Chapter 12
Being stuck in a basket with an ex that she wanted to pulverise, trying to pretend her name hadn’t been Beryl and that she’d never seen his manhood.
This was not how Alyssa had imagined her day panning out.
On the plus side, there was no way the app was going to make anyone fall in love like this.
People were better off with a love coach.
As the hot air balloon ascended, Alyssa clung to the cable, trying to practise her deep please don’t let me die breathing at the same time as smiling to the cameras below, acutely aware it was impossible to look good when people could see up your nostrils.
At least she had a scarf to disguise the possibility of a second chin.
Worst-case scenario, she could use it to strangle someone.
She didn’t even have a spare hand to distract herself with something mindless on her phone. This was excruciating.
‘Are you OK, B— … Alyssa?’
It was Devan’s voice, dangerously close to her ear.
She tried to shuffle away, but there wasn’t much shuffling room, and she bumped into Teijo who was on her other side with a camera around his neck, ready to record ‘anything intriguing’ to release to the press and spread across social media.
Behind her was their pilot, who was large enough to take up extra space and wore a pilot-style uniform with Mr Hot stitched across the jacket pocket. It did not suit him.
Alyssa couldn’t help thinking about rub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub. Falling out of a rotten potato would be just about her luck right then. Rufus had, of course, opted to keep his distance, though was probably now schmoozing. He’d be for the high jump later.
‘Not really,’ Alyssa hissed, in answer to Devan’s question, as hot flames exploded above her and the safety of solid ground got further from her feet. ‘I don’t like heights, as your troublemaking love app knows.’
She wanted to add, ‘And as YOU well know, you bloody dickweed.’ She was also bursting to ask if he’d called his stupid piece of software ’Appy Together, after their song – the one that had been playing when they’d had their first kiss – and then dragged her back to Hartglove to humiliate her with things she hated.
Seven times over. And if so, why? What on earth had she done to deserve this?
Wasn’t he married now? Not that he was wearing a ring, she’d accidentally noticed.
But saying any of that would involve admitting in front of Teijo that Devan had once dated her as gullible Beryl.
‘I had no idea,’ said Devan, blinking innocently behind the geek glasses that might have looked sexy on anyone else.
She tried to cling on to her smile until the camera lenses on the ground were out of sight.
She was coming to wonder if holding on to the pretence she hadn’t grown up here was unsustainable – with people already sussing her out.
But her morning had been enough of an emotional whirlwind.
Her online persona was a mask that protected her, and she wasn’t ready to let that drop.
Not by a long shot. For now, she had to style this out.
‘So is there any truth in the suggestions that you two once knew each other?’ Teijo asked, pulling a pencil from behind his ear and a small notebook from his trouser pocket.
Why was no one else gripping onto this basket like their life depended on it? Alyssa had never felt so dizzy.
‘No,’ she said quickly, before closing her mouth for fear she might vomit. She glared at Devan in case he dared to contradict her.
‘Hmm,’ Teijo replied, like he wasn’t sure what to believe. ‘Anyway, according to your answers in the initial ’Appy Together questionnaire, Miss Heart, “Fears can be conquered. It’s mind over matter.” Wise words.’
Damn that stupid questionnaire, which had been as long as War and Peace, and twice as rambling. Goodness knew what else she’d written or what mess it might get her into.
‘Mind over matter,’ she said to the toes of her boots. ‘Exactly.’ She only wished she believed it.
Their barrel-shaped pilot, Mr Hot, moved to point something out and the basket wobbled.
Alyssa stumbled, grabbing onto Teijo’s strong arm.
The soft navy wool of his double-breasted coat felt like a small comfort beneath her fingers.
She did like a man in a nice coat. Maybe he would be a better distraction.
Devan cleared his throat. Teijo nodded towards him as though Alyssa should be holding on to her BUM. Well, that was never going to happen. She went back to clutching the side of the basket, her knuckles white.
‘How do you think ’Appy Together is doing so far?’ Devan asked her. ‘Is it going up in your estimations?’
Teijo had his pencil at the ready, which was so old-school that it was cute. But this was no time to assess anyone’s implements. If she sucked up her nerves and got this right, she could get one over on sneaky Devan’s lechy love app.
‘My estimations are plummeting, if that’s even possible. I mean, how is this even a love task? Bobbing around in a basket is hardly going to make anyone fall in love – unless you’re just going for the falling part? What will it dream up next? Wrestling with bobcats?’
She heard Devan’s soft chuckle. He could stuff his attempts at being jolly.
