Reach for the Stars: A feel good, uplifting romantic comedy

‘This is the nursery. There’s some furniture that needs shifting. It would be great if you could help.’

‘Okay, Red.’

‘The name’s Layla.’

‘I know that.’

‘Oh really?’ Her eyebrows shot up. ‘I thought you’d forgotten my name.’

‘No, I didn’t forget. I guess I kinda like your hair.’

‘Well don’t.’

‘Don’t like your hair?’

‘Yes, well, no.’

‘It’s super high impact.’ He stifled a laugh while she thought about it.

‘I know that. But there’s more to me than my redness in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Oh, I noticed!’

Either she didn’t hear his half-whispered reply or ignored it. She was insanely attractive. Her perfect curves grabbed his attention. When he’d met her on Christmas Eve at Alex’s wedding he’d been dating Toni, otherwise he’d have been tempted to …

But now the thing with Toni was as dead as a dodo. It had imploded the moment he broke the news he’d received in Fran’s email. She’d been categorical. She couldn’t see a future with him. Which was just as well because he’d realized that he didn’t want that either. He wasn’t a long-haul type.

‘You must be wondering if it’s pantomime season already.’

‘I wasn’t thinking anything of the sort.’ He swept her with a slow, appreciative glance amused by her paint-spattered clothes, and the baggy purple shirt covered in what appeared to be a cats-and-dogs-holding-umbrellas print and concluding that it wouldn’t go down well if he admitted that, in fact, he thought she looked hot. Waking up staring into her pretty eyes had been quite something. ‘Anyway, it’s the middle of July.’

‘Come to think of it, you and Alex would make awesome Ugly Sisters. You should mention it to your agent.’

‘I’ll keep it in mind. If I’m ever offered Widow Twanky, I’ll know exactly where to come for a hot pink headscarf.’

Layla laughed, relaxing. For no apparent reason she untied and retied her hair. It was good that she’d lightened up. ‘I expect the costume supervisor will have something much zanier in mind.’

Acting on his attraction would be a major detour off plan. All he wanted was somewhere to stay – well away from cameras. He needed to clear his head. It was lucky that the policeman had turned up when he did and his impetuous suggestion about Paris had been forgotten. He needed to pull himself together.

It pained him to admit it, but he was out of control. He’d gone to see Fran but there was so much distance between them. Still, he’d agreed to everything she’d asked of him; promised to be her back-up in the event of a bad outcome given what she was facing. He owed her that. The word mess didn’t come close to covering it.

He shut everything out. Except for Layla. Apparently, she came with the accommodation. She went to pick up a flat packed baby crib.

‘Here, give it to me.’ He reached out and took it from her. He’d been crass, calling her Red. He’d treated her like there was nothing more to her than her appearance. ‘I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to.’

‘That’s okay. I don’t know why I got so touchy about it.’

‘Because I was being an asshole?’

‘You’re forgiven. I’m glad you’re here. You make lifting that thing look like it’s a box of matches.’

‘Careful, there’s more to me than a bunch of useful muscles, you know. Where do want it?’ He fired her a look. He couldn’t help it. Her eyes sparkled right back at him. Her smile was sunnier than the summer day outside.

‘In the other room. Please.’ He felt the way she averted her gaze, trying not to look as he hefted the first flat pack into the other bedroom. She was staring out the window at the far horizon when he came back for the second. There was something potent about that avoidance. She magnetized him. He watched, feeling like an obstacle cramping her space, as she snapped the lids off pots of paint and set to work focusing on her drawings and her paints.

‘Is it alright if I take a shower?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘And then I’ll go for a walk. I’ve got some things to figure out. I’ll do my best to keep out of your way.’

‘Yep. Okay.’ Not turning away from the wall where she was painting dabs of colours from different test pots she chewed her lip thoughtfully. ‘See you later.’

‘Towels?’

Concentrating on the wall she asked, ‘Which blue do you like best?’

It wasn’t the answer he’d hoped for. He stared at the colours seeing virtually no difference between the two blues. ‘Both.’

‘I prefer the lighter one, it says summer to me and it will make the room feel bigger, I think.’

‘Absolutely.’

Leaving Layla absorbed in her work he went into the bathroom figuring he’d air dry. A minute later blasted by an icy jet of water he let out a yelp several decibels louder than Ophelia’s.

Just deserts?

Layla’s arm appeared around the door, her hand offering a large fluffy towel. The rest of her stayed strategically outside the door, but he could hear her muffled giggles.

‘I forgot to say. There’s no hot water. The immersion heater is on the blink.’ She paused, and added charmingly, ‘Oops!’

His wet fingers grazed hers as he clutched for the towel. She pulled her arm away quickly, as if she’d had an electric shock.

‘I guess you could go next door and use mine. In fact, look, given the state of this place, perhaps you’d better stay with me.’

Still hidden behind the door, he didn’t need to see her face to know from the tone of her voice that she wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect. ‘I’ve had more enthusiastic propositions,’ he joked.

‘I don’t doubt it,’ she challenged, mockingly sweet. ‘My spare room’s not exactly the Ritz. You might be more comfortable at the Manor House Hotel. In fact, you definitely would be.’ Suddenly as jumpy as a box of frogs she babbled her words in a rush. She made him smile from the inside out. ‘If you like, I can call and see if they have availability.’

‘Your spare room sounds good to me.’

‘I’d better warn you I don’t cook. I don’t have time.’

‘That’s not a problem. I do. I’m a domestic god in the kitchen.’

‘Even if you do say so yourself.’

‘When I’m not bingeing on vegetable soup, vitamin supplements and egg white omelettes, that is! To tell you the truth, when I’m prepping a role or a photo shoot I need to be careful.’