Son of Secrets Read online

  Ella shook her head, clearing away the mental image of Josh looking ridiculously cute. Catching Billy’s attention, she pointed out the sign to the chapel and they changed direction. She had to say something—she had to know why Josh was in her hotel and why those two young girls were on the verge of hysterics from having met him.

  ‘So, Mr Patterson. I mean, Billy. The movie you are thinking of filming here, does Joshua de Silva have anything to do with it?’

  Billy stopped, causing her to bump into the back of him. He turned slowly to face her, his eyes so wide his pupils were like tiny dots on a blank sheet of paper.

  ‘What…I mean…did I hear you correctly? Josh is the star! I’m here to research locations for the third film in the Bite Night trilogy.’ He frowned at Ella’s blank face. ‘Please tell me this godforsaken village has a cinema and you’ve seen his movies. Josh de Silva is Dr Cross, the Dr Cross.’

  Ella had never heard of the films. She’d been living in a bubble for the last three years—maybe she’d missed out on more than she realised. She ran her hand over the back of her neck, hoping it wasn’t now glowing a fetching shade of pink.

  ‘How could you not have heard of him?’ Billy sighed. ‘He’s huge! Especially in the States. It’s the British accent, you see; he’s like a supernatural James Bond. He has the daring of Indiana Jones combined with the charm of a young Hugh Grant—but with sexier eyes. The girls love him.’

  Ella was pretty sure Billy loved him, too. So, Josh was big. Blockbuster movie big. This was too weird. What were the chances of one of his films being shot in her hotel?

  Her stomach ached with a sickening twist as the realisation of what was happening hit her. Fate appeared to have finally caught up with her. If what Zac had told her all those years ago about Josh’s part in her destiny was true, then the chances of the actor being at her hotel were high. Very high.

  She shuddered and ran up behind Billy, who was heading for the centre of the old converted monastery which, thanks to Ella, was now the prettiest hotel in the area.

  ‘Interesting architecture,’ Billy said, soaking in the sight of the cobbled patio, small orange trees and carved fountain. He took photos on his phone of the galleried walkway that ran along the middle of the courtyard and made notes in a leather-bound notebook. ‘I read that parts of the monastery were built in the fifteenth century. Great details. Are they original Moorish tiles? We could definitely use this space for some of the scenes. We’ll have to talk dates soon, as we need to clear at least three weeks. Ah, the chapel. I’ve been looking forward to this part. Come on, chop-chop, I haven’t got all day.’

  The chapel was in the heart of the building, accessible from the patio by a side door. You could also enter it from outside via two wooden double doors set in the base of the turret.

  As they stepped inside, she heard Billy’s intake of breath. Even after having lived at the hotel for two years, the ornate little church still took Ella’s breath away. Stained glass windows depicting scenes from Jesus’s crucifixion ran along one wall, sending colourful shadows across the wooden pews. Walking down the aisle was like stepping into a rainbow. Different decorative touches had been added over the centuries, from Moorish to rococo, but it was the enormous cross above the altar which took centre stage. It had been gifted to the monastery by French monks during the Renaissance period, its tips sporting sharp, pointed fleurs-de-lis, giving it the appearance of two crossed spears. Although magnificent, it was far too large and Gothic for the pretty little chapel. It gave Ella the creeps.

  ‘I love that cross,’ Billy said, staring up at the altar. ‘So vampirical. This place is perfect for the movie.’

  Ella nodded silently as Billy pointed out historical features, asked about lighting, and discussed the possibility of moving furniture around. His droning voice became a distant buzz. All she could think about was the fact Josh was just a few rooms away. She never thought she’d see him again. If they spoke, would he apologise for the way he’d treated her before Zac had hit him? She sighed. What did it matter? He probably didn’t even remember her.

  ‘Is this the base of the tower?’ Billy asked. ‘I saw it from the car as we pulled up to the hotel. Is the rest of the tower still in use? Could we film up there? I bet the views are great.’

