The Wedding Date Page 7

  The truth? He is only here for the money, and I am only here, walking the dog and swallowing too many calories (I have a maid of honour dress to fit into, and sewing in a strip down the side would be so uncool), because I am desperate.

  But we still don’t need to spell things out and be too honest, do we? I mean, I’m not going to be completely honest and start saying that although he’s gorgeous, his ego is probably bigger than my spare room. That he is no doubt shallow and big-headed and thinks every girl will fall at his feet, that we are totally unsuited in every single way. Am I?

  ‘I’m not sure we need total honesty.’ After all this whole thing is dishonest, and so is business. I sell holidays for a living, and let’s face it, there is a tiny bit of stretching of the truth now and again. What you see isn’t always what you get. Infinity pool and tin bath on the edge of a cliff aren’t the same in everybody’s eyes.

  ‘I think we do need the whole truth.’ He grins. ‘How many times do you get a relationship where you can be totally honest? No white lies.’

  The man has a point. ‘O-kay.’ I can take this, I am strong.

  ‘Well, like I said, at first I told her to get lost.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘My sister can be bossy, and I don’t like being told what to do.’ His eyes glint.

  Bugger. He’s going to hate ‘the rules’, if he ever gives me chance to come up with some.

  ‘But though I hate to admit it, she is right, it is the perfect distraction.’

  ‘The perfect distraction from what?’ I can’t help myself, I mean, any normal person would want to know, wouldn’t they?

  ‘Life.’ There’s a wry quirk to his mouth, and he moves on before I can push it. ‘And then of course, I saw you.’

  ‘Saw me?’ This was sounding better.

  ‘Stalking me.’

  ‘Ahh.’ Worse.

  ‘In the restaurant, and Amy seemed to know you, so I grilled her. I’m intrigued.’

  Intrigued isn’t quite ‘knocked off my feet by your presence’, but it’s a start I suppose.

  ‘And you sealed the deal out there with Tank.’ His eyes are all lit up and shiny. Which could be his brilliant acting skills, a sip of too hot coffee, or just the fluorescent lights. ‘I couldn’t sleep with a girl who doesn’t love animals, dogs in particular. That’s why I thought this would be a great place to meet.’

  ‘Sleep?’ I’ve gone all croaky. I don’t love Tank, but we can skip that for now.

  ‘Sleep. I presume you don’t intend staying awake for a whole week so you can keep an eye on me?’

  ‘Well no, but…’

  ‘And we will be sharing a room?’

  ‘Well, yes, but … just sleep, as in sleep?’

  ‘As in sleep. Unless you’re offering?’ I don’t know whether he’s just teasing, or he’s the one that is sex-starved.

  ‘I most certainly am not!’ I definitely need rules. ‘Sleep, bed, asleep, fine.’

  ‘Fine.’ He grins. ‘You were great with Tank, I love a girl with guts.’

  ‘I don’t need loving.’ It’s killed me to say it, when he’s looking all cute and nice, but it’s a fact. He’s not a date. I will keep reminding myself of that, before things get complicated. That’s rule number one.

  ‘Everybody needs loving, Sammy.’

  ‘I need rules, and don’t call me Sammy or I’ll call you snakey Jakey in public.’ He’s grinning. That might not quite work over the wedding breakfast though. Unless it’s said in a lip-licking way, which is frankly not how I should be thinking.

  ‘I have er, rules…’ Best to get it over with now, if we’re going to be totally honest.

  ‘Rules?’

  ‘No, er, loving.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Or sex.’

  ‘Is this with you, or in general?’

  ‘Ever!’

  His eyebrow goes higher.

  ‘Not ever, ever. Just while we’re at the wedding. You can’t go off and shag the other guests. If Liam hadn’t gone off waving his willy in the wind, then … don’t you dare laugh!’ I glare, and he holds a hand up in surrender.

  ‘No laughing going on here. Promise.’ He’s gone all serious again. ‘But I don’t think it’s waving it in the wind that was the problem.’

