I’m so slow.
But it’s fine because I wasn’t inviting him in for anything other than coffee anyway. Obviously he doesn’t think I’m attractive at all. I mean he sleeps with anything with a pulse. But not me apparently. Not that I would have, but anyway, it doesn’t matter. He didn’t fancy me when we were younger, so why should it be any different now.
‘Because I’m not fourteen anymore. And I’m a little prettier than I used to be back then,’ shouts my inner self.
I suddenly feel like stamping my teenage foot and asking him just what’s wrong with me that I’m not good enough for him now, and why I wasn’t back then.
But I won’t obviously, because that would be way too weird and majorly embarrassing.
“Well, it was really great seeing you again. Surreal, but great.”
Did I just say surreal? Oh God.
He smiles at me, humour clear in his eyes. “Can I have your number? I don’t want to lose contact again.”
“Yes, of course!” My voice has gone way squeaky, totally giving me away. Traitor voice. And my heart is pounding at my ribs, threatening a break very soon.
Jake pulls his phone out of his pocket and I recite my phone number to him, watching as he types it in.
Adele starts to sing in my bag. As I look down, he lifts his phone, gesturing. “And now you have mine.”
I have Jake’s number!
I’m tapping out a happy number inside my head myself right now.
He suddenly leans close to me, lifting his hand, tucking my hair behind my ear, fingers tipping my jaw, he kisses my cheek.
I close my eyes, absorbing the feel and smell of him. Cigarettes, beer and aftershave.
“Seeing you again was way better than I ever thought it could be,” he murmurs.
What?
By the time my eyes are open, he’s already retreating down the path, heading to his car.
He stops near the bottom and turns back as if remembering something. “Oh, Tru, when I said earlier that you looked great, what I actually should have said was that you look beautiful,” he smiles. “I’ll call you soon.”
And then he’s back in his car, pulling away.
I let myself in my flat and fall back against the door, heart still pounding up a storm.
Then the very next thing I do is get my phone out and save Jake’s number to my contacts.
Chapter Seven
“What did you do to that boy last night?”
Vicky is already advancing through the office toward me and I haven’t even sat down yet.
“Because whatever it was, just keep on doing it please.” She grins.
“Eh?”
I’m still trying to recover from last night. It took me hours to get to sleep after my night with Jake, so I overslept. This morning was a rush and the interrogation from Simone prevented me from even grabbing a coffee. I’m also still coming down off my Jake cloud and dealing with the probability of never seeing him again.
I’ll call you soon.
He won’t call. Why would he? And even though I have his number, I’m not calling him. Well not yet anyway.
“I just got off the phone with him.”
“Who?”
“Jake Wethers!” She screams like a teenager. Not like the owner of the successful magazine.
“Jake?” I’m confused. “Why’s he calling you? No offence,” I add when I see the disappointed look on her face.
“Because you my darling are a skinful of magic, and delicious to boot!”
I hate it when she starts talking in riddles.
“Vicky, I’m a little lost here – help me out will you?” I chuckle so not to offend her.
“Did he not speak to you about it last night – no – wow, okay, well Jake Wethers just called me and has asked the magazine to host his official bio! Arrghhh!” she screams.
It’s way too early for Vicky’s hysterical screaming. But wow that is so totally cool.
“He called you himself? Don’t they usually have their PA’s do this stuff?”
“Yes!” She screams again. “I know I could not believe it!”
“Wow. That is awesome Vicky! Really awesome! I’m so pleased for you – for us – for the magazine!”
And I might get a chance to see Jake again, maybe.
I feel a little frisson of excitement buzz inside me at the thought.
“So who is his biographer?” I ask taking my jacket off and hanging it on the back of my chair. I wonder if it’s anyone I know. I’m going to probably have to work with them for the spreads … that is if Vicky is putting me on it. God, I hope she is.
She cocks her eyebrow at me in confusion. “Jake really hasn’t spoken with you about any of this? He never mentioned anything at dinner?”
“No. Mentioned what?”
“Well, my darling girl, I’m happy to tell you that Jake’s official biographer is … well – you.”
What? What?!
All I can do is stare at her dumbfounded. And then my mobile starts to ring on my desk.
But I can’t move. I’m frozen to the spot.
He’s hired me? Jake’s hired me to write his bio without even asking me. Is that even legal?