  Ella hadn’t had a chance to renovate the entire hotel yet—perhaps allowing the turret to be used in the movie would be a way to finance its upkeep? Ella nodded, thinking that she’d have to get the main door to the turret fixed if they were to film up there. It had originally been built as a watchtower. Over the years, the monks had used the room at the top as a library, and it was still full of dusty books and dark mahogany bookshelves blackened with age. When she’d first moved into the hotel with her mother, the locals had talked of the legend of ‘the monks and the wanton woman.’ They said there was a secret passageway from the chapel to the tower where randy monks would secretly meet a mysterious, evil woman who had them under a spell. Pretending to pray for the evening, they would sneak up to the top of the tower in turns via a hidden entrance. Ella had thought it was all nonsense until one day, while polishing the gold on the altar, she’d pushed a panel and a door had opened against her leg that led up a rickety old stairway to the top of the turret.

  There was an official entrance from the street, too, but there was no key for that door, so until the discovery of the secret entrance Ella hadn’t investigated the library. She never mentioned to anyone what she’d found and would often visit the top of the tower, in secret, via the chapel. It was her sanctuary once her mother had walked away from running the hotel and left her floundering. She’d take a duvet and pillow up there, and some nights, when sleep refused to settle—Zac and his bright blue eyes the only things she could see—she would go to the chapel, pray to a god she didn’t believe in, and then clamber up the old stairs to the tower where the moon seemed larger and within reach. The windows were arched and crafted of stone, like that of an old castle, looking out over a sandy bay and restless ocean. The window ledges were wide, and upon them she would lay among the ancient words and dusty tomes of the past, the sound of the waves lulling her into a restless slumber.

  ‘…I’ll ask my assistant to email you and we’ll take it from there,’ the location manager said, handing her a business card and walking back to the reception desk. Ella trotted behind him, wondering if she should say something about needing to talk to Josh.

  They reached the foyer, but the actor was no longer there.

  ‘I’d definitely like to shoot a few scenes here in the autumn,’ Billy said, grabbing his bag and walking toward the hotel entrance. ‘I have your details. I will get the office to email you about timings and we can discuss fees.’

  Ella held the door open for him and spotted Josh outside in the sunshine talking to someone in a smart cap. Their chauffeur, probably. The actor was leaning against a shiny black car, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his eyes squinting against the sun as he laughed at something the driver said. There were his dimples again. Her traitorous stomach gave an almighty flip.

  ‘Billy, would it be possible to have a quick word with…?’

  The location manager’s phone started ringing, and he held up his hand at her, stepping back into the hotel. Ella shut the door again and waited for Billy to get off the phone. This was ridiculous and embarrassing. Did she really have to say anything to Josh? Her boyfriend had hit him three years ago. If he did remember her, he probably still hated her. She walked back to the reception desk and ducked back into the office. Paloma was waiting for her with a frown on her face.

  ‘Did you speak to Mister de Silva?’ she whispered.

  ‘No. Why would I want to talk to him?’

  ‘You’re the hotel manager. You should go and greet him. That Billy man just told you they’ll be filming here in six months. Introduce yourself to the actor. Say hello.’

  Why was Paloma making such a big deal about speaking to Josh?

  When Ella had first moved to Londo
n, the new it-girl stepdaughter of a hotel mogul, the newspapers had delighted in linking her and Josh together even though she’d never met him. Then, by the time she’d started uni and discovered that he too attended, her friends had also tried to set them up. Even Zac, before they’d got together, had told her that Josh was her destiny. And now Paloma? Was Ella the only one who didn’t think she and Josh were a match made in heaven?

  Anyway, she was certain the whole ‘destiny’ thing didn’t apply anymore. Josh was a famous actor now, and she was just a girl with a complicated past and the mother of all hangovers. Why couldn’t this be happening on a day when she didn’t look like shit?

  Billy was now pacing the empty foyer, his hands making jabbing motions, and the odd expletive floated over to the front desk as his gesticulations got wilder and wilder. Ella was standing behind the front desk, shuffling papers and making herself look busy, when the hotel door opened and Josh stepped in. She ducked out of sight.

  ‘Everything all right?’ he asked Billy.

  The location manager, now red in the face, replaced his phone in his pocket.

