‘I’m so glad I’m here,’ she tells me. ‘I’ve got all my work stuff with me – including my favourite client. I’d never leave you to deal with this alone.’
‘Well, thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she replies. ‘For this, and the other thing.’
‘The other thing?’ I check.
‘For setting you up with a hottie like Jake,’ she replies. ‘You would have bottled it.’
‘Any normal person would have bottled it,’ I say.
‘Maybe,’ she replies. ‘As I said, you’re welcome.’
I smile. There really is no way I would have spoken to Jake again if it weren’t for her. I would have gone into hiding until my viral fame died down. I probably would have gone to my parents’ house – incidentally, I have called them, to say JJ is doing some weird marketing and not to believe anything they see online. They laughed. They know JJ well.
Instead, I’m using it to my advantage – allegedly. So far, all it’s got me is the chance to perv over a cowboy. Not that I’m complaining.
20
The lodge kitchen is too quiet for how many people are staying here – especially when one of those people is JJ, although I don’t suppose she’s had a chance to meet the locals yet.
It is late evening, and pretty much everyone has gone to bed. I, being the coward that I am, have come down to get myself a drink while Jake is in our bathroom. Well, he said he would sleep on the floor, on the fur rug, with a pillow and a blanket, and I’m too much of a baby to be in the room while he gets into his makeshift bed. I guess, I don’t know, maybe I’m worried it will feel awkward, or that I’ll feel bad and insist he gets in bed with me, but me being me, I’ll make it weird. Best I leave him to make himself comfortable. That way, when I head back up with my glass of water, I’ll be able to tell if he’s comfortable, if I do need to offer him a space in the bed, because as weird as it would be, I don’t want him messing his back up.
So I head downstairs in my socks, downing the water from my glass so it definitely looks like it needs refilling, only to realise there’s someone in the kitchen.
Cordelia is standing at the far end of the kitchen island, her laptop open in front of her, her phone pressed to her ear. She’s pacing a little, shifting on the spot uncomfortably.
I slow my speed without really thinking about it, hovering just out of sight by the doorway.
‘I just need confirmation,’ Cordelia says quietly, the stress in her voice making her sound like a different person. ‘Yes, I understand timelines, but every time I call you from the UK, there’s the time difference, and it was meant to be finalised weeks ago. I can’t… no, I won’t… get married… with…’
She turns slightly, her back to me now, and lowers her voice even further.
‘I don’t care how long it usually takes. I was told it would be done,’ she continues. ‘I’ll check again in the morning but, please, do what you can.’
She ends the call, taps her phone a few times, then snaps the laptop shut with a decisive clack that echoes through the kitchen. As she turns around, I decide to make myself known.
‘Still up too?’ I say lightly.
Cordelia jumps out of her skin.
‘Oh, Whitney, hi, yes, work stuff to wrap up,’ she says. ‘Have you been there long?’
‘I popped down for some water,’ I say, glad to have an empty glass to hold up.
‘Wedding plans too,’ she adds. ‘There’s always so much to sort out.’
‘Oh, I bet,’ I reply, not that I know a thing about that – maybe I need to learn, for my fake engagement. Just enough to make it seem like I am actually planning to get married.
She smiles, but something about her eyes feels distant now, like she’s already halfway somewhere else.
Before I can ask anything – and before I can decide whether I should ask anything – Andy appears, hair damp from the shower.
‘I thought you said you were on your way?’ he says to Cordelia, wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her on the cheek. ‘Hi, Whit.’
There I am – the afterthought.
‘Just finishing up with something,’ she says, pushing her laptop further away, almost defensively, moving it out of Andy’s reach. ‘And Whit came for water.’