Chapter 6
JAKE
I’d been on a lot of awkward first dates in my thirty-six years on this earth, but this was one of the worst I’d ever had.
We’d been here less than an hour and it was already a shit show.
The conversation sucked.
Not that you could even call it that because a conversation involved both parties talking.
Whenever I tried to ask a question, Halle either glared or gave monosyllabic answers. And that was before we got to the fact that she wasn’t even remotely in the public eye and, most critically, didn’t want to be.
Ordinarily, meeting someone who had zero interest in fame would be a breath of fresh air, especially after what happened to me before.
I hated the whole ‘celebrity scene’. I’d spent a lot of years wishing that people would see me as a person instead of someone who could get them into parties or give them a leg up in the industry.
But in this case, Halle not wanting to raise her profile was a disaster.
Wilma assured me that I’d be matched with someone who had the same agenda. In other words, someone who hadn’t come here to fall in love.
I’d made it crystal clear from the start that I didn’t want to lead anyone on. And despite that I’d been matched with someone who was looking for a damn happily-ever-after.
What the hell was I supposed to do now?
I couldn’t exactly tell Halle that I was only here because I was desperate to get my career back on track and had no interest in her romantically. She’d think I was a jerk. And she’d be right.
I told Wilma that this was a shitty idea.
I was supposed to be taking photos to help secure some corny reality show. But Halle made it clear that she wasn’t down for taking pictures with me. Hell, she wasn’t even on social media.
These days, finding someone who wasn’t surgically attached to their cell phone was like discovering a unicorn.
I thought I was the only one who hated that BS, so once again, ordinarily, I’d find her aversion to it refreshing.
But for the purposes of pimping the shit out of this hotel stay, this was a bust.
My cell vibrated in my pocket. When I slid it out, there was a message.
Wilma
Where are the photos, Jakey boy?
Post something NOW!!
I groaned and shoved it back in my pocket. It was already rude for me to leave the table, so I wasn’t gonna start posting during dinner. Wilma would need to wait until I’d finished.
When the server placed my steak and fries on the table, I couldn’t wait to devour it. I was starving. But then I remembered that I was supposed to be documenting everything.
I held my phone up in the air, plastered on a fake smile, then took a shot of me licking my lips whilst staring at the plate with the ocean views behind me.
So fucking corny.
‘Unbelievable,’ Halle sighed.
‘Don’t like taking photos of your food?’ I asked.
‘I prefer to eat it,’ she said.
‘Me t—’ I was about to agree with her, then remembered I was the one who’d just taken a cheesy food pic, so I’d look like a hypocrite. I knew I was, but Halle didn’t need to know that too.
Not that it mattered, considering it was clear that for whatever reason Halle was not my biggest fan.
‘How’s your salad?’ I asked, changing the topic.
‘Delicious. Why? Want to take a photo of that too, to post on the ’gram?’
‘You got a problem with me?’
‘I… it doesn’t matter,’ she sighed again. ‘Let’s just eat.’
‘Look, I don’t know what I’ve done to offend you, but like it or not, we’re here for two weeks together. And things will be a lot less painful if we can at least try to have a civil conversation and get to know each other.’
‘Not necessarily,’ she mumbled, which was confusing. ‘So what do you want to talk about?’ she huffed. ‘Yourself?’
‘Why? Am I your favourite subject?’ I smirked, deciding that I might as well try and have some fun. ‘I can tell by how you’ve been flirting with me all night that you’re a fan. Bet you’ve been to all my concerts and you had a poster of me by your bed that you used to kiss every night. Am I right?’
Halle’s face fell and her cheeks flushed.
‘Of course not!’ she protested.
‘Ah! No, I get it. You didn’t just have one poster. You covered your bedroom walls with hundreds of posters of me.’
‘As if!’ Her face hardened.
‘Actually, I think you’re coming on so strong right now that maybe I should call security. You’re borderline obsessed with me!’ I laughed.
‘The only one obsessed with you is you. Your ego’s so big that I’m surprised there’s room for anyone else in this restaurant!’
‘Just trying to lighten the mood, sweetheart. You’re sitting there, glaring at me like I’d just asked you to lick my butt hole on the first date.’
‘Gross.’
‘Hey! Kink shaming isn’t okay.’
‘Neither is talking about licking arseholes at the dinner table.’
‘Says the woman who spoke about licking a pig’s butt earlier.’
‘I didn’t say I wanted to do that! I said I’d rather lick it than take a selfie with you, that’s different.’
‘Uh-huh. If you say so, sweetheart.’
Halle rolled her eyes disapprovingly, then fixated her gaze on her southern fried chicken and fries.
‘So, do you live in LA?’ I asked, still determined to keep the conversation going.
‘No. New York.’
‘Cool. How long you lived there?’
‘Six years.’
Jesus. This was like getting blood out of a stone.
‘Anytime you want to elaborate on your answers would be good. And if you really want to go crazy, maybe you could ask me some questions too so that we could have a real conversation.’
She sighed, then paused for a few beats.
‘My dad’s originally from New York and after he separated from Mum, he moved back when I was in my mid-twenties.
My best friend, Vanessa, had also landed a big job at a law firm in the city by then too, so I used to visit as often as I could.
And during one of my trips, I met someone and I ended up staying. ’
‘Met someone? Like a boyfriend?’
‘Yes.’
‘Care to elaborate?’
‘No. Listen, I appreciate you making an effort to make conversation, but I’m tired. It’s been a long day.’ She swallowed the last piece of chicken, then pushed her knife and fork together in the centre of her plate.
‘Got it. We done here?’
‘Yep. Enjoy the rest of your evening.’ She stood up, pushed her chair back then left.
Well, that went well.
I’d only spent a couple of hours with her and it was more painful than surgery without anaesthetic.
If I couldn’t even get through dinner with her, how the hell was I gonna survive two weeks?
And more importantly, how would I convince her to go along with Wilma’s plan?