‘The app decides each task, based on our responses to the previous one.’
‘You can put this one down as …’ she stopped herself short of utterly shit ‘… not my first choice of the ultimate day out.’
‘Mind over matter,’ Devan replied, in a reassuring voice. He’d be saying there, there and stroking her head, if she didn’t watch out. ‘Don’t you think ’Appy Together has chosen the perfect way for us to enjoy quality time, away from everything? Isn’t that important for any relationship?’
Like he was so big on how relationships were meant to work. They absolutely weren’t meant to involve impregnating your girlfriend’s best mate. She hoped her eyeball glare said at least some of that.
‘I don’t see how the average matched couple would afford such a lavish first meeting,’ she countered.
‘Obviously, we have extra funding for our tasks, as this is part of a promotional campaign. The app’s users can choose their budget, as they’d be paying for their own tasks.’
‘Then how can this be a fair test, if you’re throwing extra money at it? Not to mention your vested interest in making our match a success – so that your love app soars.’
‘My question about quality time?’
Were his eyes actually twinkling?
‘Quality time in a cramped wicker box, with Mr Hot the pilot trying to flame-grill my scalp, and a journalist as a note-taking chaperone?’ Alyssa delivered her words with a smile, hoping she seemed witty, in control, professional …
‘Oh, you’d prefer it to be just you and me?’ Devan asked.
‘In your dreams.’ Oh God. Why had she said the D word? Thoughts of The Single Dream flew into her mind. Bare skin. Tight boxers. Nipples. She did not need visions of his areolas.
Why was Teijo fanning her face?
‘I’m fine.’ She politely batted him away.
‘What would a professional love coach have recommended for quality time?’ Teijo asked, pencil poised.
‘Something more grounded,’ said Alyssa. ‘The algorithm has got this all wrong. Two people need to feel comfortable, when they’re first starting out. Not completely thrown off course.’
‘Think we’re going the wrong way,’ said Mr Hot, scratching his head.
She could have kissed him for his timing.
‘Interesting,’ said Devan. ‘But don’t you think it’s easy to get on when everything is plain sailing? Surely, how people react under stress shows you the true measure of them.’
Urgh. It was irksome when people came out with the sort of stuff a coach was meant to say, when that was clearly her job. So when Teijo was busy checking wind direction with the pilot, Alyssa delivered her discreet low blow.
‘Maybe the true measure of you is how you behave when your wife’s not looking.’
Devan swiftly put an arm around her shoulder and angled her away from the others. She would have elbowed him, if she wasn’t quite so terrified of rocking the basket. ‘I don’t want Sylvie and Emmalina brought into this.’
So he wasn’t denying anything? She waited for him to say they were separated or divorced or that Sylvie had run off with a fit rugby player with nice legs – but nothing.
She could only assume his family were still in the picture.
Well, perfect. Perhaps all of this was a publicity stunt for him too.
He wanted to promote his app, and she wanted to reignite her career.
‘If you don’t mention the name Beryl, then I won’t mention Sylvie,’ she replied.
She looked at him, his face maddeningly close, his breath warm against her cheeks.
Could she smell a hint of amber on his skin?
He should grow up and change his aftershave.
She’d pull away in a second, when she’d given him enough of a mean stare.
‘Anyway, don’t you think it’s weird that you’ve created a love app and then put your name down to be matched? ’
‘Why wouldn’t I test-run my own product?’
She huffed. That was probably a thing. Although now she came to think of it …
‘Hang on. If you’re behind ’Appy Together, and by some huge coincidence you’re my match – you’re essentially paying me to date you? Aren’t there laws against this?’ she hissed.
But Devan was simply smiling, like she was taking it all far too seriously. ‘So now we’re dating?’ He whistled. ‘You move fast.’
‘You’re a prize fricking idiot. We will never be dating. This is all just business.’
She kept her voice low, although Teijo was now busy taking photos of them dangerously close. She shook Devan off, and he looked at her in a way she couldn’t make out, other than it was sort of sad.
‘Just business,’ he repeated. ‘One task nearly down, six to go.’
If they’d been keeping a scoreboard, she’d say she was up one nil – publicly, at least. She’d been shocked, ambushed and dragged headfirst into her worst fears, but she was still standing.
And she’d never been further from falling in love, even at 3,000 feet.
If anything, she and her BUM were Crappy Together – and she only had six more tormenting tasks to crawl through to prove her point that the whole thing was ludicrous.
Which she absolutely would.