ELEVEN
MY PHONE VIbrATES FOR the third time since I came up to the staff room for lunch, but I ignore it. When I pulled it out of my bag earlier, there were five missed calls and three WhatsApp messages from Gio, all variations on the same theme, and all since 10 a.m., which is presumably the time he woke up, hopefully with the worst hangover ever. By that point, however, Ava and I were already back in Cambridge, courtesy of an anxious-looking yet ever professional Izabel.
I don’t want to talk to Gio. I don’t even want to think about him because a) I’m at work, b) I did enough thinking about him last night, storming around the hotel room while Ava tried to calm me down, and c) I meant what I said about our agreement being over. Silverstone was an incredible experience, but I didn’t like the Gio I met yesterday evening, and not just because of the neanderthal way he reacted to me talking with Luc. It was the way he treated him too, like it was more than rivalry, like it was actual loathing. I didn’t particularly like Luc either, but whatever that was, it didn’t seem healthy.
I’m also a little shaken up by how I felt watching the race. Residual energy is still singing in my veins, making my nerves buzz. It was the way I used to feel when I was biking, a thrilling combination of fear and excitement. I thought that kind of intensity of feeling was behind me, that I would never experience it again, but yesterday I did and it felt really good, like a part of me I’d thought had died was actually just dormant and had woken up.
Since I’m not sure what to do with this realization, however, I drain the last of my caramel latte and head back downstairs. Lauren and I are the only ones working today and, since I haven’t told her anything about my new ‘boyfriend’, Suds is a blissfully Gio-free zone.
‘How are you feeling?’ I ask when I get back to the counter.
‘A little tired.’ Lauren smiles weakly, though it looks like a huge effort. She’s prone to migraines, and right now she looks like a zombie.
‘Why don’t you go upstairs and put your feet up?’ I suggest, gesturing at the empty shop. ‘I’ll deal with the crowds.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ Her expression turns hopeful.
‘Positive. Take as long as you need. I’ll call if I need you.’
‘Thank you!’ She squeezes my arm gratefully. ‘You’re a lifesaver.’
I wander around the shop, straightening displays, while she hobbles slowly upstairs. In an unguarded moment, I find myself reminiscing about my time with Gio before the race. Despite our mutual nerves, I enjoyed myself more than I had expected to. Sitting on the bed, eating chips and watching Bridgerton was fun.
A couple come into the shop, so I give them a welcoming smile and then step back behind the counter so they don’t feel like I’m watching them. I obviously am watching them, since we get a lot of shoplifters, but discreetly, like a devoted butler rather than a security guard. Either way, I’m ready to leap out and accost them or recommend Optimism, as required.
The old-fashioned bell above the door jingles again. It’s a family this time, my least favourite category of customer since 90 per cent of the time it means no sale and five minutes spent clearing up their mess afterwards. I hope I’m wrong, but past experience has made me bitter.
They leave the door open, because of course they do, so I’m on my way to close it when another hand grabs the frame and my smile, which has already faltered at the sight of two tweens and a toddler, drops completely.
‘G-Gio?’ I stutter his name as he makes a beeline towards me, a Cambridge United cap pulled low over his face. ‘What are you doing here?’ I throw a quick look around the shop, making sure nobody is watching us, just in time to see one of the tweens knock several bars of Glee on to the floor and abandon them. Sometimes I hate being right.
‘You’re not answering your phone,’ he says, coming to stand right in front of me.
‘Because I don’t want to,’ I hiss, folding my arms to compensate for the fact that I can’t shout at him here. Also because my heart is kicking so hard I’m afraid it might be visible. ‘Some people would take that as a hint.’
‘This is important. We need to talk about last night.’
‘So, you remember it?’ I give him a scathing look and turn on my heel, stalking away behind the counter.
‘I remember enough.’ He follows me, going to stand on the opposite side. ‘I get that my behaviour wasn’t great.’
‘Not great?’ I laugh at the understatement. ‘It was completely toxic. You acted like a narcissist, like you owned me or something.’
‘I didn’t mean to do that, but you know how I feel about Farron.’
‘You still have no right to tell me who I can and can’t speak to.’ Out of the corner of my eye, I see the family leave without buying anything to compensate for the mess they’ve left behind. It makes me even angrier. ‘All I did was go out to the balcony for some air. I bumped into him accidentally. What was I supposed to do, ignore him?’
Gio’s jaw clenches like, yes, that’s exactly what he thinks I should have done, but he manages not to say it.
‘You were rude and disrespectful and this –’ I wave a hand between us – ‘is over. I wouldn’t real-date somebody who treated me like that, so I’m not fake-doing it either.’
‘We have a contract.’ His voice hardens.
I tense and thrust my chin out. In retrospect, I wish I’d got the contract checked by a lawyer, but what’s he going to do, sue me? He’s the one afraid of bad publicity. Although if he does sue me, I’ll be completely screwed …
Oh no, what if he actually sues me?
Thankfully Gio saves my head from exploding by bracing his hands against the edge of the counter and dropping his hot gaze. ‘You’re right, I overreacted. Farron just brings out the worst in me.’
‘I noticed.’ I practically sag with relief.
‘If it helps, at least five different people called me a dumbass afterwards.’
‘It does help. A little,’ I admit. ‘You were a total dumbass, which isn’t very attractive.’
‘I get it. And I’m …’ He pauses, like he actually finds it hard to say the word. ‘Sorry.’
I stare hard at him, letting him squirm for a few more seconds. His sorrowful expression looks sincere. Kind of puppyish too, in a way I don’t want to find cute, but …
‘What is it between you and Farron anyway?’ I demand, pushing the feeling away. ‘I know you’re rivals, but …’
‘That’s not it,’ he answers quickly.
