Chapter 14
Considering the amount I had to drink last night, today’s hangover is milder than I expected it to be.
It still sucks, don’t get me wrong, but after drinking countless cocktails, working our way through the room service desserts, and singing along to the songs in Moulin Rouge while we watched it on the TV in our room, to be honest, I thought I’d have a stomach ache and a sore throat to go along with my headache.
Just the headache feels like I got off lightly.
I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Watching movies with JJ, eating, slagging off love and then crying like babies at the end of the movie, perving over a younger Ewan McGregor, agreeing Nicole Kidman is our girl-crush, and eating at least four different desserts – exactly what I needed.
It doesn’t solve my problems, sure, but it did give me a night where I could forget about them.
But now it’s morning.
It’s the feeling, like I’m on a boat, that makes me feel like I was counting my chickens when I said my stomach was fine, because boy do I feel sick all of a sudden. Then I realise I am moving. It’s JJ, she’s shaking me, trying to wake me up.
‘I’m awake, I’m awake,’ I insist. ‘My God, please, stop shaking me – unless you want to see that crème br?lée again.’
I open my eyes, grateful that the curtains are still closed so there’s no harsh sunlight to make me hiss, but then JJ holds her phone screen up in front of my face – brightness on full – to show me something. It instantly renders me temporarily sightless.
‘What? What is it?’ I ask.
‘You have to see this,’ she replies.
‘Then turn your brightness down,’ I reply, rubbing my eyes to try to get them to work. ‘What time is it?’
‘Time to explain to me why the entire internet thinks you’re engaged,’ she practically squeaks.
My eyes have no trouble snapping open now.
‘What?’ is all I can say – I think it does the job, though.
‘You’re engaged,’ she tells me.
‘I’d know if I were engaged,’ I reply. ‘To who?’
‘To the sexy cowboy you told me about last night,’ she replies.
‘Did I tell you I was engaged to him last night?’ I check, because I did have a lot to drink.
‘No, which is why I’m gagged to find out with the rest of the internet,’ she says.
I sit up straight – straighter than I’ve ever sat in my life, never mind in bed first thing in a morning.
She holds her phone up again, hitting play on a video, and the pieces start clicking into place.
At first it just looks like videos of the grounds here but then I see myself, soaking wet, the cowboy carrying me in his arms, getting down on one knee, seemingly putting a ring on my finger (although I know he was taking it off), me leaping into his arms (although I know that I fell) and then him taking me back to the hotel on his horse.
It looks like the most romantic fucking proposal I’ve ever seen. Except that’s not what it was.
‘So, first of all, you said he was hot, but he’s so much hotter,’ JJ points out.
I smile, seeing him again. The cowboy hat, the plaid shirt, the broad shoulders.
That ridiculously handsome face. With that epic jawline and dreamy accent, honestly, he’s like they guy they cast to play a cowboy in a porno, not a real one.
Willy the Kid. Butch Ass-idy. Wang-o. (Best I can do on short notice, when I’ve got other things on my mind.)
There are cheers, applause, somebody yelling ‘SAY YES!’ – which I did not hear at the time, but I had a lot of fountain water in my ears.
JJ whizzes it back again, pausing it on the money shot, the bit where he’s holding me in his arms. I’m gazing back at him like I fell in love right there and then.
A near-death experience and a sexy cowboy will do that to a girl.
‘I—’ I stop myself. ‘That is not—’
‘Obviously I can piece together what actually happened because you told me last night,’ JJ says. ‘But that’s not what everyone else thinks. And you’ve gone viral.’
I take the phone from her and look at the caption.
When you accidentally film a cowboy proposing to the one he loves #ProposalGoals #CowboyRomance #RosewoodLoveStory
And then I dare to look at the comments…
The comments are worse.
This is literally a romcom.
He carried her like she was a princess.
I’ve seen enough. Marry him.
Someone find them. I need the full story.
Why can’t this happen to me?
He is fit!
Cowboy romcom? I’m in!
I open my mouth to speak but I don’t know what to say.
‘Well, you might be speechless, but I’m not,’ JJ says.
‘I’m speechless because I’m going viral for falling into a fountain,’ I protest.
‘You didn’t go viral for falling in the fountain, you went viral for falling in love,’ she replies. ‘Well, sort of.’
‘Yeah, it’s not at all what it looks like – can you, I don’t know, do some agenting, set the record straight?’ I ask.
‘The internet only cares about what it looks like, not what it is,’ she corrects me. ‘But I’ll do some agenting alright, don’t worry about that.’
Oh, God, there’s a look in her eye. The kind I don’t usually like.
‘Whit,’ she says, voice suddenly very businesslike. ‘Don’t look at me like that. Listen to me. This is good.’
I laugh, a little hysterical.
