The Meet Cute Method, page 13
‘We always work on holiday, you know that,’ a man’s voice says.
A couple walk in through the open bifold doors. The man has to be Max’s brother because he looks just like him, only somehow like a far more serious version. The woman on his arm, bizarrely, is a similar type to me, but I’m probably a Poundshop version of her. Her blonde hair is brighter, her cheeks are chiselled, and she’s much smaller than me. I imagine, if I were to go to a cosmetic surgeon, this is how they would propose making me look, not that they could physically make me about half a foot shorter, and not that I would ever even consider changing the way I looked at the suggestion of someone who said they could make me perfect.
‘Here he is,’ Eva says as she jumps to her feet. ‘And my darling daughter-in-law, hello.’
They both get two kisses. Kissing is clearly very much a thing in this family.
‘Frankie, sweetheart, this is my youngest, Kingsley, and his wife, Paige,’ Eva tells me.
‘Lovely to meet you both,’ I tell them.
‘Call me Lee,’ he insists with a smile. He pats Max on the back. ‘Hello, bro.’
‘Hi,’ Paige says as she sits down opposite me. She has an East Coast American accent and, I don’t know what it is, but I feel like she hates me already and, sure, there are plenty of reasons to hate me, but none that Paige could possibly know of yet.
‘So, this is the missus?’ Lee asks Max.
‘Yeah, this is Frankie,’ he replies.
I only hold Lee’s attention for a moment.
‘Dad, I hate to do this to you, but I’ve got Kidman on hold in my suite,’ Lee tells him.
‘Can’t it wait?’ Ronnie asks, gesturing at his lunch.
‘Not with the time difference,’ Lee replies. ‘And Mum, I spotted Uncle Albert in the lobby, I’m guessing he just sailed in. Looked like he was more concerned with finding a drink than checking in.’
‘Well, that’s brothers for you,’ Eva says with a smile. ‘I suppose, if the boys are going for a meeting, I should go and welcome him.’
‘So, we’re abandoning lunch?’ Max confirms. It isn’t quite in disbelief, it’s more like he disapproves.
‘There will be plenty of time for lunches,’ Eva reminds him. ‘I’ll send someone in to clear it out. Unless, by all means, if you, Frankie and Paige want to help yourselves, be my guest.’
‘I think I’ll come with you,’ Paige says quickly. ‘I need to stretch my legs.’
‘Of course,’ Eva says with a knowing smile – God, I hate that it feels like everyone knows something I don’t.
Ronnie and Lee leave the room out of the bifold doors while Eva and Paige leave via the main door. Then it’s just me, Max, and enough food to feed about thirty people.
‘Erm…’ I say before I just laugh.
‘Yep, welcome to my family,’ Max replies. ‘You might as well tuck in. They really will have all this food thrown away, and then probably prepared again in about forty-five minutes when they realise they’re still hungry.’
He doesn’t sound impressed by their antics.
‘Your mum and dad seem really nice,’ I tell him. ‘Lee too.’
‘Yeah, they’re all right,’ Max replies as he loads up his plate. ‘I suppose, in the interest of honesty, I should fill you in on my situation with Lee.’
I raise my eyebrows expectantly. I could tell things were oddly cold between them.
‘We were both working for the company,’ he tells me. ‘Paige is an executive assistant now but, back then, she was just my girlfriend. I got her the job at the company, which was probably my first mistake. We broke up and at first I thought perhaps she had just used me to get the job, but then she ended up with Lee really soon after the split. I always suspected some, shall we say, overlap. Anyway, I didn’t want to be around them, so I quit the company and moved back to London, and they’re married now, so all is well that ends well.’
Suddenly it all makes sense. Oh my God, I can’t believe she was with Max before she was with Lee. That’s got to be an awkward Christmas dinner.
‘Is that why you didn’t want to turn up single?’ I ask him.
‘That is why I didn’t want to turn up single or alone,’ he replies. ‘I’m over it, it’s not like I still have feelings for her, and I was the best man at their wedding, so…’
Max laughs to himself for a second.
‘Yes, I’m aware how tragic this all makes me look,’ he says.
‘It doesn’t make you look tragic,’ I insist honestly.
