Angel (9 page)

Angel looked at him, not quite able to grasp the
fact that someone who could talk to anyone here
was seeking
her
out. He insisted on buying her a
drink and they spent the rest of the night together,
huddled in a corner, chatting and flirting and
oblivious to everyone around them. He was
extremely easy to talk to, confident and charming.
He reminded her a little bit of Juan and she realised
how much she had missed having that male
attention. Mickey had seen her photos and wanted
to know all about her, how her career was going,
where she was living, what she thought of London.
In turn, Angel asked him about the band. She had
never met a pop star before.

'But I haven't asked you the most important
question yet,' Mickey said teasingly towards the end
of the night. 'Do you have a boyfriend?'

Angel shook her head quickly. 'No, no, I'm
single. What about you?' she added hesitantly,
suddenly very much wanting only one answer.

Mickey slowly nodded. 'Me too.' The two of them
smiled at each other.
God, I really fancy him!
thought
Angel, surprised at the intensity of her feelings. He
was lovely, warm and funny. And he was gorgeous,
with pretty-boy looks, intensely blue eyes, blond
hair and a muscular body, which looked pretty fit
all over, if his chest was anything to go by. She was
getting quite a good look, as his shirt was
unbuttoned to just above his waist.

'Want to get out of here?'

She nodded, still unable to believe her luck. The
best-looking, most famous guy in the club had been
talking to her and her alone all night. She'd noticed
girls all around them throwing her envious glances,
and Vicki and Lisa were skulking close by, watching
jealously. Only Andrea had occasionally given her a
thumbs-up, smiling at her encouragingly.

'Fancy coming back to mine? I've got a great
view from my apartment and we could have a
drink.' He took her hand as they made their way
out of the club. Outside, Angel breathed in the
fresh air, glad to be away from the noise and the
crowds. Part of her thought,
Yes, why not?
But the
other side thought,
I bet he doesn't just want to talk.
And if he really wants me, he can wait.

She shook her head firmly. 'I've got a shoot
tomorrow afternoon, I really should go back and
get some sleep.' She looked at her watch, hardly
believing that it was already half past two in the
morning.

'Okay, well at least let me give you a lift back and
I can get your number and stuff.' He smiled easily,
pointing at his limo waiting by the kerb.
No harm in
that
, Angel thought as she got in. As soon as the
door was shut, Mickey pulled her towards him and
started kissing her.
Wow
,
what a fantastic kisser
. Her
head was still saying to hold back, to wait, but she
was helpless against the desire building up within
her as Mickey started caressing her. And suddenly
her body was saying
yes, let him, this feels so good
.
Finally she pulled away, tried to control her
breathing, and murmured, 'What about the driver?'

'He can't see us through the screen and, anyway,
he's paid to keep his eyes on the road.' Mickey
unbuttoned her dress and stroked her nipple,
slowly, tantalisingly, then bent down and started
kissing each one, which provoked a powerful chain
reaction in other parts of her body. She moaned
with pleasure as Mickey touched her thigh,
gradually moving higher and higher until his
fingers brushed against her French knickers and
began caressing her. She felt herself unfurling,
yielding to his touch, and became temporarily
oblivious to her surroundings, to everything but
Mickey. Suddenly, the driver stopped and Angel
was jolted out of her haze of lust. She pulled away
from Mickey and hastily rearranged her dress, saw
that they'd braked for a red light. If Mickey was
disappointed he didn't show it, instead he smiled
and leant closer to her, whispering, 'That was just
a taster.'

That night, for the first time in ages, Angel didn't
go to sleep thinking of Cal. Instead, as she closed
her eyes she allowed herself to imagine that she was
back in the limo with Mickey. And this time they
didn't stop . . .