  He has a point. But if the one-eyed trouser snake had stayed in the cheating bugger’s trousers, then I wouldn’t have to be here, doing this. Splitting up is one thing, splitting up because your boyfriend has put his other girlfriend up the duff is another. ‘No sex in general.’ I know I’m muttering, and stabbing marshmallows like I’d like to stab a certain person’s dangly bits. ‘You’re supposed to be my boyfriend. My adoring boyfriend.’

  ‘Smitten?’

  ‘Totally. Yes, that’s rule number two. How could you not be?’ I’m going to have to write these down before I forget them.

  ‘How could I not be?’ I can hear the smile in his voice, and when I look up from my hunt-the-marshmallow search, he’s grinning.

  ‘Exactly. Stop laughing at me.’

  ‘That’s honestly a rule? The smitten bit? You just added that one.’ He is grinning in a way that suggests he might not be very good at sticking to rules. ‘How about we forget rules? We just need to get to know each other a bit.’

  I knew he wasn’t the type to stick to rules. ‘The no sex rule is non-negotiable.’ But if I don’t see this through, then I’ve had it. This is make or break. I’m running out of time.

  ‘Shame, but who says I want sex anyway?’

  I decide to ignore that bit. It was him that mentioned the loving bit, I just embellished. I mean that’s how it goes, isn’t? Love, sex, marriage? ‘So, you will do it?’

  ‘Look, Sam.’ His smile looks a bit sad. ‘I’m not being flip here, but I really get how you feel. I know what it’s like to be betrayed, I know how shitty it is.’ He’s looking past my right ear, and there’s a hint of that harshness back in his voice but this time it’s tinged with something else. Hurt. His gaze drifts back to my face, and he looks straight into my soul. ‘What you’re doing is incredibly brave.’ The smile lifts, and his tone softens. ‘Far braver than tackling Tank. And I love that you’re such a good friend to this Jess.’

  I smile back. I can’t help it. I want to hug him.

  ‘I want to help, I want us to go up to Scotland and show this Liam just what a stupid twat he is.’ He leans forward, earnestly, like we are co-conspirators. ‘I want us to have a wild time.’ He’s gone all twinkly again. ‘We are going to have so much fun. I am definitely up for it.’

  ‘A whole week, in Scotland, with me and my batty friends and family?’ I need to be sure. ‘Horse-riding and fishing and stuff like that.’ He’s looking amused. ‘On a big estate, miles from anywhere.’ He’s still not said no. ‘With no sex.’

  ‘You’re really selling this.’ He’s chuckling. ‘I can’t wait.’

  ‘And everybody does have to believe you’re my real boyfriend.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘It’s top secret, the only people who know are Sarah and your sister, of course.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘And my hairdresser, and everybody who was in the salon.’

  ‘But it is top secret?’

  ‘Nobody at the wedding must suspect. We’ll have to get to know each other, practise.’

  ‘Practise?’ Jake raises his eyebrow. He really has to stop that, it makes me wriggle. And when I wriggle I realise my knickers have dried into something more like cardboard than cotton. Which is not a good sensation.

  I ignore his naughtiness. ‘You need to be…’ I pause. I had originally had in mind just a boyfriend, any kind of boyfriend. Okay, I hadn’t really thought about it in detail. But now I am thinking about it I realise that Jake isn’t like just any kind of boyfriend. Jake is posh, Jake is good-looking, Jake has endless possibilities that I need to have a think about. Jake is an actor. ‘You need to be the type of boyfriend who would drive a Ferrari, and adore me, and watch chick flicks on a Friday ni
ght, and…’ I really do need to think about this.

  ‘Whatever your heart desires.’ I’m pretty sure that warm huskiness is purely a demonstration of how good an actor he is, and nothing more.

  ‘Pizza and a bottle of wine normally.’

  He laughs, a deep throaty laugh. ‘A girl after my own heart.’ Oh heavens, any more of this and I will be booking him for a lifetime, not a week. ‘Except I’d rather have the footie than a chick flick, but hey, I can pretend.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘How about Thursday then, for the first getting to know you session? I can tell you about my rules then, as well.’ He winks, it’s a bad habit.

  ‘Your rules? You can’t have rules!’ I haven’t even got rules yet, and I’m the one who’s supposed to be in control here. It is part of my plan, to be in control of my own life.

