The Rejected Brides Holiday Romance

Chapter Six – Peace and Tranquillity.

Chapter Six – Peace and Tranquillity.

The heat of the Spanish sun prickled at Kris’s skin as he walked off the private jet. Thankfully, there were no other aircraft on the private airfield on the outskirts of Barcelona. He pulled down his black cap, a switch from his trademark orange ‘Tigers’ one he always wore, letting the peak cover his brow. His scruff was thicker and longer than normal, and he hoped he would be able to slip by relatively unnoticed. Handing his passport to the awaiting control officer, he gathered his small holdall by the handles. He had packed light, only staying at the site for three days, and he had a longing to get back to basics. It would be just what he needed to get his head on straight. A car waited for him, and a big burley man sat in the front seat waiting to take him to the Montseny forest glamping site. Looking at the size of the man, he would definitely give any of his security team a run for their money. The guy was huge, with muscles upon muscles.

They soon sped away, out of the private airfield down the highway, before taking a turn to the left, and making their way down a narrowing dusty road. The tall spruce trees thickened as they continued their journey. With each passing mile, Kris felt a wave of peace settle around him. He could not deny this place was more than a little off the beaten track, and he doubted very much if anyone could find him here. The road turned to the left, at a large bend, before straightening out again, before the car slowed, and crossed the highway down a small pathway you would miss if you did not know it existed. The car slowed again, before coming to a small clearing in the thick trees, and parking in a makeshift parking bay, distinguished by long tree logs for the individual places to park. One bay for each of the three glamping sites. He was booked into glamping site one, and as his driver stepped out of the vehicle, he grabbed his bag, and opened the back door of his car. Taking a deep inhale of fresh air into his lungs, Kris aloud the smell of the forest sooth his fractured nerves. It had been a long few days, and even longer week, since the incident at the London Ritz hotel. He was ushered to a small log cabin, just down a narrow pathway, where four people stood waiting for him. If he thought his driver had been big, it was nothing compared to the man who stood before him. He was a giant of a man, long flowing dark brown hair, a longer beard. He had muscles upon muscles, upon even more muscles, that would make Arnold Schwarzenegger envious.

The giant man introduced himself to Kris, and the beautiful woman who stood beside him, that Kris believed was his wife.

Kris was not usually a man to feel intimidated by anyone, but he could not deny the gulp he made when this man made reference to him not trashing the new site. Not that he was going to anyway, but hell, if it had been him trashing the rooms and not Presley, he certainly would not have dared to do that after meeting the man.

Introduced to another couple, Kris thought about what the hell these guys ate around there. He was tall at 6ft, but the giant man was at least 5 inches taller, and the smaller man around three inches taller than him, again with muscles that any Hollywood actor would dream of having. His own six pack was apparently legendary and was often showcased on many a teenage girls' wall, in the various posters he had been forced to make, but he felt like a puny pipsqueak in comparison to these men.

Taking the warning seriously, he was ushered to the large tepee, which was luxury, with a capital ‘L’. He unpacked his things in the large custom-made drawers, and then lay on the super-king-sized bed, the soft mattress feeling like he was floating on a cloud. He was not sure how much this trip had cost him, but whatever it was, he would pay double. It was heavenly.

Kris looked out at the small campfire, the sound of the running stream beyond comforting and he took another breath, allowing the peace and tranquillity to wash over his soul. Making his way to the lounge chairs that sat beside the open fire, he sat down, wrapping one of the fleece throws over his legs, as the evening chill bit a little at his skin. It was not unpleasant, not after the heat of the sun during the afternoon. It was more refreshing than anything else. Kris lay his head back, listening to the sounds of nature that surrounded him, and for the first time since he was a little boy, he found tears streaming down his face. Not the fake kind conjured up for an emotional scene, but the real ones, brought on by a year of living in his own personal hell.

After taking a moment to release his pent-up emotions, Kris walked to the small outdoor cooking area, and gathered a steak from the fridge, before lighting up the grill and beginning his cookout. Taking some of the fresh salad, he began to chop it up, placing it in a small bowl, before turning his steak, which would make any American proud because it was so large. He decided to forgo the salad dressings that were available to him, then he trimmed the fat off the meat. He was filming in just one week’s time, three days after arriving in Hawaii, and needed to keep his body in top shape, especially as most of the time he would be in surfer shorts, out on a board in the ocean. The truth was, he would do the close-up shots, and a qualified surfer would be doing the actual surfing for him, such was the magic of the movies.