When Angel woke up the next morning, the first
thing she did was reach for her phone. Yesss! There
was a text from Mickey. He must have sent it as
soon as he got in:
How about dinner tonight x
. Angel
thought about being cool, waiting another couple
of hours or so in order not to look too keen, but she
was so excited she couldn't hold back.
Yes x
, she
texted back. And then, desperate to talk to someone
about Mickey, she called Gemma, even though it
was still early. She was expecting her friend to be
pleased for her, but after she'd revealed what had
happened and how much she thought she fancied
him, Gemma didn't say anything for a moment,
then, sounding cautious, said 'I don't know, Angel,
I think he's got a bit of a reputation. And you always
see pictures of him falling out of a club, looking
pissed. Just watch yourself.'

'Oh, come on, Gemma, he didn't seem like that!'
Angel replied crossly. 'And I thought you'd be
pleased that I'd finally met someone else.'

'I am,' Gemma said soothingly, realising that she
should have been more enthusiastic. 'I just don't
want you to get hurt.'

'I'm only going out for dinner with him,' Angel
replied, exasperated. She had been hoping for a
good old gossip about Mickey, discussing all the
juicy details, but here was Gemma, pouring cold
water on the whole thing. They talked about other
things for a minute, then, in order to end the
conversation, Angel pretended she had to get ready
for the shoot, because she didn't want to show how
angry she was with her friend. It wasn't until she'd
stomped off to the gym to burn off some anger and
a fair amount of sexual frustration that she calmed
down.

She had a shoot with Richard in the afternoon,
this time for one of the other tabloids, which Angel
enjoyed because she got to be slightly more
adventurous with her poses. Today was about what
lingerie to wear for a mini-break with a new lover
and Angel had great fun posing in sheer pink
camisoles and French knickers, saucy leopard-print
bras and matching briefs, and a scarlet lace bra and
matching thong. Richard had brought in some
furniture, so she reclined on the pink velvet sofa for
several shots and then sat at the cute white dressing
table.

Over the last two months she'd grown really fond
of him, and loved working with him. She found
herself confiding in him about Mickey as Danni
touched up her make-up in between poses.

'He sounds lovely, darling, but just be careful.
You know what these pop stars are like,' Richard
said protectively.

'Oh, not you as well!' Angel groaned. 'I've just
had my best friend giving me earache about him!'

'It's because we care about you, isn't that right,
Danni?' Richard replied.

'Yep, and I know you won't want to hear this,'
Danni said, 'but he has got a bit of a reputation with
women – he seems to collect glamour girls, so make
sure you're not just adding to his collection.'

'Okay, okay,' Angel grumbled. 'But please,
please will you help me sort out my make-up before
I go and meet him at the restaurant?'

'I will if you promise to drink more water in future,
especially after a rough night. It's the best thing when
you're knackered and means I won't have to slap on
so much concealer in future,' Danni said.

'Yeah, yeah, whatever,' Angel muttered. Danni
was always telling her to use this product or that
product and to be honest she couldn't see what
difference it made. When she was twenty she'd start
worrying about her skin, in the meantime, so long
as she took her make-up off every night, what was
the problem?

'You look gorgeous,' Mickey told her, as she slid
into her chair, Hakkasan's maître d' hovering
nearby.

'Thanks,' Angel replied shyly, 'I've got a good
make-up artist.'

Mickey smiled. 'I reckon you look just as good
with it all off.'

Angel blushed, secretly thinking,
Well that's not
something you're going to see for a while
.

The restaurant's famous cocktails were amazing
and the food was delicious, but Angel hardly
touched it. She was sitting forward on the edge of
her seat, leaning into Mickey across the table,
totally wrapped up in him. He was like a breath of
fresh air, entertaining, funny and charming. She
would never have imagined someone so famous
being so completely normal and down to earth. He
knew everything about the celeb scene in London,
who was going out with who, who had done what,
who'd slept with who, and he had accepted her
immediately as a member of that scene, too. By the
end of the meal, Angel couldn't help herself. She
was falling for him.

'So what happens now?' Mickey asked as they
settled the bill. Angel had insisted on paying half
and even though Mickey hadn't wanted to let her,
she wouldn't take no for an answer.