  ‘Just watch me.’ He’s chuckling as he stands up and shoves his hands in his pockets. ‘How about Thursday then? You can come and watch the play I’m in, then we can go out after?’

  ‘Thursday.’ Watching him act seems like a very good idea, it will prove just how well he will be able to pull this off. ‘How about that new pizza place?’ Much as I like the way he’s being all assertive, I feel I need to be more that way myself. I’m the one that is supposed to be running this show. And I want pizza. And I’m a bit concerned about his rules.

  ‘If you like, not quite sure that’s where Ferrari man would take you though.’

  ‘You can start off being Mini man and we’ll work up.’

  He laughs again. I could get used to listening to that laugh, it makes me feel happy inside. ‘Nothing Mini about me.’

  ‘But you are an actor, aren’t you?’ I try and look sweet and innocent. ‘I’m sure you could pull it off.’

  He just shakes his head.

  ‘Jake?’ He stops, raises an eyebrow. ‘Why have you said you’ll do this?’ I’ve got a feeling this distraction must be something important, or why would Amy mention it?

  ‘Money? You know, penniless actor and all that.’

  Even I can tell that’s not the whole truth, and we did say this was going to be an honest relationship. ‘And?’

  ‘And…’ He studies the crumbs on my plate for a moment, then lifts his gaze back up to mine. ‘Like I said before, I know what you’re going through, and what this means to you. Really.’ We stare at each other, for a long moment, and I believe him. He gets it. And I really want to know why. Except it would seem really rude to ask him, and I take it from his angry reaction that whatever happens still smarts, and is off bounds.

  ‘And I’ve got some time off, before I start filming.’

  As a way of diverting me from quizzing him, it’s brilliant. I go after it like a terrier that’s seen a rat. ‘You’re going to be in a film?’

  ‘I am, I’ll tell you about it over the pizza.’ He shrugs. ‘Sam.’ I hate it when people just say your name, then pause. It nearly always means they’re going to follow it up with something you don’t want to hear. ‘This is just business though, okay?’

  I nod. A part of me wishes it wasn’t. He’s funny, he’s cute, and I can already see that he’s not just sexy but he’s a nice guy. A really nice guy.

  ‘Definitely.’ I do not need a man in my life right now, not even a really nice one. I need to rediscover the real, pre-Liam me.

  ‘I’m not looking for any kind of…’

  ‘Me neither.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Which reminds me, we need to talk about, er, money.’

  ‘We do.’ He fishes in his pocket and drops a ticket on the table. ‘For the play. That one’s on the house though – I’ll warn you now, it’s not exactly a masterpiece. Very modern.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure—’

  ‘No, really. How about thrashing the money details out on Thursday?’ There’s a glimmer of his cheeky side, then he sobers again as he pushes his chair under the table. ‘Sam, if I was looking though…’ He half-smiles. ‘I couldn’t think of anybody I’d rather date than you.’

  Which leaves me feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. It’s the kind of feeling that I really wish I could bottle, and whisk out on the rubbish days.

  Chapter 8

  Things I need to do this week:

  1. Work out how to avoid ‘supper’ with Mum and Dad.

  2. Work out how to raise enough money to pay Jake (once we have agreed an amount, that is. I have to admit I hadn’t really thought this aspect through).

  3. Find out what Jake needs distracting from.

  4. Find out more about the type of acting Jake really wants to do (he was just about to tell me when we were out walking, and I’d really like to know).

  5. Make a list of rules, and things we need to know about each other. (Like which side of the bed I sleep on, because no way am I going to let Liam think we haven’t done it while he’s been busy sowing his seed like he was planning on feeding a third world country. Oh no, Liam is to see me in a new light, as a tousle-haired irresistible sex goddess – the hair bit I’ve mastered, not sure about the rest yet).

  It is already Thursday and this has been a good week in that I’ve hardly thought about the ‘huge’ girlfriend or the banker-wanker at all, because I now have a boyfriend. But, all my spare time has been devoted to working out what I need to know about him, and worrying about the six-hundred-and-seventy-eight ways it can all go wrong when we get to Scotland.

