‘What’s all this about, then?’ asked Zoe. ‘Because last time I saw you, you had unwashed hair and were pining for Charlie and now you’re saying you’re falling for Marcus Taylor?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Is the feeling mutual?’
Ha, course it wasn’t. Not that I had feelings for him either, but even if I had, I think I could safely say that they would not have been reciprocated.
‘Ava?’
‘Yes?’
‘Have you had sex with Marcus Taylor?’
Nope. I couldn’t do this. Zoe knew me too well and although we’d daydreamed about many a celebrity in our time – she’d never quite got over her Harry Styles crush and I was firmly in the Robert Pattinson camp – we’d always had the foresight to know that these were nothing more than fantasies. Hell, living with Charlie for years had soon made me realise the depth of what could actually be expected from a real-life romance. There would be no awards ceremonies or luxurious facials or personal trainers or exotic beach holidays for me and honestly, I was fine with that; what I’d had with Charlie had been more than enough. And yet, if I dug deep, being in Monte Carlo, spending time at the country club and at posh dinners – itwasexciting.
‘Ava, I’m getting really worried here. Are you drunk? You can’t be jet-lagged, you’re only just past France. What iswrong?’
Aaaaargh. Nope, sorry, I was going to have to come clean.
‘Okay. But you’re going to have to promise – no,swear– that you won’t tell a single soul,’ I said, my voice sounding grave.
‘Tell them what?!’
‘We’re pretending to date. Okay? Marcus Taylor and I are faking a relationship so that he can show the press that he’s not a total robot and I can make Charlie jealous. Oh, and Amanda likes the idea, so that’s another reason for doing it.’
I fiddled with my fingernails, chipping away at the red polish I’d hastily applied the night before leaving London. Stupidly, I hadn’t brought the bottle with me and couldn’t do any touch-ups so I should probably stop picking at it. The type of woman who lived or stayed in Monaco did not have raggedy nails.
‘You’re joking?’ said Zoe.
I adjusted myself, sitting more upright as I didn’t think being slumped on a bed was the correct position for a conversation as important as this. And Zoe didn’t sound happy. I was clearly going to have to fight my corner here. This was my decision, I reminded myself.
‘I’m not, and I stand by it,’ I said, holding my head up high even though Zoe couldn’t actually see this attempt at bravado. Zoe could be tough, but I was fully prepared.
‘Whose idea was all of this?’ asked Zoe, clearly utterly perplexed.
I explained what had happened, from bumping into Marcus on the plane, to the pictures the French woman had clearly sold to the press, Marcus’s temper and the repercussions for his sponsorship deals and Dean’s initially unbelievable suggestion.
‘And so in the end, we both decided that there were more pros than cons. We’re both single, nobody’s getting hurt here. So why not?’
‘I can think of several reasons,’ said Zoe, sounding massively disgruntled. ‘You’re extremely fragile at the moment, Ava. I’m notsure potentially being ripped to shreds by the British press is going to help you to repair your damaged self-esteem.’
‘I hardly think a few pics of me watching Marcus play tennis will result in me being ripped to shreds.’ At least, I very much hoped not. ‘Also, I’m not fragile, I was just shocked and a bit blindsided when Charlie left. It’s normal to grieve a relationship. Did you know there are several stages of—’
‘Yes, you’ve already told me what you read in your self-help book about how to get over a break-up. I’m just not convinced you’re thinking clearly,’ she said.
‘And so what if I’m not? What if pretending to date Marcus Taylor is, I don’t know, fun?’
I frowned to myself. Did I mean that? Because how could it be? And yet, I had to admit that this was the most exhilarating thing that had happened to me in years, perhaps even a lifetime. It was the stuff of daydreams, wasn’t it, a handsome sports star on your arm, being photographed while serenely watching Wimbledon (I could see it now, and had already been giving my outfit some thought). Part of me felt as though I deserved to do something just for the hell of it, because, up until now, almost every part of my life had been controlled by my parents, and then in a way by Charlie, not because he was controlling per se, but because I’d naturally put his needs ahead of mine in certain – most – scenarios. And sure, the fake dating thing might well go pear-shaped, but it couldn’t feel any worse than Charlie moving out, and essentially Marcus had more to lose than I did. Amanda would be disappointed if she found out it was all a hoax, but I’d never exactly said the words ‘I’m dating Marcus Taylor’, I’d just let her believe what she wanted to believe. The worst thing she could do was pull the article, and honestly? Much as I wanted thisLuxepiece to come off, more than any other job in my entire career, I’d lost out on stuff before, and I’d survived, and if it came to it, I supposed I would again.
‘I think you should sleep on this,’ said Zoe. ‘Think about it carefully, Ava. Please don’t rush into anything.’
‘Good idea,’ I said, thinking of the restaurant trip, of the photos of us that hadn’t yet surfaced and were way more incriminating than anything that had seen the light of day so far.
I ended the call with Zoe, trying not to let her burst my bubble. And then I frantically texted her the most important thing I’d forgotten to say:
Promise you won’t tell anyone about this, Zo, even if you don’t agree with it. Marcus and I made a pact not to tell anyone. You’re the only person who knows this isn’t real!!!
I watched as three little dots indicated that Zoe was typing. They kept disappearing and reappearing and in the end she just sent a thumbs-up emoji. Disappointing my best friend wasn’t a great feeling, but also, she’d get over it. Turned out that upsetting people didn’t feel as bad as I thought it would.
