Mistletoe and the Movie Star

Excerpt from Mistletoe and the Movie Star

He wanted her to smile again so he jumped to attention and gave the Boy Scout salute. There. A solemn promise from a Boy Scout. 

She did smile, sending a tremor up his spine and making his breathing stall. Hell he could bask in her smile for eternity, well, if his jaded disposition believed in such a long 

sell-by-date. 

Your salute only counts if you were a real Boy Scout, she said. 

How about if I played the uncle of one in a movie?

His words earned him another smile. 

Oh, where will we eat? she called after him. I don't know what to wear?

I’ve found a great place. Promise me you’ll come, he said, moving up the stairs toward the street. 

I will, but remember what I said about after dinner.

Well, seeing as though we're not indulging in any sexual activities tonight, maybe you should bring Scrabble or a pack of cards.

He left her grinning and bounded up the stairs and into the busy street, ablaze with Christmas lights shining from every shop window. 

Most women fell for his looks, and his status as an Oscar winner helped raise the ante. For the woman with no name it conspired against him, but her beautiful eyes said she found him funny, and it wouldn't be the first time he'd laughed a woman into his bed.

Copyright

Mistletoe and the Movie Star

Copyright © 2023 Alice J. Miller

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First eBook Edition November 2023

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

Look for Alice’s other book:The Price to be Paid

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Dedication

My grateful thanks to Kim for all her hard work keeping me on track, and to John for getting me back to the writing quicker by being my chauffeur extraordinaire and his houseguest when required. Also thank you to the rest of my family and friends who always support and encourage me. I’ve have some personal issues to deal with whilst writing this book and it’s reinforced what I’ve always known. That when life throws you a curve, my faith and my family are the best at keeping my wheels on the rails and projecting me safely forward.  

CHAPTER 1

Scott Bailey raced through the entrance of the renown Superstore, Brenchley & Sparks, and almost collided with a large ornate Christmas tree as he swung a sharp left. His first frantic glances showed a busy shop filled with people milling around, while overhead carols played softly to help ease the payment from pockets into tills. Carols were a tad early for his liking, but that wasn’t his major concern right now. To his right and left the store opened up into other large areas suitably adorned with Christmas decorations crammed into every available space, but the loud cries of the women chasing him meant he hadn’t time to enjoy the decorations or reach either room without being seen. 

Slightly ahead three mannequins displaying the latest fashion in ski clothing stood in a small semi-circle. He headed straight for them and threw himself down on the hard tiled floor, while around him the excited buzz of women’s voices filled the air. Now his idea to ditch his bodyguards and pretend to be Mr Average and shop on his own didn’t seem such a great idea. 

The voices grew louder and he hugged the side of the display unit. He began crawling on his hands and knees across the floor, moving away from the loud yells calling his name, until a shapely leg wearing a dark blue shoe with a sharp stiletto heel stepped on one hand. 

Ouch. He almost yelled aloud but remembered in time to keep his voice low.

What on Earth... a voice gasped and moved off his fingers. 

I’m obviously in hiding, he said, craning his neck to see his attacker. Nothing broken, I don’t think, he added, clenching his fist, aware of a cut showing the first signs of blood on his index finger.

Well, I’m glad about that, a soft voice said, but what exactly are you doing on the floor?

I told you, I’m hiding. Too late he realised his tone sounded mockingly incredulous for not understanding his predicament, but for all he knew she could be one of the hoards chasing him. 

Hiding? she repeated, in an equally incredulous tone. From what? Have aliens finally landed? Are we expecting an earthquake? Oh. She took a step back. You’re a thief hiding from security. 

Hell no, he said, still trying to see the face matching the quaint English voice. The women, he said, waving an arm in a vague upward direction. I’m hiding from them.

Why, what did you do? 

The soft tone had gone, leaving more than a hint of wary suspicion. 

I didn’t do anything. I’ve come here to shop but they keep chasing me.

Who keeps chasing you?

The women. Did he miss her white stick? Are you blind?