  I’ve also been trying to work out just how I can afford to buy a wedding present, clothes suitable for a week of shooting, fishing and drinking whisky in Scotland, and pay for my employee, because after meeting up with him at Waggytails Wescue, I went home and Googled ‘equity rates’ and ‘reasonable expenses’. If I was you, I wouldn’t.

  If I’d just wanted him to do a TV trailer (which now I come to think of it, is a possibility. Does he really have to be there? Could I not just share videos of the two of us happily loved-up?) then it would have been a snip compared to a live performance, and by the time I’d added on travelling expenses, clothing allowance and God knows what, I’ve run out of spreadsheet (no spreadsheet should cover more than a sheet of A4 in a font size I can read without holding it up to my nose).

  Looking up escort rates with Sarah had just got me into an area of the world wide web that I really didn’t want to know about. I didn’t think it was possible to physically do some of the extras, let alone be able to request them. But he’s an actor, isn’t he? Not an escort. Which is infinitely better. But not cheaper.

  My quandary is about to be solved though, as it is Thursday and I am about to go on my second date with him!

  I feel sick. I have made a dreadful mistake. I should leave a note for Jake saying there has been a change of plan, and totally abandon the whole fake-date idea, because I have just sat through the most awful play ever. And I have been to a lot of awful plays; mainly the ones my mother has been in, before reassuring her that she was wonderful.

  I am not sure I will be able to reassure Jake about this play. He was right, it was not a masterpiece, it was not even a minor triumph. It was totally weird. Hamlet meets Alien, with a lot of street dancing and graffiti.

  I am confused.

  I could see that Jake had thrown himself into it, but he did not convince me that this type of space and time distortion is either a good thing, or possible.

  There were only a handful of people in the theatre when I arrived, and fewer when I left.

  ‘Ready for that pizza then? I’m starving.’ Jake no longer looks like the love child of a Martian and the Prince of Denmark, he looks like Jake, but with slightly more ruffled hair than normal, and a smear of green paint on his cheek.

  I reach out to rub the paint off, and he catches my hand and studies me.

  ‘Don’t say you’ve changed your mind.’

  ‘I wasn’t go—’ I was actually. It isn’t that I don’t want to share a pizza with the dishiest man I’ve seen in a long time, but I have got seriously cold feet. Ice blocks. If this is the type of acting he
does, we are never going to pull this off. Plus, he is hot enough to fancy and possibly fall for, but this is only business. He did check on that several times the other day, as though he really wanted to be sure that I wasn’t trying to sneak under his radar and date him on false pretences.

  ‘Yes, you were.’ He glances round to check nobody was listening. ‘Look, I know it was crap. I did it as a favour for this guy I was at college with, promised it ages and ages ago so I really couldn’t get out of it. But Sam, I don’t exactly need to act my guts out to make this work, do I? I just need to pretend I want to spend time with you and take you to bed.’ He pauses. ‘It’ll be the easiest role I’ve ever played.’ We stand for a long moment in eye to eye conflict, except it’s a nice conflict, more a silent negotiation.

  ‘You are such a smooth talker.’ I have to say something to break the spell, and remind myself that this is Jake acting. It’s not real.

  ‘I do need the money, don’t I, doll?’ He winks.

  All I can do is shake my head. ‘Honestly, I’m not surprised Amy calls you names, and who says doll?’ I don’t give him time to answer, because I can tell it will be something cheeky. ‘I suppose if I have to do this—’

  ‘And you do.’

  I smile. ‘You’re as good a bet as anybody, even if you do make a crap Shakespearian alien.’

  ‘You leave my alien alone. He has feelings.’

  ‘But you’ll have to smarten up a bit.’

  ‘Cheeky sod.’ He smiles back. We’re good.

  ‘And you mustn’t do that creepy alien voice in front of my parents, or in the middle of the service.’ I shudder, and it isn’t acting. ‘That was seriously creepy.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘What do you mean good?’

  ‘It means I got under your skin. Come on, food time.’ He angles his elbow out, inviting me to slip my hand in, and I hesitate. Suddenly feeling a bit, well, shy. Awkward. ‘We might as well start practising straight away, I thought you’d told everybody we’d been dating for ages?’