Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
S ydney airport is crowded, and I’m nervously standing in the middle of the lounge waiting to board. Thanks to Ruby, I’m looking out for Mr Plus One, otherwise known on his passport as Thomas.
Except I have no idea what Thomas looks like. My stomach flips.
A glance out of the airport window shows blackness, cold, winter. I know if I cancelled now and stayed in Sydney with Adam, I’d be freezing in my little flat, and I’d never hear the end of it from my family.
God, this is actually happening. I’m going to this wedding with a blind date . I remember the phone conversation with Ruby, and I feel a little worried.
It started off so well.
‘He likes books. Actually he loves them,’ Ruby garbled excitedly. ‘He was a last-minute contender, really last-minute. I was thinking Craig would be perfect, but Craig couldn’t get time off, and I was beside myself thinking I was going to let you down. But I consulted the cards, and they said Ace of Cups and King of Pentacles!’
‘I have no idea what that means,’ I said, bewildered.
‘Ace of Cups is the start of something new emotionally, and King of Pentacles means someone who is established with work and money!’
My heart started to beat a little faster. ‘Okay, so what does he do for work?’
Ruby ignored me. ‘So he is very, very cute. Bonus points. I asked if he owned a pair of flip-flops, which he thought was a strange thing to ask. But he does. And dress shoes.’
That was a great reaction, I like that he thought it a strange request; it shows this guy is somewhat normal. Except for the fact that he’s agreed to travel to Tuscany with an absolute stranger.
‘Do you know this guy well?’ I said, slight trepidation leaking into my voice. ‘He’s not an axe murderer? He’s not going to roofie my drink? He hasn’t been arrested or spent time in jail, right? He won’t be attempting to smuggle drugs on board by shoving them up his back passage?’ It was starting to dawn on me just how bad this could go. Really bad. Really fucking bad.
‘Hmmmm,’ Ruby teased. ‘No. I asked him that, and he told me there were absolutely no drugs or axes in his apartment. It’s a penthouse apartment, I may add.’
I narrowed my eyes. ‘Have you been there? Is this an ex?’
Ruby exclaimed, ‘Not at all, I’ve never gotten close to this man on that level. In fact, he remained rather mysterious about his previous girlfriends, although he did mention he does know a few models.’
I sighed. ‘He sounds like a douche.’
‘Well, yes,’ Ruby admitted, ‘I can see how you could say that, but I think he has a lot of things going for him. And remember, he likes books – loves them. In fact, he’s in the business.’
‘He is?’ My heart stopped for a second. ‘God, it’s not one of our authors, is it?’ I would literally die of embarrassment if they thought have-it-all-together-Gemma was suddenly desperate for a date.
‘Noooo,’ Ruby said in a weird, drawn-out way.
‘Do I know him?’ I tried to go back over everyone that I know in the book world. Is it Tim from Hawkings Publishers? He’s in his fifties, but looks great, still plays tennis, is a bachelor, has a large ego, and I could see him wining and dining supermodels. Not Tom, but maybe Ruby had been mistaken, swapping an i for an o?
Ruby gave a little laugh and ignored my question. ‘I want you to know he’s already taken the time off. He seemed pretty excited by a holiday in Italy, said he needed to do some work over there at the same time. Oh and he bought his own plane ticket too, so we didn’t even need to use your points! So it’s kinda a no-going-back thing.’
I narrowed my eyes once again. ‘Ruby, who is it?’
Ruby refused to give any more away, but told me to trust in the universe, and that her cards are never wrong.
So now, standing in the business class lounge (thank you, points), I have no idea who I’m looking for, or who is looking for me.
And I’m frustrated at Adam because he’s not coming, and I don’t want to have to pretend to be all loved up with a stranger. The tension must have been simmering between us because we got into a heated discussion last night. Well, I got angry, and he got silent. And he wasn’t thrilled. Told me to take some time out, which clearly I am because I’m going to Italy, with a stranger. And I’m really starting to question my decisions of the last few weeks because they’ve led me to meeting a strange man and pretending to be in love.
Thomas . I’ve quickly gone through the list of all the authors, publishers, literary agents I know, and no one I could think of is called Thomas or Tom.
A middle-aged man in too tight jeans and a rugby shirt, slightly rotund, with dark short hair – perhaps handsome if I squinted or got really drunk – walks past me slowly. Does he look familiar? I’m about to say quietly, Thomas ? but he joins a woman with long blonde hair on the white couch and they look cosy.
I look at my watch to find it’s just after 7am. It’s getting close to boarding time now, but we’ve planned to meet in the business class lounge, rather than at the gate. I hear the flight announcement to prepare for boarding so I bend over to pick up my bags, and check my phone again. No calls.
‘Gemma,’ a voice from behind me says. I prepare myself to say hello to my faux escort. I take a quick breath, then turn around, a large smile on my face…
Which drops immediately.
In front of me, dear God, is the last person I want to see while waiting for a blind date.
‘Fancy bumping into you here.’
‘Weasel,’ I hiss without thinking. ‘What are you doing here?’
He laughs. ‘Is that what you call me? Oh Gemma, you can come up with something better than that, can’t you? Aren’t you meant to be a word wrangler?’
I’ll wrangle you in a second. ‘What are you doing here?’ I want to inch away from him, so he doesn’t see me meet my blind date in the middle of an airport.
‘I’m going on holiday. Now I’m chief editor, I can kinda go where and do what I want.’
‘Nice,’ I mutter, taking a step back and looking over his shoulder for Thomas.
‘Yes, it is rather. Well, I hope it is,’ Weasel is saying.
‘So, where are you going?’ Please don’t say Italy, please don’t.
‘Actually, you should be asking me with who.’
‘Actually, it’s with whom,’ I smugly point out, not giving a shit who he is going to meet or where he’s going, as long as it isn’t on my plane. I need at least one hundred miles between me and Weasel at all times.
‘Are you asking me then, with whom ?’
‘Cut to the chase, McDonald. Spit it out. With whom are you going?’ He’s going to name drop someone, I just know it, some D-lister, I bet. Someone with big boobs. Or a Lolita type. Yes, I can absolutely see him with some nineteen-year-old. Or some new fancy author he wants to sign. Probably both.
Just then an announcement comes over the loudspeaker ‘Qantas flight QF323 to Hong Kong has now finished boarding. Looking for two passengers. Gemma Evans and Thomas McDonald, please come to the gate immediately.’
My brain takes a second. Thomas McDonald. As in Ben McDonald. It couldn’t be … could it? My plus one.
OH. MY. GOD.
My stomach clenches. My legs feel shaky. My mouth drops open. I can’t seem to catch my breath. I close my eyes. My jumper feels tight around my neck, I can’t swallow.
When I open my eyes, he smirked. ‘Oh, Gemma, are you only figuring this out now?’
Thomas Ben McDonald. It’s the third very bad thing.