No need to get sarcastic, she said, clearly not impressed. It’s not as if it’s normal to meet someone crawling on all fours in a busy store in the middle of the Christmas rush.

No, I’m not being sarcastic. I really am trying not to be seen by the women.

It’s a busy place, and yes there are women shoppers, but no more than usual for the time of year. Are you feeling okay? Can I get help for you?

I’m fine, thanks, although I can’t say the same for my finger. He watched a drop of blood slowly ooze from the cut and drip onto the floor. Would the fans following him go as far as to scoop it up? Weird, but he’d had bizarre experiences with the Bailey Babes, as they called themselves. You don’t happen to have something on you I can mop up this blood with, do you?

I have a tissue?

A tissue?

A small handy packet of paper wipes landed beside him and he grabbed one and wrapped it around his cut, then wiped the floor with another. 

Thank you, he said, holding the packet over his head for her to retrieve. Their fingers touched as she took it. 

Look, she said, apprehension in her voice. I have to get back to work but I’m reluctant to leave you like this. Can I fetch someone to assist you?

Sure, a couple of burly men would be helpful.

Burly men I can do. Are you going to stay here while I call security?

Yeah, sure, unless they get closer and then I’ll have to move.

Unless who gets closer?

The women. Gee whiz, were all English women this dim?

Okay.

Her tone said she humoured him. Wait, you said no more women than usual. They must have moved into one of the other large areas to search. 

Yes, I did. It’ll be people shopping during their lunch break for Christmas presents, the way I am. 

So there isn’t a gaggle of women hanging around.

No, not especially. She hesitated. Is that good or bad?

It’s great, he said with a sigh. So I’m safe to stand up?

Um, I guess so. Do you still want me to call security and do you need help standing?

It depends on the first question and no for the second.

It depends on what exactly?

On whether or not they return.

Who is returning and from where?

It struck him she had no idea who she stood talking to. No wonder she sounded confused.  

From wherever they’ve gone, he said, rising slowly and peeking over a display of brightly coloured salopettes. A quick glance showed people shopping and no noisy gang of excited women. He turned to see his attacker. 

Slim and attractive, she stood about five foot eight in shoes with a heel he could vouch for. Her blonde hair hung loose to her shoulders and her soft, kissable lips parted in a smile that reached her eyes. Blue, like the Leadwort growing in his garden back in Clearwater, Tampa. Heaven opened its doors and beckoned. 

Hi, I'm...

I’m aware of who you are, she said, sucking in a breath. I caught your sci-fi film last week and it deserved every award.

Thanks. It's easy saving the world with stunt men and a film crew behind you. Thank you for your help just now.

She blinked, surprise still written on her face. As I recall I trod on your hand and cut your finger, so how exactly did I help?

Well, you could have trodden on my head instead and gouged out an eye or something equally vital. 

She grimaced at the thought and then her mouth slowly spread in a grin and a small chuckle escaped her lips. Lips, he noticed, wore a light touch of lipstick and he’d been totally correct about. They were positively kissable. Her clear, smooth skin showed little makeup while a subtle perfume filled his senses. Fruit or flowers. He couldn't decide, but it hit the spot. His glance immediately shot to her hands. No sign of any rings. 

So you were hiding from your fans?

Not so dim after all. Yeah, they chased me in here. Luckily this is where I wanted to shop. I almost made it before my name got yelled, and then I must have broken a record for running through an open door. 

Don’t you have a personal shopper to do your bidding for you?

Usually, but today I thought I would behave like every normal person does.

Mmn. She nodded and her smile returned, strangely lifting his heart. I see lots of  normal people on a daily basis. Not sure many crawl on all fours to do their shopping though. But, she added, her eyes holding a tease. I guess normal isn’t something a superstar is familiar with.

He couldn’t help grinning back. Even superstars have to buy Christmas presents. My assistant, Lynn, told me not to go out on my own, but I knew better.

Doesn’t every man, she murmured. "Well, it’s been nice meeting