One Fine Day. Teresa Morgan F.

can’t say no. He only does it because I’m his boss.”

      “If you say so.” He’d noticed how Brett had looked at Ruby earlier, even if she hadn’t.

      “So how’s your morning been?” Ruby asked, deliberately changing the subject, Steve thought.

      “Not as scary as I thought.”

      “Good, I just hope your cover doesn’t get blown.”

      “Relax, Ruby, I’m feeling confident about this.” For good measure, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, which he’d almost forgotten he’d been wearing. “I even broke a glass to appear clumsy.”

      “Don’t break too many!” Ruby stared, horrified. “Or I’ll have to fire you.”

      ***

      “Ready, Bro?” Ruby arrived at the bar, coat over her arm.

      Steve nodded, wiping a glass and placing it on the shelf behind him.

      At times, she found it easier to stick to calling him Bro rather than Stuart. Butterflies fluttered inside her stomach every time she thought about this little lie, and whether she’d let his true name slip. So far, Steve had managed a whole day in the hotel and everyone he’d worked with or spoken to seem satisfied. To her relief, no rumour floated around saying ‘Steve Mason is in the building.’ She realised, with a pang, she didn’t want him to leave. Not yet, and if his identity was revealed he’d have to. This game had to work. For her sake, she thought selfishly, as much as Steve’s.

      She was the least worried about Callum – he wouldn’t know a celebrity if they whacked him in the face with a script. Lydia was fairly quiet, kept herself to herself – that’s why she’d chosen her to train Steve on reception duties. Only someone like Alice could be the real problem. Even with Steve’s disguise, he was still a handsome man.

      Disguise? Was she kidding herself by giving Steve a boyish haircut and a pair of glasses? It had worked for Superman, but that was fiction. Comic or film. It wasn’t real.

      Callum and Brett, and the rest of the hotel staff did not call Alice ‘Man Eater’ behind her back for nothing.

      Dear God, that woman practically had a new conquest every weekend – or at least it felt like it the way Alice would talk of who’d taken her out to dinner. She was always dating – compared to Ruby who was never out. Ruby didn’t know where Alice found the time, considering she worked as a beautician privately too. She had a lot of private clients she tended to on her days off and evenings.

      She was the female version of Steve. She had assets and knew how to use them. Would Steve fall for Alice’s charm? Alice was nice enough – in small doses – but she didn’t seem as though she was ready to settle down – yet. Which was what Steve wanted, wasn’t it? He could pick up a party girl in LA. Alice would look good on his arm though. A handsome couple.

      What if Steve fell for the wrong woman, and had his heart broken all over again? Was this a good idea?

       He’s a grown man, Ruby. He’ll be fine.

      “Yeah, now I’m ready,” Steve hung up the towel and walked round the bar to greet Ruby, giving her a big bear hug.

      “Hey, not at work.” She blushed. “The staff will be walking all over me.”

      They separated at the locker rooms; Steve heading into the men’s. When he came out, he was changed into his normal clothes, shrugging on his coat. Callum and Brett walked out with him.

      “Hey, shouldn’t we go down the pub for a pint, to celebrate Stu’s first day?” Callum said.

      “Yeah.” Brett nodded, glancing at Ruby.

      “Oh, it’s up to Stuart, he hasn’t got a car.” Ruby flustered, then turned to Steve “I can pick you up later, though – if you want to go.”

      “You can come, too,” Brett said, hesitantly, removing his glasses and smiling nervously. Ruby noticed Callum’s groan. They didn’t usually include ‘the boss’ in the pub invitation. “You’re part of the team, too.”

      “Oh, I don’t know.”

      “Ruby, come on, we could do with winding down. Let me get to know these guys a little better,” Steve said, trying that twinkle with his eyes lark again. “You’re coming, too. Lydia?”

      Lydia and Alice had come out of the ladies’ changing room.

      “Okay, yes, I can come for one drink.”

      “Alice?”

      Alice already had her lipstick reapplied. “You didn’t even need to ask, gorgeous.”

      Ruby buried her anxiety. Don’t panic. Alice called everyone gorgeous – except for Callum.

      ***

      Steve bought the first round in the busy pub, full with after-work drinkers. Ruby had muttered in his ear, “Don’t flash your money around.”

      He had to remember not to try too hard to fit in.

      And not to drink too much, too.

      The British were alcoholics compared to the Americans, and Steve had steered clear of too much drinking behind the scenes of the film industry, where it was laid on after a long shooting session. He’d witnessed first-hand the mess it had got some younger actors into. And older ones. Steve had kept clean and sober, not wanting to be in rehab before he was thirty. Luckily, he was the sort of guy who enjoyed life, and didn’t need to get drunk or stoned to have a good time. Maybe that came from confidence. He could socialise with anyone, laugh at anecdotes, and had learned to bite his tongue to those he didn’t quite gel with, walking away at the first opportunity, and not looking back.

      Steve hadn’t set foot in a proper English pub in years. While savouring his ale he observed his new friends.

      His first day – without wanting to jinx things – had so far gone without a hitch. Callum and Brett were a duo, though Callum was more the clown than Brett. In fact, Brett had gone quiet, Steve noticed, and he looked at Ruby a lot.

      Alice remained close to Steve, and he’d get wafts of her floral perfume occasionally, which wasn’t overpowering. He’d be quite happy to breathe it in all day.

      He listened to them all chat, getting to know them a little better, telling him their tales of work. Their best and worst guests. Callum and Alice were the real talkers of the group.

      Ruby sloped off to the bathroom, and Callum nudged Steve, almost spilling his pint.