‘And yet,’ JJ says cheerfully, ‘here we are.’
Jake clears his throat.
‘I should mention… I’ve got another meeting with Arty tomorrow.’
JJ’s head snaps up.
‘That’s perfect.’
‘It is?’ he asks.
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Whit can go with you – ever the dutiful fiancée. So when Arty asks who she is, you say…?’
‘This is my future wife,’ Jake says slowly.
The words land harder than I expect.
‘See? You’re naturals,’ JJ assures us.
We fly through the rest of the meeting, JJ telling us her ideas – and thankfully her intimacy lessons are over, because I’ve seen how that girl gets intimate, and I’m not doing that here.
By the time we leave JJ’s office, I feel like I’ve crawled out of a tornado.
We step out onto the pavement, London buzzing around us obliviously. You can always count on the city to make your big problems feel small and insignificant.
Jake exhales.
‘She’s intense,’ he says. ‘Fun though.’
‘Yeah, I have a few other choice words,’ I joke. ‘She does know what she’s doing though.’
We walk in silence for a few steps.
‘Erm, Jake,’ I say suddenly. ‘Do you want to come to my flat with me?’
He looks surprised.
‘Do I…?’
Time to make that not seem weird.
‘So you can… you know. See it,’ I reply. ‘You would have seen it, if this were all real. In case it comes up. For realism.’
‘Yeah. Okay,’ he replies.
I’m being such a dork all of a sudden – well, not all of a sudden, I did fall into a fountain – but I’m not usually so tongue-tied around random men.
With Jake it should be easy because with Jake everything is pretend. We’re faking it – surely that’s easier, if I can be whatever I want to be?
Then why am I so nervous?
17
By the time we’re nearing the flat it is officially dinner time and I’m starving. Do I ask Jake if he wants to stay for dinner? That’s what a normal couple would do, right? Then again, I probably don’t have anything in – I could ask him if he wants a takeaway? I know, not exactly wife material, but I’m not exactly his wife, so that checks out.
Jake walks beside me with the easy confidence of someone who has done this before – of course he most certainly hasn’t, because who has? I think it’s just his way, his laid-back approach. I can’t imagine anything that could stress him out; he’s so easy-going, so cool in a crisis. I’m tempted to say it’s annoying, but I’m probably just jealous, because I overthink every damn thing – including how much I overthink things.
He reaches for the door before I do, catching my eye.