‘Are you sure?’ I reply. ‘They won’t turn up to surprise you?’
‘Nah, they live in Canada, and they work, so I don’t think they can make the trip,’ he replies. ‘I’ll grab you the key card from reception. You could invite JJ, get her to bring you some clothes, have a girly night – it’ll be fun.’
That does sound like fun, despite the circumstances.
My throat tightens. Of course he’d do this. Of course he’d look after me even though he’s unintentionally wrecking my life at the same time. He’s a good man.
‘Are you sure?’ I check.
He rolls his eyes.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ he insists.
‘Well, then yes, thank you, that would be a big help,’ I reply.
‘I can’t believe you fell in the fountain,’ he says as we wander towards the reception desk.
‘I can’t believe you proposed like that, in public,’ I reply.
‘Neither can I, to be honest,’ he tells me. ‘But it just felt right.’
Once I have the key card Andy returns to Cordelia, so I take my phone from my bag to call JJ, to invite her to join me – and to ask for clean clothes.
JJ answers on the second ring.
‘How did it go?’ she asks.
‘I fell in the fountain,’ I say simply. ‘Can you bring me some clothes?’
‘Oh, Whit,’ she says sympathetically. ‘Of course – I’ll come ASAP.’
‘I have a room, if you fancy a night here?’ I suggest. ‘We could get room service, watch movies…’
‘I’m in,’ she replies. ‘I’ll grab my things, and your things, and I’ll be right there. Did he at least get the ring okay?’
‘Yes,’ I say with a heavy sigh. ‘And then he proposed again. In front of me. While I dripped on the probably centuries-old carpet.’
Silence for a second. Then…
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can, go get a drink,’ she insists.
‘On it,’ I assure her.
Although I think I might need a cup of tea, to warm up a bit.
‘So, it was all bad?’ she checks.
‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘Actually, no, I did meet a sexy cowboy.’
‘Every romance writer’s dream,’ she says with a laugh. ‘I look forward to hearing all about that. See you soon.’
‘Yeah, see you,’ I reply.
I wander over to the window and look outside, half expecting to see Biscuits there, or the cowboy working out by dead-lifting a tractor, but there’s no sign of them.
I’m sure they were real. They had to be.
Well, at least tonight will be better than today, a night with JJ in a plush hotel room with room service and wine and trashy movies on the TV. And I’ll tell her all about the cowboy. She’ll love it. Real or not, he was a total dreamboat. And if he hadn’t been there to help me, well, maybe my bad day would have been a bit worse.