It does make me feel incredibly sorry for him, though. Imagine getting dumped by someone who then goes on to marry your sibling, and having to be around them all the time. Absolutely brutal.
Max shrugs.
‘Well, I’m not actively involved in the company any more,’ he says, shuffling in his seat. ‘And I’m usually thousands of miles from them, so it’s not a problem.’
The idea of Addison wanting me to strip this poor man’s private life for parts, to use in my article, showing the lengths men will go to, well, that didn’t exactly sit right with me before, but now it definitely doesn’t. I can’t do that to Max, not after everything he’s been through. I’ll just have to get back on with the meet cutes and try and salvage the original idea. If I can do a good job with it then maybe that will be good enough for Addison and I won’t have to throw Max under the bus. I won’t tell her any of this. I’ll say I was mistaken or that it was a prank or something. Anyway, perhaps I’ll have more luck with the meet cutes on holiday. I’ve seen enough destination romcoms. Perhaps this is the key to making it work.
It has to be.
21
With a moment to myself, finally, I’m walking around the resort, taking it all in. Not just the scenery and the facilities, but also scoping out potential meet cutes. I can’t stop thinking about Max, and how unlucky in love he has been. I’m unlucky in love, but in a different way, because I can’t ever find any. I thought I did, once, and he cheated on me, so I understand how that feels, how much it hurts every inch of your body. Since then, I struggle to get so much as a second date. Max, on the other hand, just seems to keep getting his heart broken. It’s amazing he even gives love another go.
Don’t think this is me going soft, because it isn’t. I am so mad at Max for getting me here like this, for throwing me in at the deep end, giving me no time to even prep, and for landing me with the responsibility of not only pretending I’m in a relationship with him but that I’m a bloody spinal surgeon! This has certainly taken the shine off Max for me, the googly eyes have been knocked clean off my face.
The sun here is glorious. I’d stay outside all day if I could. After making my way through the gardens, where the grass is so perfect it almost looks like carpet, past one of the enormous fountains which, frankly, I kind of want to crawl into just to feel the cool water on my warm skin, I happen upon one of the pool areas that is surrounded by cabanas. They’re big enough for two but I, as always, am just me on my own. I plonk myself down, only to realise there is some kind of lizard sitting next to me. Okay, that I’m used to. It quickly scurries off when it notices me lie down next to it. I’m used to that too. This pool has a really natural look to it. It’s an irregular shape with large, real rocks along the edges and through the centre, forming barriers that section off different parts of the pool. Everything here looks perfect. Even as I look out to sea, and see the formation of the clouds sitting on top of the horizon, piled up like mountains, it looks so good it appears almost fake.
Wait, that might be another island I can see in the distance. Wow. I’ve never seen another island, with my own eyes, from the one I was standing on. Not unless Hope Island in Yorkshire counts, but even then the causeway was open, so it didn’t even look like an island. I’m not sure tidal islands count. I pull myself back up, deciding to walk down to the beach for a closer look. I follow a narrow, winding stone path lined with neat little hedges, until I reach a sign warning me that I am technically leaving resort property and entering a public beach with strong waves and tides. I don’t know why but the idea of leaving the resort, even if it’s just by stepping over an invisible line, both appeals to me and terrifies me. It’s scary because it makes me think I’m out on my own in a country I’ve never visited before, but it does feel like a good place to get a breather from the mess I’ve landed myself in.
As beaches go, this is definitely the kind you see on the postcards. Stunning golden sands, beautiful blue waters, and sunshine that you just don’t get back home in the UK. The water is close, leaving quite a small sandy area, but it isn’t too busy down here. I slip off my sandals and take my first steps onto the sand. You can’t beat that feeling, can you? Warm, silky-smooth sand between your toes, the kind that doesn’t stick to your skin, it just falls away. I dig my toes into the ground, burying my feet a little, before pulling them back out again. Heavenly. This time yesterday, I was in the office, and look at me now. I told Max that I wouldn’t be long, that I would meet him by the pool after I got some fresh air. He explained to me that, after travelling from the UK to Hawaii, you can pretty much write off your first day as your body adjusts to the new time zone.
