21. 21
Iwanted to talk to somebody about Callum’s proposition. Wanted to discuss and dissect it until I knew where I stood; until I could suss out my feelings and figure out what I wanted to do.
All of that was, of course, impossible.
Callum had taken a risk getting me alone, away from cameras and microphones that caught our every word. Regardless of how weird our history had been so far, I respected the lengths he went to suggest his idea to me.
So instead of talking about it, I silently stewed all day: during the morning catch up with the girls; while I was making lunch in the kitchen with Hugh and Olivia; as I floated in the pool on a raft; the entire time I was getting ready for the evening.
I thought about it.
And thought about it.
And thought about it some more.
I must have been obviously distracted because as I sat finishing my makeup before the cocktail party, Chiara leaned over from the vanity next to mine.
“You okay?” she said softly to keep the conversation between us. Well, between us and the dozens of producers watching and undoubtedly trying to pick up on what was wrong with me so they could craft it into some kind of storyline.
“Yeah,” I said back, smiling at the concern on her face. “Just tired today. I didn’t sleep well.”
“I’d also be knackered if my pillow was inches away from Callum. The boy is smoking,” Chiara said. She wiggled her eyebrows at me suggestively.
“I guess,” I said.
“You guess? Oh please, you and him were totally making crazy eye contact today,” she said back.
We were? It had felt like I kept catching his eye. Like everywhere I turned, there he was. I chalked it up to his proposition playing like a loop in my mind. I had been thinking about it so much—of course it felt like he was everywhere.
Had it come across as something else to the rest of the villa?
Belatedly, I wondered what James thought about it.
Confusion must have been written all over my face, because Chiara leaned in even closer.
“Seriously, is everything okay?” she asked.
I let out a sigh. I could at least tell her part of the truth. I did desperately need someone to talk to about it. “I’m just a bit confused,” I said. “Callum is just . . . ” I trailed off.
What was Callum? That seemed to be the million-dollar question.
“I just don’t know!” I continued. “Callum is Callum. And then there’s James, who I have no idea what to think of. We had a great first date, but it’s been sort of strained since. I just don’t know what to think about anything anymore.”
I leaned back in my vanity chair, exhausted before the night had even started.
“Oh, babes,” Chiara said, squeezing my hand. “Just keep getting to know them. Both of them! I don’t know what James’ vibe is yet, but I definitely know that Callum is into you. He’s barely talked to anyone else.”
That I knew to be factually untrue. Still, something in her reassurance made me feel better. At least she couldn’t figure out James either.
“Thanks, Chi,” I said, squeezing her hand back.
Our moment was interrupted by a producer calling us to head outside. Taking one last glance at myself in the mirror, I decided all I needed was more time.
I would use the night to talk to James. I needed to see if our initial spark was a passing thing or if it really was the possibility for more.
If it turned out that we got on well and had a good connection, he could be a real option.
I knew that even if I went along with Callum’s plan, there was no guarantee it would work.
In that case, I would much rather be with someone I liked than in a strained situation with Callum.
It could all be as simple as that: Talk with James and go from there.
Feeling better now that I had a game plan, I followed the rest of the girls out into the hallway. As we waited to be let into the garden, I leaned against the wall and let out a deep breath, steeling myself for the night ahead.
I can do this.
I could figure out how I was feeling.
I just needed a little bit more time.