Page 54 of Never Date a Celebrity

“But it’s your baby. You had the idea, made all the arrangements. Piper and I are just along for the ride.”

“Hmm. And thank God you are.” They shared a smile. “My point is, you’ll not crack unless you really want to. I’m sure you can control yourself. You’re not weak, Im.”

Maybe she was when it came to Amy. “What would we even do? It would have to be the least date-like activity ever. Like a crochet class or something.”

“Do they have those in Ballyluck?”

Imogen grinned. “Not that I know of. Maybe it could be our next venture after we retire from bar work.”

“Writing that one down for the future,” Niamh said, putting an imaginary pen to her palm. “Did Amy suggest anything?”

“Yes. Date things! My place. Her hotel. Somewhere else.”

Niamh laughed. “I don’t think she was suggesting date things. It sounds more like she was suggesting all the things. Putting the ball in your court.”

That made sense. Amy had sounded like she was trying to be accommodating in her message. “Yeah, well she was being flirtatious too.”

“Tell her to stop,” Niamh said like it was the simplest thing in the world. Imogen hesitated and Niamh picked up on it instantly. “Ah. You don’t want her to stop.”

“No, but I need her to.”

“Do you really though?” Niamh asked. “Would it really be so terrible to be with someone famous? There isn’t a woman who likes women in the world who wouldn’t want to be in your position right now. And plenty of men too, I’m sure. It’s Amelia Whitlock, Imogen.”

“Believe me, I’m only too aware.” It had been easier when Amelia Whitlock was only a name that Imogen had heard in passing every now and again. A faceless celebrity whom she knew her friends had the hots for. Everything had gotten so heavy and complicated since Imogen found out who Amy really was. It almost made Imogen wish she’d kept lying. Almost. “It wouldn’t be terrible to date Amy. My short experience of dating Amy was marvellous. However, it would be terrible to date Amelia Whitlock. Because the sad fact is that there would be countless people out there in the world actively hating on me for no reason. Spreading lies and tearing me apart, and that would be terrible, yes.”

“Couldn’t you just ignore it, if it were to happen?”

“You mean when, because there’s always someone out there who wants to bring you down.” Imogen knew she sounded like a pessimist, but from her experience it was true.

“But they don’t know you, so fuck them. Pretend they don’t exist.”

“I tried that before, but it still has an effect.” When things had ended with Chelsea, strangers online had torn Imogen apart like they knew her personally from a handful of videos and comment sections. People called her cold, controlling, miserable—like they had any idea what their relationship had actually been like behind a camera. Some people had said worse things that she couldn’t bear to think about. Even before the breakup, the abuse had gotten so bad that Imogen had ended up deleting all of her social media just to escape it. Afterwards, she’d become paranoid in public. Maybe it was irrational, but if somebody looked at her for a second too long or whispered nearby, her mind instantly jumped to wondering if they recognised her from the internet and had already decided they hated her. “I would never date a celebrity, Niamh. And that’s that.”

“Are we talking about Amelia Whitlock again?” Piper asked as she returned with a tray filled with glasses and wooden boards.

Imogen nodded. “I was telling Niamh that she wants to meet me.”

Piper set the tray on the bar and beamed. “Yeah? Tell her to come here.”

Imogen’s first instinct was to decline, but then she found herself considering it. “That might not be a bad idea, you know. At least I’d have you both on hand for moral support.”

Piper’s eyes practically twinkled. “Oh, we’d be here alright.”

“And you could disappear up to your place if things get too much or you need space.” Niamh turned and looked pointedly at Piper.

“Oh aye,” Piper said. “Because you’d be so much better. I do know how to play it cool, you know. Ask any number of women.”

Niamh rolled her eyes.

“Saw that,” Piper said.

“You were meant to,” Niamh shot back. “Seriously though, we will behave. Won’t we, Pipes?”

“Uh-huh. Cross my heart.” Her mischievous smile said otherwise, but Imogen had to laugh. Piper would always be Piper—it was why they loved her like they did.

“Okay, fine. I’ll ask her to meet here.” Before she changed her mind, Imogen picked up her phone and fired off the message extending Amy an invitation to the pub on whatever night she was free. Then she quickly shoved the phone back into her pocket like it was burning her hand. Imogen did that anytime she sent a text that she was nervous about—hid from the response for at least a half hour afterward. Thankfully, the Wishing Well was busier than normal, and she had some actual work to do. She grabbed a tray and wandered across the pub to grab the rest of the empty glasses. Maybe that would take her mind off the fact that her phone had already buzzed in her jeans pocket and butterflies in her tummy had gone feral.

“Hey, Willy. How are you tonight?” Imogen asked as she cleared away three wine glasses from the table next to his—three wine glasses that had been ordered by three women Imogen had never seen before, meaning they had officially attracted some new customers. Better yet, those glasses were from their second round of drinks after they’d already shared one of the fancy charcuterie boards. People were staying. Spending money. Enjoying themselves. Imogen could hardly believe it.