I do feel quite tired, so I’m going to head back to the suite and try to sleep. Hopefully, if I can wake up at a good time, my body will adjust. I’m hoping everything will feel better in the morning. I certainly can’t wait to see more of the resort, and even the island, if I’m allowed to leave. I’m hoping that fiancée duties are light. I still can’t believe I agreed to it.
I grab my sandals before I make my way back towards the resort, this time heading up the steps instead of walking back up the winding path. You would think this route would be better but, as I take a step up, I catch a toe on it, clipping the step and losing my footing. It feels like I’m falling for ages, as though it’s happening in slow motion, as I wildly flap my arms in an attempt to grab something. My flapping only sends me sideways, into the bushes that run alongside the steps, and I feel myself make contact, but it’s so light, as though there’s a force pulling me back to my feet. I suddenly feel more present, now that the fall is over, but it’s only over because someone has saved me. A man has grabbed me by the belt of my sundress and now he’s got me almost suspended in the air. Once he has control of the situation, he pulls me up, taking my hand as he helps me back to my feet.
‘Thank you,’ I say breathlessly. ‘Oh my God, that was so embarrassing. I hope no one else saw.’
‘I hope they did,’ he replies through a laugh. ‘I don’t think I could do that again if I tried.’
‘That was, honestly, I don’t even know, amazing, I don’t know how you managed to save me,’ I babble. ‘Sorry, I still feel a bit shaken up. I don’t think jet lag suits me.’
‘You get used to it,’ he says with a shrug.
Now that I’ve got my wits about me a little more, it suddenly occurs to me that the man is English. He’s probably around my age, tall, with golden-blonde hair, and blue eyes, and a neat beard that is so short I think it’s technically stubble. It looks intentional, though. Like it’s all part of the look.
‘Ah, well, I am not used to it,’ I confess.
‘I hate to break it to you, but it’s worse on the way home,’ he tells me. ‘Flying east shortens the days.’
‘Well, London is notoriously flat,’ I reply. ‘So hopefully there won’t be any steps for me to fall up before I recover.’
‘I’m from London too,’ he says, smiling to have found someone from home. ‘Kensington. Where are you?’
I manage to find a way to scoff inside my head. Christ, not bloody Kensington. This resort is definitely too fancy for the likes of me because everyone here is clearly so very rich.
‘Soho,’ I lie. Well, sort of. I work there and I do want to live there. I’m trying to live there. To some well-to-do types, supposedly anything south of the river is wasteland.
‘Oh, nice,’ he replies. ‘I love the vibe in Soho. Though, I must admit, I don’t know it as well as other areas. I need someone who knows the place inside and out to show me the sights.’
‘I could show you the sights,’ I joke. ‘For a hero like you, who saved me from injuring myself on the first day of the first holiday I’ve had in years, I’d show you… anything.’
I don’t know where I was going with that sentence, or why I thought ‘anything’ was the right word to end it on. I think I was trying for a joke. Instead, it’s come across like a proposition. Why do I always lose my cool around people when I feel attracted to them?
Still, the man seems charmed by it.
‘You show me yours, I’ll show you mine,’ he replies through a cheeky smile. ‘There are places in Kensington you only get to know when you live there for a while. I could show you a good time.’
‘Well, they do say blondes have more fun,’ I point out, nodding towards his hair.
‘They do indeed,’ he replies. ‘I’ve been here a few times now. Perhaps I can show you the sights here? Tomorrow, of course, when I won’t need to carry you.’
‘That would be lovely,’ I reply with a smile.
‘I’ll be hanging around the bar, just up there, at midday,’ he tells me. ‘If you fancy a drink, you should drop by.’
‘I’ll do that, thank you,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’m Frankie, by the way.’
‘Albi,’ he replies. ‘Nice to meet you, Frankie.’
I go to pick up my sandals and realise there’s only one there. Shit, where is the other one? I guess it is possible for a grown woman to lose just one shoe.
Albi realises I’m looking for my other sandal, given that I’ve only got one in my hand.
‘It’s in the bushes,’ he says, spotting it behind me. ‘I’ll reach it for you.’
He leans forward and grabs it.
‘Here you are.’
‘Thanks,’ I reply.
‘I’ll walk you back up the steps, make sure you get there safely,’ he tells me with a smile.