  ‘No, far from it. That was our hotel. Your suite has flooded—a burst water pipe. They are fully booked and are trying to arrange an alternative accommodation, but the only other five-star hotel is miles away. Bloody peasant country!’

  ‘It’s not a problem. I’ll stay here. Looks nice enough.’

  Shit! If he stayed at her hotel, then she’d definitely have to talk to him. Her heart began to hammer against her ribcage.

  ‘No, no, you can share my hotel room,’ said Billy, heading for the exit. ‘This place isn’t good enough for you. Come on, I can’t wait to tell that so-called five-star hotel manager what I think of him.’

  ‘Our penthouse suite is available all week, Mister de Silva,’ Paloma called out from the check-in desk. Ella, still hiding, widened her eyes at her assistant who winked back at her.

  ‘Perfect,’ Josh said. ‘I’ll get my bags out of the car. Billy, I’m going to skip this afternoon’s meeting. I’ll see you back at the hotel in the morning. I need to chill for a bit. No need to look at me like that, I’m sure I’ll be well catered for here.’

  Perhaps Ella couldn’t fight fate after all. Her stomach performed another Olympian flip. Josh was staying in her hotel, and her hangover had just cranked up a notch. It would be a miracle if she made it to the end of the day without being sick.

  ‘I’M NOT TAKING him to his room!’ Ella hissed.

  Paloma uncrossed her arms. ‘Sí, sí, you are. Here.’ She handed her the key card for the penthouse suite. ‘His bags are up there already. He’s having a drink in the bar, and I told him the manager would take him up when his room was ready. Go!’

  What the hell was going on with Paloma? Why wasn’t she clambering to show the sexy actor to his room herself? Ella rummaged through her bag and took out her lip gloss and make-up mirror. Her pale face was tired and peaky. Popping a mint into her mouth, she sprayed some perfume at her neck in a feeble attempt to mask the smell of last night’s alcohol seeping out of her pores.

  ‘Good idea, Ella.’ Paloma smiled. ‘Look pretty.’

  ‘I’d settle for looking human.’

  • • • • •

  Josh was sitting up at the hotel bar with a bottle of beer and a small bowl of olives in front of him. The room was empty except for the barman, who kept glancing over at the actor. When he saw Ella, the barman jerked his head excitedly in Josh’s direction and grinned. She smiled and gestured for the barman to leave, much to his disappointment. There was no way she wanted an audience for this.

  ‘Josh?’

  Her voice came out as a quiet squeak. He hadn’t heard her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to remember her. After all, obscurity was why she’d moved away from London to the middle of nowhere in Spain, to be forgotten and start afresh. She took a step closer and called his name again. This time he looked up. She’d forgotten how beautiful his almond-shaped eyes were.

  ‘Sorry, err, Mister de Silva. I’m not sure if you remember me. We…’

  Jumping off the bar stool, he shook his head from side to side and gave her a slow smile.

  ‘Ella? Ella Fantz?’

  She screwed up her nose at the mention of her old name. Ella had changed her surname back to her father’s name, Santiago de los Rios, two years previously—it had been the only way to move on and leave the troubles of her time in London behind. Fantz was her stepfather’s surname. Not only had it made her a laughingstock, but it had also come fully loaded with all the associations of the Fantz hotel dynasty and the horrific things her stepbrother Sebastian had done. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at Josh properly. Here he was, a part of her old London life, in quiet Tarifa, infiltrating the privacy she’d created for herself.

  ‘Ella! Wow!’ He gave her a quick squeeze.

  Still holding onto the tops of her arms, he stepped back and took her in. His eyes travelled over her face and her plain blouse and skirt, her attempt at looking like a hotel manager. They settled on her eyes, holding her gaze for a second too long.

  ‘I thought you’d disappeared off the face of the earth,’ he exclaimed. ‘You look incredible. What are you doing out here?’

  His accent was still London-with-money, but the ends of his words were now sprinkled with a slight American lilt. He remembered her but clearly his eyesight was failing—she looked far from incredible. Taking another deep breath, she attempted to still the butterflies in her stomach which were competing with the rising nausea from her hangover. She could feel beads of sweat collecting on her brow.