‘This is humiliating,’ I insist. ‘Oh my God, do you think Andy has seen this?’
‘Forget about Andy for a second, think about you,’ she replies. ‘Publishers are going to gobble this up.’
‘Huh?’
‘Your book,’ she says, low-key annoyed I don’t seem to be getting it. ‘You are trying to sell a romantic comedy. And the universe just handed you the greatest marketing hook of all time.’
‘My marketing hook is being accidentally engaged?’ I check.
‘Almost,’ she replies. ‘Your marketing hook is living out a scene from a romcom. People will want to read your voice. They’ll want your story. They’ll want you – the girl who got a cowboy to propose to her.’
‘I don’t even know his name,’ I point out.
JJ waves a hand. ‘Minor obstacle,’ she replies. ‘We’ll make one up. It will get you the meetings, the deal and then, you know, you break up, blah blah blah, so sad, but more material for the next book.’
‘I don’t know if you’re a genius or psychopath,’ I reply.
‘I’m both,’ she replies. ‘And I’m very effective.’
‘Are you sure about this?’ I check. ‘Because the people who know me are going to see this and wonder why I don’t have an actual fiancé. I’m just lucky my family aren’t chronically online like us. They probably won’t see it, but what about Andy? Cordelia? I’m going to look pathetic.’
‘We can style it out as marketing or something,’ she insists. ‘Look, get dressed, we’ll grab breakfast, and we’ll talk about it. Just, hear me out? I’m saying all of this as your agent and your friend. You want a book deal, and I’m telling you that you need an in – the universe handed you one.’
‘Okay, I’ll hear you out over breakfast, but…’
‘That’s my girl,’ she replies, not waiting for me to reach the end of my sentence. ‘Get dressed.’
I do as I’m told, putting on the clean clothes JJ brought me – although regrettably she brought me her own clothes, and it’s way sexier than I would ever dress for breakfast… or at all.
JJ is ready too, looking fab as always, like she’s about to board a yacht in Monaco, not head downstairs for brekkie.
‘You can eat in skirts this tight?’ I ask as I yank the mini she’s lent me, hoping I can somehow make it longer.
‘To be honest, it’s not generally food I’m after when I wear that one, but it was the only spare outfit I had at the office with me,’ she says as we wait for the lift.
‘I really hope it was clean,’ I say with a sigh.
She just laughs.
The lift doors open and the first thing I notice is the cowboy hat. Then the smoking-hot man of my/JJ’s/everyone’s dreams underneath it.
I don’t want to sound like a perv – although I definitely will – but my eyes are drawn to his reflection in the mirror behind him, his jeans stretched tightly over his arse. He could – and should – advertise jeans. I’d buy them.
‘Mornin’,’ he says with a smile.
‘Good morning,’ JJ replies, her voice low and breathy as she steps into the lift.
‘Er, hi,’ is all I can manage. Everyone is sexy but me.
He smiles at me like he knows me.
‘So, you’re my fiancée, huh?’ he says as the doors close, locking me in with him.
Scratch that – he smiles at me like he knows what’s happened.
‘You dry out okay?’ he asks.
‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘My pride is still a little soggy though…’
He laughs. ‘Well, pride usually comes before the fall, so maybe it didn’t all take a dip with you,’ he jokes.
I’ve never seen anyone visibly swoon before, but JJ just did something that I’m going to assume is as close to one as a person can get.
She steps forward, tits then teeth (she likes to flash her best features first), offering him a hand to shake. ‘Hello, I’m JJ, I’m Whitney’s agent,’ she tells him.
‘Whitney?’ he checks.
‘Erm, I’m Whitney,’ I say kinda weakly from behind her.
‘You a singer?’ he asks. ‘An actress?’
The urge to blush and fan my face overwhelms me. I keep it together.
‘A writer,’ I reply.
‘Oh cool,’ he replies. ‘I’m Jake.’
Jake – even his name is sexy.
‘And what are you doing around these parts, Jake?’ JJ asks, vaguely attempting his accent.
Honestly, it’s not often you see JJ being anything but cool, but Jake has her acting like a dork.
‘Well, I’m here for business,’ he says. ‘Y’all heading for breakfast?’
‘We are,’ JJ says. ‘Why don’t you join us?’
‘JJ, he doesn’t want to join us,’ I insist.
‘No, I’d love to,’ Jake says. ‘It would be a pleasure.’
‘I’m sure it would,’ JJ replies.
Jake steps out of the lift first, walking a few paces ahead of us. JJ holds me back on purpose.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask her quietly.
‘I thought we could sound him out, see if he’s the kind of guy who might not mind us using our little viral mishap to our advantage,’ she replies.
‘Please do not refer to it as a viral mishap,’ I beg. ‘It sounds like one of us gave the other a disease.’