He glanced around the site, and saw some logs in the distance that he could use as weights. To do his punishing work out, he needed to complete, in order to keep his muscle tone at the standard the directors required, to avoid any of the photoshopping some actors needed when filming topless scenes. With his steak cooked medium rare, just as he liked it, he headed back to the lounge chair, and sat down, enjoying his food. Finished, he placed the dishes in the small sink, washing them immediately, not wanting to leave crumbs of food in the woods. Heaven knows what animals live hidden in the trees. He took a seat back on his chair and wished he had thought of bringing his guitar.

If he was honest, Kris loved to play. He originally dreamed of being a rock star when he first started out, but his ambition outweighed his musical talent, and it soon became clear that acting was his forte. He still loved to play, but he would never perform. He wondered if that is why he had gotten caught up with so many musicians, why most of his ex-girlfriends or people he dated were in the music industry. The lour of a long-forgotten passion pulling him in? Yes, he had engaged in brief encounters with actors he met on set, over the years, but most of the time it was his character who had fallen in love with the actress’ character, and when reality set in, it was not Kris in love with whom ever the actress was, and vice versa, so they fizzled out quite quickly.

Maybe he was just doomed in the love department, despite being sought after by millions of women the world over. Ten years in the ‘business’ had left him jaded, and more determined than ever to make sure he never got involved with a starlet again.

Kris sighed, what he wouldn’t give for a normal girl right now. Someone who would see him for himself and not the celebrity. Or, what he could bring to their career, and certainly not an abusive freak, who would flip out and become violent at the drop of a hat. The night wore on, as Kris sat, completely sober, for the first time in months, contemplating his life and choices. As the moon peaked from behind the small splattering of clouds in the night sky, he let out a large yawn. Jetlag finally caught up with him, and made his way into the large tepee, stripping down to his boxers and climbed into the comfortable bed, and drifted off to sleep, his cares and worries leaving him in this perfect sanctuary.

The solitude of his hideaway made the three days Kris stayed in Spain feel more like a week, and he was refreshed and energised. A renewed sense of who he was as a person, and who he wanted to be resonated deep in his soul. He had done a lot of self-appraisals over his time at the glamping site, and for all he knew, he was not responsible for Presley’s actions and her obvious issues with her outbursts of fury, he did have to shoulder some of the blame. If he was truthful with himself, he had never really committed to the relationship. It was nice at first, but there was not really the spark you hear people talk about, he had trapped himself in something that was just not working, and that was on him, not her.

As wonderful as this trip had been, it was now time to head back to the real world, face the music, and the gutter press. Saying his goodbyes to his hosts, with a promise to promote the site in a few weeks, given he had not enjoyed himself so much in forever, and a mental note to visit this amazing place once more, when things got too heavy in his life. Kris headed back to the private airport, jumping on the private jet that would take him to Amsterdam, where he had been booked first class on a flight to Texas, and from there, onwards to Hawaii. It was a long-assed trip ahead of him, but still it was his job. He planned to spend the trip going over his lines and hoped that the general public would leave him to his task, once the frenzy of realisation he was on their flight passed.

As he arrived at the airstrip he rang Gregg, before even checking the newspapers or social media accounts.

“Kris my man, how the hell are you?” Gregg’s usual greeting reached his ears.

“I am good man, refreshed, and ready to face the world.” Kris genuinely smiled.

“Great, well, I have good and bad news,” Gregg said.

Kris groaned, it was too much to hope that there was no bad news.

“The crew in Hawaii have refused to let you have onsite living quarters, due to the dust up at the Ritz. However, the good news is that I have you booked into a beautiful hotel on the beach in Honolulu. You have the top floor, bar one suite which is booked out for a honeymoon for the first three weeks of your stay, but after that it is all yours. I know it is not ideal being with the general public, but they have assured me that they will have security measures in place.” Gregg told him enthusiastically.

Kris let out a small groan. Living in a hotel for three months, with very little privacy was not ideal. However, it was better than the production company sacking his ass because of the incidents with Presley, so he would take it.

“The other bad news,” Gregg said.

“Wait, there is more…go on…hit me.” Kris sighed.

“ A certain pop starlet is making all sorts of vague claims in the media about you. We need to stomp that s**t out now, so I have had your lawyers send out a cease-and-desist letter, or you will sue her for defamation. It should blow over soon, but you know what these so called journos are like, they are digging into everything, so be prepared for a bumpy ride.” Gregg told him.

Of course, Presley would be making her mouth go, and twisting the facts. The woman loved the drama, it was really nothing he didn’t expect. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Kris bordered the plane, and said goodbye not only to Barcelona and the Montseny forest, but also, to his Zen-like state.