‘Then what is— Hiiiii.’ I twist away from him, fixing a can-I-help-you look back on my face as the couple approach the counter.
‘This smells gorgeous,’ the woman says, placing two bars of Vivacity in front of me.
‘It’s one of my favourites too.’ I smile, wrapping the bars up in tissue paper while Gio wanders off. I’m supposed to tell her we also have bath bombs in the same scent, but there’s no time for that. I don’t want to calm down prematurely when I still have arguing to do.
‘Is that who I think it is?’ the man murmurs, leaning across the counter towards me. ‘I heard he lives around here.’
‘Hmm? Oh no, that’s my cousin Felix,’ I lie as I process the payment. ‘People make that mistake all the time. He could probably make a living as a lookalike, but Felix is much nicer. Just between us, I’ve heard that Bauer is a real pain in the ass.’ I hand the woman her bag as the man looks crestfallen. ‘Here you go. Enjoy the rest of your day!’
‘I deserved that.’ Gio comes back to the counter the moment they’ve gone.
‘Yes, you did.’
‘Look, I have to get to HQ for race analysis or Mark’s going to lose his shit, but can we talk later?’
‘No.’ I fold my arms again. ‘I’m still angry.’
‘Tomorrow, then?’
‘What makes you think I won’t be angry tomorrow?’
‘Wednesday?’
‘Still not long enough.’
‘Thursday?’
‘I’m working here all day.’
‘I’ll pick you up when you finish. We can go out to dinner, anywhere you want.’
‘Dinner isn’t part of our contract.’
‘I know, but just give me a chance to explain about Farron. Please?’
I tap my foot. Common sense tells me I should cut and run now, but I don’t want to, I realize. Up until this argument, I was actually enjoying being his fake girlfriend. Plus I’m curious. Whatever the reason behind his rift with Farron, it must be something big. And I still have an essay to write …
‘Fine.’ I toss my head. ‘There’s a sushi restaurant on Mill Road. You can pick me up at five.’
‘HEY.’ AVA IS LYING on the sofa when I get home.
‘Hi!’ I head straight for the kettle. ‘You’re home early?’
‘They let me leave because of the bags under my eyes. Are you making tea?’
‘Yes. Want some?’
‘Please. I’m so tired I can’t move. I was helping my mentor prepare a presentation on new gaming trends and I almost fell asleep mid-sentence.’
‘Oh no, are you in trouble?’
‘Not once I told her the reason. It turns out she’s a big Formula 1 fan too.’ She watches me as I rummage in the cupboard for clean cups. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Still fine. You don’t have to keep asking.’
‘Yes, I do. I feel partly responsible for what happened.’
‘Ha!’ I find two Winnie-the-Pooh mugs at the back of the cupboard. ‘Hang on … why?’
‘Because I basically coerced you into that first date with Gio on my podcast. I got so caught up in the idea of him being a Formula 1 driver.’
‘It was my decision to see him again.’
‘Yes, but I encouraged you.’ She sounds genuinely regretful. ‘I didn’t stop to think whether it would be repeating a negative pattern.’
‘Um, aren’t I the one who’s supposed to psychoanalyse?’ I drop teabags into the mugs. ‘Anyway, I don’t have a pattern.’
There’s a pointed silence behind me as I open the fridge for some milk.
‘I do not have a pattern,’ I repeat, turning round this time.
Ava’s lips are so tightly compressed that her top one is invisible.
‘ I do not! ’
‘Maybe you’re just not fully aware of it?’
‘So, tell me what pattern I’m supposed to have and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong.’
‘OK.’ She pulls herself up to a sitting position. ‘Well, no offence, but you do have a habit of dating total dicks. Remember how Harrison would never make plans until the last minute?’
I realize I can’t even remember the last time I thought about Harrison. Guess fake-dating has some uses. ‘That doesn’t mean—’
‘And that guy before him – James? Who kept calling me Amy and forgot your birthday?’
‘I thought you liked him …’
‘I’m not saying they were totally bad. I mean, they were fun, but you knew they were both shallow commitment-phobes because you joked about it. And now Gio turns out to have issues too. It’s like you’re drawn to emotionally unavailable men.’
I shove the milk back into the fridge and carry the mugs across to the coffee table. I don’t know whether to laugh or feel uneasy at the irony, because who could be more emotionally unavailable than a fake boyfriend? It’s an interesting theory, as well as mildly alarming since it suggests that Gio might be my type, but it’s not a ‘negative pattern’. I think I would know if I were exhibiting self-sabotaging behaviours. I’m a psychology student. I think, therefore I am … aren’t I?
‘I’ve just been having fun, that’s all. I’m not ready for commitment. And if there’s a pattern, maybe it’s that men our age are emotionally immature?’ I suggest, passing her Eeyore before sitting down on the floor with Piglet.
‘Thank you. No one’s disputing that. All I’m saying is that maybe breaking up with Gio is a good thing.’
‘Huh.’ I swallow a mouthful of tea. ‘You know, he came by the shop this afternoon to apologize.’
‘Gio?’ Ava pauses with her mug against her lips.
‘Yes. He asked for a chance to explain.’
‘And?’
‘I agreed to meet him on Thursday.’
‘So there’s a chance the two of you might get back together?’ Her eyes widen. ‘Maisie, I just don’t want you getting hurt. Listen to what he has to say, but be careful, will you?’ She pauses. ‘And maybe don’t say that I called him a dick. I mean, he might still be, but I also might want him back on the podcast … If that’s all right with you, of course.’
‘I won’t tell him, I promise.’ I laugh. ‘And don’t worry. I have absolutely no intention of getting hurt.’