“Um, Jett?”
Grace looks up timidly from the sofa, where she’s been scrolling through her iPad.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she says, looking like she wishes she could just die on the spot. “But there are some new photos on TMZ — and most of the other gossip sites, too. They’ve also found your Instagram, Lexie,” she adds, glancing at me apologetically. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”
Jett and I spring forward simultaneously, our heads almost clashing as we both bend over the iPad she’s holding.
These photos aren’t quite so bad, I’m relieved to see. Well, the ones taken in the coffee shop this morning aren’tgreat, to be honest, but at least they’ve been taken from far enough away that you can’t see the dark shadows under my eyes from lack of sleep. The ones from my heavily curated Instagram, however, show me at my very best, and I sneak a sidelong glance at Jett, wondering what he’s thinking as he looks at them.
Nothing, would appear to be the answer to that, though. Absolutely nothing.
Jett’s expression is inscrutable as he plucks the iPad from Grace’s trembling fingers and scrolls past the photos until he gets to the text underneath.
“Shit,” he says at last, running an exasperated hand through his hair. “This is worse than I thought. I’m getting absolutely dragged in the comments on this thing. They reckon I’m some kind of sexual predator who picks up women in bars, then kicks them out the next morning.”
“Asher says you’re not supposed to read the comments,” Grace says, blushing. “He says I’m supposed to read them for you, then let him know if there’s anything you should be aware of.”
“And he should definitely be aware of this,” Asher interrupts, holding up his phone. “It’s not just TMZ saying it, Jett. It’s everyone. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you have much of a choice right now. You’re going to have to do something fast, before it gets out of hand. We’ll let you two talk.”
He nods again to Grace, who gets up and scuttles after him as he strides across the room towards the door, which Leroy is still holding open.
“We’ll be just down the hall,” Asher says, as the three of them leave. “Take as long as you need. Just… nottoolong, okay?”
The door closes behind them, leaving Jett and I alone.
Awkward.
It would be strange enough finding yourself alone with a Hollywood superstar even if youweren’tsupposed to be discussing the possibility of becoming his fake girlfriend, but given that Ihavesomehow managed to find myself in this totally bizarre situation, I don’t quite know what to do with myself.
“Shall we take a seat?” Jett asks, coming to my rescue.
I hesitate. I really want to go home. But I also really want to stay here and see where this is going to lead. Oh, comeon— it’s Jett Carter, man of my teenage dreams. The least I can do is hear the guy out, right?
“Okay.”
He sits back down on the sofa, and this time I take a seat beside him, perching carefully on the very edge of the cushions, so I don’t get swallowed up by them.
“So, fake relationship, huh?” I say, desperately wanting to break the silence that falls once we’re both seated. “That’s actually a thing here, then?”
“Oh, it’s a thing alright. You’d be surprised.”
Jett’s tone is neutral, but I see his lip curl with something like distaste.
“And what exactly would I have to do?” I ask, nibbling nervously at my thumbnail. “Not that I’m going to do it, obviously, just… just out of curiosity? What does being the fake girlfriend of Jett Carter actually involve?”
I’m not lying. I’mdyingof curiosity here. I’m nottotallynaïve. I’ve read the gossip pages. I know there are always rumors about celebrity romances; how some of them are just for the publicity, like when two co-stars have a movie to promote, say, and they want to get maximum exposure for it by pretending to be madly in love.Showmances, Summer calls them. OrFauxmances, if you prefer.
I’ve heard about all the faux-show romances. I just didn’t for a second ever imagine myself being asked to beinone. Although there’s not exactly ahugedemand for fake celebrity romances back in the Scottish Highlands, to be fair.
“Not much,” Jett says, shrugging. “A few photos, probably. Maybe we’d go out to dinner or something, make it look like we were on a date. Oh, and you’d get paid, obviously. Asher will fill you in on the details, if you really want to know.”
“I’d getpaid? To go on dates with you? Are you actually serious?”
I feel a hysterical laugh start to work its way up my throat. This is absolutelyinsane. Like,batshitinsane.
All the same, though, I have to admit, I’m intrigued.
And ever-so-slightly tempted.