‘Thank you. Well, I’d better go, try and get some sleep,’ I say once we reach the top. ‘Or I’ll be sleeping through our date tomorrow.’
The word catches on my tongue. Date. Why the fuck did I say date?
‘Not date as in date-date,’ I babble. ‘A date like a diary date. Like a date with a thing. Uh…’
I just said date far too many times.
Luckily, he laughs.
‘I know what you mean,’ he insists. ‘See you tomorrow for the non-date-date diary date.’
I’ve always loved it when men tease me, which is fortunate, because I say the wrong fucking thing all the time.
‘See you then,’ I tell him.
Albi heads back down the steps, towards the beach, which I suppose is where he was originally headed. Wow, was that an actual meet cute? One that I didn’t do on purpose, that actually went well? Incredible. As I turn around, I’m confronted with Max and he does not look happy. My own smile falls.
‘What are you doing talking to him?’ he asks me, a little on the angry side.
‘Erm, talking,’ I say, obviously. ‘Actually, I fell, and he caught me.’
Max eyeballs Albi as he’s walking away. Honestly, he looks like he hates him.
‘You do know we’re not really engaged, and I can talk to who I want, right?’ I remind him. ‘What’s the problem, do you know the man or something?’
‘He’s my uncle,’ Max tells me simply.
I laugh. Then I realise he isn’t kidding.
‘What?’ I squeak. ‘Albi isn’t your uncle. He’s, like, the same age as you.’
‘Actually, he’s three months younger,’ Max replies, like it’s the most usual thing in the world.
‘Your uncle is three months younger than you?’ I repeat back to him, because I must be misunderstanding the situation.
‘Yep,’ he replies. ‘My gran was pretty young when she had my dad and then, I suppose, quite a bit older when she had Albi, so she was pregnant at the same time as my mum. I really don’t like to think about the ins and outs of it. And I’m dying inside because I said “ins and outs of it” so can we not talk about it, please?’
‘That’s absolutely incredible,’ I tell him. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine having an auntie or an uncle my age. Or a pregnant grandma! So, when Lee mentioned Uncle Albert…’
‘Yes, that’s Albi,’ he replies. ‘We call him Uncle Albert because, well, Albert is his name. He always turns up to these things on a yacht, and pretends he sailed here himself, when the truth is that he lands in Honolulu and has staff sail him the rest of the way. It’s sort of an Only Fools and Horses reference. Look, can we not talk about it, please? Albi is a bit of a dick, I don’t get on with him at all.’
‘Okay, fine, sure,’ I reply. ‘Let’s head back to the suite. I’m definitely ready for bed now I’ve filled my lungs with sea air.’
It’s probably for the best that I don’t tell Max about the plans I just made with Albi. To be honest, given what I’m here to do, it’s probably for the best that I don’t go at all. It isn’t exactly a good look, being here as Max’s fiancée, and then flirting up a storm with his fit uncle. God, that sounds weird.
As we head back in the direction of the suite, my legs still feel a little like jelly, but it’s reassuring knowing there’s someone around to catch me, even if I do absolutely need to stay away from him. I’m going to land myself in big trouble if I don’t.
22
I am up and at ’em, out and about, feeling fresh, ready for the first proper day of my holiday and, most importantly of all, ready to work.
My day didn’t get off to the best start. When Addison said they were going to pack me a case full of swag to enjoy while I was here, perhaps stupidly, I only saw the positives. Free clothes, cosmetics and toiletries – and all high end too – what’s not to love? What I didn’t consider was that, when this selection of holiday supplies was being prepared for me, it wasn’t done by someone who had me in mind. I thought yesterday’s sundress was just something flowery and floaty that Addison thought I should wear on the plane, to look like I was in full holiday mode, but given the fact that Cora once described my style as ‘a fourteen-year-old at a house party while her parents were out of town’ (which I took to mean I wore whatever I wanted but also things that would make parents of daughters panic), flowery and floaty isn’t exactly my bag. Unfortunately, this entire bag isn’t my bag. It’s more befitting of a spinal surgeon, so that’s a stroke of luck, but it isn’t just not right for my taste, it isn’t right for my body either. It’s all my size, that’s what the tags say, but some of it is just a serious no-no.
