Chapter Three

Having finished a call to his daughter, John picked up a bottle of water and drank half of it. Leaning back against the luxurious leather, he closed his eyes.

With his ex, Anya, determined to suck every ounce of joy from his life over the past year, he struggled to remember when he had last laughed so much. He hadn’t realised how much the stress of the past year had piled up.

And all for what…the judge had awarded custody of his little girl to Anya with unlimited visitations for John anyway. For all her insecurities, even after knowing John close to five years, and her bitter recriminations about his alleged affair with a co-star, Anya was dedicated to their daughter.

And he had to be happy with that. One thing was for sure. His heart wasn’t in acting anymore. He had gone into modeling for money, which had led to acting. The hunt to land the most prestigious role, the competition with other actors, the need for yet another award, the hunger for the biggest production house courting him, how had such petty things become so important? When had he begun to believe in all the vacuous glitter?

He hadn’t been guilty of cheating on his wife, but he had been guilty of neglecting both Anya and Neena, guilty of forgetting what was important.

But he was done with acting. He wanted a new challenge.

Instantly, his attractive and unconventional chauffeur’s cutting, and fittingly acidic, response to his statement, her beautiful eyes looking daggers at him, came to mind.

‘Fictionalised, fantasy sex symbol…’ he said loudly, a quiet laugh building inside his chest again. His critics would have a field day with that stinging assessment. He was that and more, his onscreen persona nothing but another role he had fallen into without realising what it had cost him.

The slender shoulders of the woman who had cut him to size so well stiffened.

His exposure to Anya’s unrelenting vitriol last year had turned him into a wounded dog, taking out chunks of any woman who dared cross a word with him, or even look at him the wrong way. Wasn’t that why his manager and his assistant pushed him into this trip? Because he needed a change of scene.

What he needed was not a change in scene, but a change in his lifestyle. He needed to go back to basics, he needed to remove all the artifice his acting had brought into his life.

He smiled, his gaze once again on his chauffeur. Ms Singh was more real than anyone he had met in a long while.

* * *

Tanya pulled onto the curb outside the Chatsfield, awed by the majesty of the red-bricked building. Two uniformed guards stood on either side of the huge, arched entrance and she got a peek of sweeping marble foyers and a quietly exquisite lounge as the doorman held the door open for a guest.

Luxury vehicles were queued up in front of them, each more of an engineering marvel than the next. Sunny had always teased her about her thing for cars, and nothing had changed about it.

She had no idea if she had made a sound, but Mr Bollywood spoke then, his voice a rugged whisper teasing her senses.

‘Now I understand why fictionalised, fantasy sex symbols do nothing for you, Ms Singh. It’s cars that turn you on.’

Even though his words could have been construed as invasive, there was an easy humor in his voice that made Tanya laugh. She met his gaze in the rearview mirror and smiled. ‘You caught me, Mr Patel. Cars do it for me every time.’

A sudden tension swamped the interior and Tanya dragged her gaze away from the mirror. His comment had sounded funny. Hers sounded weirdly intimate. So much for remaining professional. She still had the rest of the night to get through.

Even keeping her gaze resolutely away from him, curiosity about why he was in London beat like a drum in her head. An important meeting, he had said, irritated at a mere lipstick stain.

She had read about his alleged affair with his co-star, who incidentally hailed from London. Was he here for a tryst with that actress? Had the emotion she had heard in his voice earlier just been another bow in his acting skillset?

As another car cleared from in front of them, Tanya pulled forward a little more, and pulled the handbrake up. Straightening her shoulders, Tanya struggled not to betray the butterflies in her stomach. She met his gaze again in the rearview mirror.

‘I hope your stay is pleasant, Mr Patel. If there’s anything else I can help you with, have reception page me.’

For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything. Then he nodded. ‘Wish me luck, Ms Singh.’

Struggling to keep her expression one of pleasantness, Tanya kept her gaze on him. She couldn’t tell if he was playing with her or if he was being genuine. ‘You need luck, Mr Patel?’

‘All of us need that mystical element, whether luck or chance or just a kick up the backside from time to time.’

Had seeing him today, when they inhabited two very different strata of life in two different parts of the world, been a sign to Tanya that she needed to start living again?

When his silence swelled in the decadent interior, she cleared her throat. ‘Of course, good luck to you with your meeting.’

His mouth twitched and he nodded. Dragging her gaze away from him by sheer will, Tanya looked straight ahead. A uniformed attendant opened the car door. The next few seconds felt like a few hours as she fought the temptation to turn her head and see Mr Bollywood step inside the famous hotel.

Now, he was truly out of her sphere.

* * *

Having parked the car in the waiting zone, Tanya entered a narrow carpeted corridor towards the back of the hotel, following the signs to the chauffeur/driver zone. What she saw stole her breath instantly.

First of all, she had been surprised there was a separate waiting lounge for chauffeurs and drivers. Secondly, she hadn’t expected it to be this grand hall with thick carpet, luxurious lounging chairs, and an open buffet that ranged from fresh fruit to flaky croissants and a variety of cakes and scones.

Two huge plasma screen TVs were blaring on either side of the room and a stack of the latest magazines lay on a coffee table. Pouring herself a black coffee in a mug with the trademark C logo of the Chatsfield on it, Tanya grabbed a magazine and sank into the lush chair.

Meeting the gaze of another chauffeur, she nodded, and gave into the smile pulling at her lips. The almost upstairs-downstairs arrangement both amused and surprised her. If the waiting hall for hired staff was like this, she couldn’t imagine what the interior of the hotel itself looked like.

Just like any other room, Sunny would have said with his down to earth humor. The sudden reminder of him coming to her in the middle of the day didn’t bring the usual melancholy with it and Tanya expelled a shaky breath.

She took a sip of the coffee and sighed with pleasure as the dark blend pumped her with much needed caffeine. When a small ruckus at the other end of the waiting hall sounded out, Tanya looked at her neighbour inquiringly.

‘There’s a small gap in that door from where you can see the front lounge. And sometimes, you can catch a quick glimpse of the guests. It’s like a who’s who of celebrities out there.’ The older man stood up, his excitement palpable. ‘Want to come and watch?’ he asked Tanya.

Shaking her head, Tanya laughed. ‘No, thank you. I’m great here.’

Seeing the gorgeous John Patel was all the excitement she could handle for this year.