'I'm flying to Spain tomorrow for a shoot and
I've got a really early start, so I'd better get home,'
Angel replied, longing instead to go home with
him.

She was instantly rewarded with Mickey
groaning, 'Don't do this to me! Come back to mine.'

Angel shook her head. 'It's not that I don't want
to, it's just—'

Mickey cut in. 'You're treating me mean to keep
me keen – believe me, Angel, you don't need to, I'm
already keen,' and he leant over the table and
kissed her. Angel felt her resolve melt the moment
his lips met hers, and just as she was trying to think
about a way to accept his invitation after having said
no already, Mickey stopped, leaving her desperate
for more. She looked at him, her cheeks flushed,
but he just shrugged and said, 'It's up to you, babe.'

The evening had lost a little of its shine as they
stepped out of the restaurant, hand in hand.
Trying to look unconcerned, Angel worried about
Mickey.
Am I doing the right thing, making him wait? Or
will I push him away?
She stopped just outside the
door, wanting to reassure Mickey that she did really
like him and that she would love to see him again,
but just as she was about to speak a photographer
leapt out into their path, temporarily dazzling the
couple with the flash, and then legged it down the
street.

'Oh no!' Angel exclaimed. Now their first date
was going to be out in the open for everyone to see
and talk about. She had only just come to terms
with people staring at her in the shop or on the
street and whispering. Having a paparazzo follow
her was a completely new experience, and although
Carrie was always onto her about getting more
exposure, she hated the idea of her private life
opened up for everyone to see.

'Glad to see my manager got something right for
once,' Mickey said, sounding pleased.

'What do you mean?' Angel demanded.

'Well, I told him we'd be here and he tipped off
the photographer. I thought the publicity would do
us both some good. The papers are bound to want
the story.'

Angel let go of his hand abruptly.
What? Is this all
I am, some juicy publicity? A bit of totty for Mickey to be
seen out with?

'Hey, what's the matter?' Mickey asked, as Angel
started walking, slowly at first, then more quickly.
She had no idea where she was going; she just knew
she had to get away. He ran after her, but Angel
refused to stop, feeling furious by now.

'I don't like being used, Mickey.' She rounded
on him when he'd caught up. 'If all you're looking
for is publicity, fucking leave me out of it.'

'Babe, I wasn't – I thought it would be good for
both of us.'

'I hardly know you and I don't want to be in the
papers for this.' And, seeing a taxi driving towards
her with its light on, Angel held out her hand to hail
it.

'Don't go now, please, I'm sorry I fucked up. I
really like you, Angel, don't go,' Mickey pleaded.
But Angel had already opened the door and
jumped in. She didn't look back as the cab pulled
away.

She felt completely deflated when she let herself
into her flat a little later. The evening had started
so promisingly and she really thought she had
something special with Mickey. But clearly he
didn't feel like that. The thought of him making a
public display of their relationship, reducing it
down to a bit of calculated publicity, made her feel
like a fool. The only consolation was that she hadn't
slept with him. She turned off her mobile, took a
long shower and got into bed, where she lay awake
for a long time before finally falling into an
exhausted sleep.

'You were right to warn me about Mickey,' Angel
said miserably, having spilt the whole story of what
had happened the night before to Danni. They had
flown to Malaga that morning, where Angel was
modelling swimwear for a tabloid spread looking
ahead to the next summer's range, and Danni was
putting the finishing touches to her face. Angel
trusted Danni and often found herself confiding in
her. She'd come to rely on her for advice – not only
did she know everything there was to know about
the business, from which glamour girls to watch out
for to which photographers were arseholes, she was
also good at cutting through the crap and sizing up
a situation.

'Come on, Angel, don't let him get to you,' Danni
replied sympathetically.

'I just hate feeling that he was using me. That I
didn't matter to him, that I could have been any
girl,' Angel muttered, trying not to move her face
too much while Danni applied the blusher.

'Well, forget him, there's plenty of other men out
there who won't behave like that wanker.'