  ‘This is my hotel,’ she said, shrugging. ‘I’ve just been having a meeting with your colleague, Billy. Apparently, he’s chosen it as the location for your next film. Bit weird, eh?’

  Josh raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Yeah. Huge coincidence.’

  His eyes hadn’t yet left hers and she could feel her neck going red. It must be all the alcohol she’d drunk the night before—a boozy flush. Why on earth would Josh be getting her flustered? OK, so he was attractive and looking at her in a really intense way, but she’d never reacted this way to him before. Actually, that was a lie. She’d kissed him once, an ill-advised lingering kiss at a fancydress party after the first time Zac had left her. She’d only kissed Josh to deter the advances of another guy, thinking she’d never see Zac again. But she did see Zac again; he’d come back for her and then hit Josh as they’d all stepped off a bus together. The entire thing seemed so ridiculous now; they’d been teenagers when they’d last met. She’d forgotten all about their kiss—until now. His pretty face was staring straight at hers, making her chest turn red and blotchy with the memory. She fanned herself with Josh’s key card.

  ‘Let’s go to your bedroom,’ she said. ‘Shit. Crap. I mean, I need to show you to…to your hotel room. Suite. Penthouse suite. Follow me.’

  He grinned. This was painful.

  • • • • •

  ‘And here’s the minibar. The TV is pretty easy to work; this is the remote control, and you can get CNN and Sky News and a few BBC channels, including some sports. This is the lovely roof garden that covers the entire top floor. It has lovely sea views, and over there you can just about make out the rooftops of Tarifa. It’s the nearest town to here; it’s lovely.’

  Lovely, lovely, lovely. Shut up, Ella! How many times are you going to say the word ‘lovely’?

  ‘There are tea and coffee facilities near the desk, and if you want room service you simply have to dial…’

  ‘Ella,’ Josh said, laying his hand on her arm. ‘I know how a hotel works. Why don’t you sit down? We haven’t had a chance to catch up yet.’

  She followed him outside to the large roof terrace and perched on the edge of a raffia armchair. She’d overseen the restoration of the hotel two years ago, and the penthouse had been her favourite room to style. It was decorated in white with sea-inspired touches such as driftwood sculptures by the bed a
nd blue-and-white striped cushions on the outdoor furniture. The view really was incredible. From this height, they could see Tarifa’s ubiquitous kite surfers and the white triangles of sailing boats on the horizon. It was hot for April, but a steady breeze was blowing, carrying with it herby smells from the kitchen gardens.

  ‘I’m so happy my hotel room flooded and I’m here instead. Billy’s driving me mad. He’s great at his job, but he can be a bit…possessive. It’s like Planet Pictures owns me or something. Well, I guess they do.’

  Josh stretched his arms, making his shirt travel up over his taut middle before falling back in place. Christ! Had he seen her looking?

  ‘I only came along with him to Spain because I needed a break. Instead, I’ve had to listen to him go on and on about “the industry,” and he never lets me out of his bloody sight. I feel like I’m being babysat by a pervy uncle or something.’

  Ella nibbled on her thumbnail and then, realising how ugly her fingernails were, sat on her hands.

  ‘I must sound like a spoiled brat,’ he continued. ‘Problem is, everyone thinks being famous is glamorous, but it’s not. I mainly sit around all day waiting. Waiting to be sent scripts, waiting to be offered a casting, waiting on set, waiting for make-up. It’s boring. I’m a go-getter; I’m not good at just hanging around.’ He moved his chair closer to Ella’s and sat back, gazing up at the blue sky. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, I obviously work out in the gym. A lot,’ he said, laughing, rolling up his shirt sleeves to reveal strong bronzed forearms. Ella dragged her eyes away and focused on the sea behind him. ‘I do the odd TV and magazine interview and get to go to great clubs with some of the world’s hottest women. Fame has its perks, but it’s not all that fulfilling. To be honest, it’s nice to get a chance to go back to basics sometimes, like sitting here in a simple hotel having a conversation with someone normal.’ He leant forward and tapped her on the knee. ‘Actually, I remember you being be a bit of a celeb yourself, what with Richard Fantz being your stepdad…’