gazed at the people in front of them. Almost everyone in the audience was smiling in anticipation, and some were even waving to them, as if they couldn’t believe that Ella Riding and Johnny Cooper were in front of them.

‘See how all these people can’t wait for your big debut?’ Johnny whispered. ‘That’s how everyone at home is behaving too. Everyone in the country
loves
you since you took on that wanker author on my show – they want this to work for you.’

Ella smiled – a real, broad smile – and ran her eyes across the rows of people watching her. She may not have had friends in the audience, but they felt like friends . . . except one. Ella froze as her eyes lingered on a figure sitting near the back. He was half shrouded by a shadow, but there was no mistaking his purple hair. Sancho Tabora was in the audience.

Three, two, one . . . Go!

‘Hello and welcome to the first ever
A Week in Wonderland
. I’m Johnny Cooper, co-host of your adventures in our new programme . . .’

‘. . . And I’m Ella Riding. As you probably know, this is the first time I’ve presented a show, and I have to say, I very nearly didn’t do it.’

Johnny turned to look at Ella. ‘Why’s that then?’

‘Well, my mother always told me not to talk to strangers, and here I am talking to eight million of them on a Friday night.’

The audience groaned, and Ella grinned.

‘And my first on-air joke just failed miserably. Johnny, perhaps I’m not cut out to be a television presenter.’

‘I wouldn’t say that, Ella. I think you present yourself very well. Nice dress, by the way,’ Johnny looked Ella up and down appreciatively, and the audience laughed and wolf-whistled. Ella had heard the joke several times in rehearsals, yet she still smiled as if it was fresh and funny. Of course, it wasn’t funny. She desperately wanted Johnny to think she was sexy, but at the same time, she was petrified by his attraction to her.

‘But enough about us,’ Johnny continued, flirting with the camera that faced him square on. ‘This show is all about
you
. We’re about what you’re currently talking about, what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, and what you’re wearing. Plus, of course, what you’re eating.’

‘That’s right,’ interjected Ella, with a coy grin. ‘
A Week in Wonderland
is about what’s been going on in our lives over the past seven days – but we’re not
Newsnight
. . . and Johnny definitely isn’t Jeremy Paxman. We’re about the frivolous and fun side of current affairs and trends.’

‘But we’re mainly about our lives. If you want to get in touch follow us on
@Wonderland_Show
on Twitter, and you’re more than welcome to join our gorgeous studio audience too, if that floats your boat. So let’s get cracking. In the news this week Gable Blackwood – the openly gay Hollywood actor – is running to be governor of Florida. There have been protests in the streets because of Gable’s sexuality, and we want to know your thoughts on those marching—’

Johnny and Ella turned to a different camera, and then they were off.

An hour later it was all over, and Ella was brimming over in elation. They’d done it! They’d presented a full hour of current affairs discussion, based on breaking news, trends in music, fashion and food, and had introduced the hottest new band who’d played the show out. Ella couldn’t believe it. It had gone without a hitch, and now she was on a major high.

‘You were amazing!’ Johnny crooned into Ella’s ear, and he picked her up and spun her around on the stage. The audience was clapping hard, and the producers were saying their congratulations through their earpieces, but all Ella could hear and feel was the beating of Johnny’s heart. Her breasts were pushed up against his chest, and the warmth of their bodies turned into an exquisite, electric heat. She kissed him briefly on the cheek, and could taste the saltiness of his skin.

‘No, you were amazing.’ Ella smiled, and she held Johnny’s gaze with her violet eyes. The chemistry between them was unmistakable, and Ella felt it force her back towards Johnny, and into his arms again.

But she had to pull back. She was married. She couldn’t do this.

‘I take it you’re coming to the aftershow?’ Johnny said, as he took Ella’s hand into his and tugged her closer to him. ‘You absolutely have to, you know. It wouldn’t be a party without you.’

Ella swallowed hard. Nobody on the production team would be too offended if she said she had to go home, but Ella knew she had no choice. She had to go, if only for the photo opportunities.

‘Of course she is,’ a voice said, and Nash Barnwell was suddenly standing by her side. ‘She’s one of the stars of the show and she needs to be there.’

Ella smiled up at her manager. He had no idea, of course, that she was desperately attracted to Johnny. And she wanted it to stay that way.

‘Is Danny coming too?’ Ella asked Nash hopefully, and her heart sank when he shook his head.

‘He’s under Aaron’s orders not to have too many late nights. He’s got his underwear shoot with Armani the day after tomorrow, and even though make-up and Photoshop magic makes everything easier for everyone involved, Aaron still wants Danny fresh as a daisy.’

Johnny laughed and raised an eyebrow. ‘Ella Riding, you never told me your husband was going to be an underwear model! What’s he doing, one of those moody black and white shots where he looks all ripped?’

Ella nodded. ‘He’s the new face of their boxer shorts. He still can’t quite believe it.’

Johnny looked impressed. ‘And nor can I,’ he said. ‘To think that my co-presenter is married to the new face of Armani Underwear. Wow. They’ll be asking you to pose in your knickers next – you know, how Victoria Beckham did with David?’

‘Well, off the record, Armani
did
ask Ella to get involved, but we turned them down,’ Nash confided to Johnny. It was no big deal if this piece of information got out. In fact, it would only enhance Ella’s brand values if people knew she turned down Armani.

Johnny’s face turned from impressed to incredulous. ‘You’re kidding, right? You turned Armani
down
?’ He slowly looked Ella up and down, and drank in her curves. No matter how many classy outfits she wore, nothing could disguise the fact that her body was built for fucking, pure and simple.

Nash shrugged. ‘It doesn’t fit with what we want to achieve. And we certainly don’t want Ella to be stripping off for money. No matter how much.’

Johnny couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ella’s body. ‘That’s a shame,’ he said softly. ‘Ella’s got to be the number one most lusted-after woman in the country.’

Nash laughed as if he was one of the few who didn’t think she was hot, and Ella prickled.

‘And to think that we’ve achieved that without Ella having to get undressed,’ he said wryly. ‘Come on, let’s go to the party.’

By the time Ella, Nash and Johnny got to Shoreditch House and had got the lift up to the Lounge the party was heaving. Every member of the production team was there, and various C-list celebs had crashed it. They knew, rightly, that the
Wonderland
aftershow party was
the
event to be at that night, and everyone who thought they were anyone – even if they weren’t – was there, posing for the photographers and knocking back the free champagne.

‘It’s not bad weather; I think you should set up court by the pool,’ Nash directed, as they found the table he’d reserved especially for Ella. The turquoise swimming pool glittered under the dark orange sky, and it really was the perfect place for Ella to sit. From their table they could see everyone and catch all the action without being too involved.

Ella stretched out in her seat and surveyed the scene in front of her. All these people were here to celebrate the first broadcast of a show she’d just presented, so that made her – and Johnny – the stars of the evening. It was amazing. She was used to being stared at and treated like a princess when she was with Danny, but this, well . . . this was something else. This was all for her, and she was determined to enjoy every minute of it.

‘Maybe we should go and sit inside,’ Ella suggested to Nash, who’d ordered them a couple of Bellinis. ‘It’s buzzing in there, and I feel a little like I’m still on a stage out here.’

Nash looked at the Lounge thoughtfully. Everyone was raucously drunk, and people were shouting at each other, laughing, and dancing.

‘No, I don’t think so. It’s better if you stay out here.’

Ella bit her lip. She loved the cool breeze fluttering against her hair, and the fact that she had the perfect view of the party . . . but she wanted to be
part
of that party. She didn’t want to sit on the sidelines, and to have people come up to speak to her like she was receiving guests.

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