Chapter 19
Alexander
I wake with a sense of sadness or desperation, like I came out of a dream which was particularly good.
Maybe I did, but my mind won’t take me back to check.
I only feel the loss of it in my grogginess.
As I awaken further, I’m reminded of another loss, and I wonder if that was the only one.
Maybe my brain won’t take me back to a dream because there wasn’t one.
Only the loss of a woman who was never even mine.
I get out of bed and open the curtains, the sun high in the sky. I’ll get this sleep schedule sorted out by the time I head back to the States.
My phone pings with a notification. I hope it’s Ivy, but it isn’t.
GREY
Hey! I need an update on the Ivy situation. You guys in love yet?
ALEXANDER
It’s already over. She couldn’t see past our logistical problems.
GREY
What? How? You’re amazing! You’re not giving up, are you?
ALEXANDER
Yeah. I don’t have a choice.
GREY
Is she still in London? If so, you need to give it one more shot. I’ll be super mad at you if you don’t.
I roll my eyes, but maybe she’s right. I decide to text Ivy.
ALEXANDER
Are you busy? Would you meet me somewhere? It can be as brief as you like.
It’s not until I’ve showered and had breakfast that I hear back from her.
BEAUTIFUL IVY
Sure. Val and Micah took the kids to do some kid things. I decided to hang back and find other things to get up to. Just tell me when and where.
Oh my gosh. She said she’ll meet with me. I didn’t even have to convince her. I hadn’t let my hopes get too high, but now they are soaring.
I’m sitting on a bench in a park near Ivy’s hotel. I’d offered to pick her up, but she wanted to walk to meet me. Fair enough. It gave me time to stop and pick up a Cornish pasty. I hope she hasn’t already tried one.
I’m holding the same newspaper from the other day in front of my face when someone who smells faintly of flowers sits beside me.
“Aren’t you that famous actor? Brad Hawthorne? I almost didn’t recognize you with this masterful disguise. Glasses and a newspaper? You really know what you’re doing.”
I smile toward my paper. She isn't shutting me out. This is a good sign. I turn my smile toward her. “You can’t be too careful with the riff-raff around here.” I eye her suspiciously.
She’s so beautiful. She’s wearing a red dress with sneakers, and her hair is wilder than I’ve seen it.
I love it, but the urge to touch it threatens to make this more awkward than it needs to be.
“I brought you something.”
She narrows her eyes playfully at me. “You’re not trying to buy me, are you, Mr. Hawthorne?”
“Oh. I know better than that. What did you say your name was again? Betty Copperfield?”
She snorts a laugh, and I’m delighted. She’s in the mood to have some fun, and it will work right along with what I’m about to propose.
“Yes, I’m Betty, and I’m so curious about what you have for me, a person you just met on this bench.”
I grin at her. Her fun side is really out to play today.
I grab the white paper bag that has been sitting to my right and hand it to Ivy. She looks excited as she opens the bag and pulls out the wrapped pasty.
“What is it?”
“It’s a Cornish pasty. It has beef, vegetables, and seasonings. Have you already tried one?”
“No. This will be the first.”
“Good. I thought, as a restaurateur, you might like to try something new. I noticed how you enjoyed trying the different foods at the restaurant the other night.”
“I do love trying new foods. I also have problems hyper-fixating on foods, which keeps me from trying new things. You never know with me.” She shrugs and pulls back the paper and takes a bite.
She groans. I simply watched as she closed her eyes, enjoying the flavors. “Holy smokes, that is delicious.”
“I'm so glad you like it. Did you do anything exciting yesterday?” Ivy handed it to me, and I took a small bite.
It was very good. I knew it would be. Growing up, my family frequented the pasty shop near our house, and I was excited to find it was still up and running.
I handed the pasty back to Ivy, who took it with glee.
“We went to Buckingham Palace.”
“Really? I was there yesterday too. Albeit briefly. It’s too bad I didn’t bump into you.”
Ivy snorts a laugh as she chews. Wow, I like her.
“So, I have an idea,” I start. For the first time since she sat down, I’m unsure. Not only that she might think it’s a terrible idea, but that it might actually be. I could be setting us up for heartache in a week or so. But I feel like it’s my only chance.
“What is it?” she asks at my hesitation, before taking another bite.
“Let’s pretend we’re in a relationship. Knowing it isn’t real. Knowing at the end of your trip, we will go our separate ways. I just … I want to spend time with you. I like you; the reasons we wouldn’t work are valid, but I don’t see why we can’t enjoy some time now while we have it.”
“You … so … what? I thought you might suggest we be friends while I’m here, but you want us to pretend we are dating?”
“Yes. We have meals together. I can show you around a bit. Maybe you can help me with my riddles, whenever I get another one of those.”
“Friends do those sorts of things,” Ivy said.
“They do,” I concede. “But I think we have too much chemistry to stop at friends. We would be fighting it the entire time. Why not embrace it?”
She turned to look out at the grassy park. “But … what about other things couples do? Like—”
I slide my arm around her shoulders and pull her to me. “Like this?”
“Yes.”
I turn and nuzzle my cheek against hers and whisper, “And this?”
“Mmm hmm,” she breathes.
I lean back and catch Ivy’s eye as I twine my fingers with hers. “This?”
She nods, looking back toward the park.
“Yes, I think a pretend relationship would have lots of these encounters. And similar,” I say, and her eyes shoot back to me. I wonder if she is thinking about kissing, like I am. I run my thumb up and down her upper arm. “What do you think?”
She swallows. “I think it would be awfully hard to remember it was fake. I don’t want to get attached and go home with a broken heart.”
“We’d have to remind each other.”
“You think that will work?”
“I think if it’s not, we can reevaluate what we’re doing. We can check in with each other.”
She stares at me in thought.
“I’ll buy you all the fish and chips you want.”
This makes her grin. “You drive a hard bargain.”
She looks down at her lap and the remnants of Cornish pasty sitting there. “You’re going to spoil me, aren’t you?”
“Oh, absolutely. My pretend girlfriend deserves everything.”
“Hang on. Is this what you did with Grey Blankenship?”
“That was totally different. Fake just isn’t real. Pretend is more.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Okay, maybe it’s technically the same. But it isn’t. I promise.” I remove my hand from hers and trail the backs of my fingers down her cheek. “I didn’t mean it with Grey.”
“I know you meant that to be reassuring, but that’s what I worry about. We can’t mean it too much.”
She’s right, and I get it, but just sitting with her these past minutes has shown me that it would never be pretend for me.
I’d come into this hopeful that she would change her mind at the end, but thinking I could move on without heartache if she didn’t.
I was wrong, but I’m going for it anyway.
Just the chance she will change her mind is worth the risk.
“I’ll remind you and we won’t let it get too real.”
She leans into my hand, which had turned to cup her cheek. Her voice is soft and threatens to give me chills. “I’ll pretend with you, Alex.”
Now here’s hoping I can show her what it would be like to be loved by me and that she deems it worth it.