You Had Me at Chateau, page 21
‘Amber?’ I hear my dad’s voice call out.
I freeze on the spot. I imagined that, right? My dad isn’t here, he can’t be, and even if he were, how would he get in the chalet?
‘Amber,’ he calls out again.
Right, that’s definitely my dad’s voice.
I grab my glasses from where I set them down on the table, next to my laptop, and pop them on my face – face mask be damned – and that’s when I notice my dad’s face on my laptop screen. Oh, shit. He’s right there, in real time, looking bewildered, and I am just gawping back at him.
Panic mode: activated. I bolt from the living room, sprinting to the bedroom, and then into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. What just happened? I try to piece it together, my heart racing. My laptop must have heard something that sounded like a request to FaceTime my dad, I’m guessing, because there he was. Oh God, there he was. And there I was, in full view of the camera, posing for photos in my underwear.
I wipe off the green face mask, hoping the redness on my face is from some kind of reaction to it, but no, it’s sheer embarrassment.
I can hear voices in the other room – my dad and Caleb chatting. Oh, why are they still chatting? Great, just great.
I lean against the bathroom door, debating my next move. I can’t stay in here forever, can I? Can I? No, I can’t.
Eventually, with a deep breath, I put my top back on – a real top – and reluctantly head back out into the living room.
As I approach the dining area, I see Caleb and my dad deep in conversation. Caleb spots me and grins, then turns to the screen. ‘Ah, Johnny, here she is.’
I approach the laptop cautiously, like I’m a teenager again, and like my dad has the power to reach through the screen, grab me, drag me home, and ground me for catching me with a boy.
‘Hi, Dad,’ I say, trying to sound casual, like this isn’t the most embarrassing moment of my life – and, believe me, there are some other strong contenders this week alone.
Dad looks… happy? That’s odd. I’m not sure I’ve seen my dad look happy since, I don’t know, the nineties.
‘Amber, Caleb explained everything. I get it – good work if you can get it,’ Dad tells me.
I laugh awkwardly.
‘Erm, thanks, Dad. Are you okay?’ I ask.
‘Yes, I’m fine. Just checking in,’ he says. ‘Nice to meet you, Caleb. Thanks for the chat.’
‘Nice to meet you too, Johnny,’ he tells him. ‘Anytime.’
After a bit more small talk between the three of us, we end the call.
Caleb turns to me, still smiling.
‘Your dad is great,’ he tells me.
‘Is he?’ I reply, almost suspiciously. ‘I feel like the two of you were talking for ages, while I was dying of shame in the bathroom. Historically, the longer people chat with my dad, the less likely they are to refer to him as great…’
Caleb just laughs this off.
‘We were just chatting,’ he tells me again. ‘And he really does seem great. You’re lucky to have him.’
I don’t think he was trying to make me feel bad with that comment, I think he genuinely meant it, but it does give me a reality check. I’ll bet Caleb would love to have a dad like mine and, jokes aside, I know that I’m lucky to have him really. Even if he is stressing me out lately.
‘Thanks for smoothing the awkward situation over with him,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t know what I would have said.’
‘Oh, it’s fine,’ he replies. ‘He really was chill about it and, look, we don’t need to take any underwear photos. To be honest, we’ve taken plenty of photos, we don’t need to do any more. I know you’ve only got a couple of days left so I thought I would take you out for the day tomorrow, what do you say?’
‘Oh, you don’t have to do that,’ I reply.
‘I’ve got it all planned out,’ he insists. ‘Plus, it might be good for book inspiration – bad or good. What do you reckon?’
He smiles at his little joke and I can’t help but smile back.
‘Okay, yeah, sure,’ I say, my excitement building. ‘Sounds great. Just when I think I’ve seen everything the resort has to offer…’
‘Well, I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but I’m taking you out of the resort,’ he tells me. ‘But that’s all I’m saying.’
Oh wow, outside the resort. This place has so much going on, I hadn’t even considered the idea of leaving. Then again, I am supposed to be on a writers’ retreat, but also, it turns out it’s a writers’ retreat where no one actually writes, they just drink wine and try to bang the staff.
I wonder where Caleb could be taking me, and I can’t wait to find out, but first it’s time for pancakes. This day just keeps getting better and better.
39
I arrive back at the château to – surprise, surprise – find Mandy, Bette, and Gina lounging on the sofas, glasses of wine in hand.
‘Here she is,’ Mandy says, and I can’t quite place her tone but have you ever had that feeling that everyone was in on a joke apart from you? ‘Henri’s been looking for you,’ she tells me. ‘He said he’d be in the study before bed, and that we should tell you to see him there.’
I raise an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued.
‘Did he say why?’ I ask.
Mandy shrugs, swirling her wine.
‘He didn’t. Just that he was looking for you,’ she tells me. ‘You know, we were only having a bit of fun with the wager, but you’ve clearly taken it too far.’
‘What do you mean?’ I dare to ask.
‘We know you spent the night with him,’ she replies. ‘We saw the two of you head out together.’
‘He was just showing me his private cabin in the woods,’ I say innocently – as though that’s a normal-sounding thing to say.
Gina remains silent, her eyes darting between me and Mandy.
‘Come on, Amber,’ Bette says, in a knowing tone. ‘We’re all adults here.’
Mandy leans back, a smirk playing on her lips.
‘We know you were both missing last night,’ she says. ‘Come on, Amber, just admit it.’
‘His car broke down,’ I explain. ‘Honestly, it’s not what it looks like.’
‘Oh, don’t be so dramatic,’ Mandy says as she waves her hand dismissively. ‘Bette is right, we’re all adults.’
‘And Henri is seriously delicious – who would blame you?’ Gina says.
‘It’s just that we don’t usually, you know, sleep with the help on these things,’ Mandy points out in a tone that makes me want to throw a glass of wine over her. ‘We usually just spend time together – that’s the whole point.’
Is she serious? She was the one saying we should all try to woo him and now she’s saying this, which is all kinds of offensive, on so many levels.
Now the other two are saying nothing, their silence more telling than words. I wonder if anything could make them disagree with her.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t spent more time with you,’ I reply, focusing on that part. ‘I’ve just been trying to finish my book, and trying to find inspiration here at the resort.’
I mean, I’ve been trying to finish it in that I’ve been pasting in chunks of absolute garbage, whenever I’ve found myself with a spare minute, but I can’t tell them that.
‘And you found it in Henri,’ Mandy points out. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter, with only a few days left there is no point trying to join in now. You might as well make the most of your holiday romance – for as long as it lasts, before the next guests check in.’
I sigh. I never really felt like I fit in with them before but now, after spending time with them, things feel even more impossible. Honestly, it’s exhausting, trying to break into their tight-knit circle and to get them to like me. I can’t be bothered to try any more.
‘Okay, well, goodnight then,’ I say, forcing a smile before turning and heading to the study.
This is the first time I’ve seen him, since we were rescued.
Thankfully the door is open. Henri is sitting in a leather armchair, reading through some documents. He looks up as I enter, a warm smile spreading across his face, which quickly puts me at ease. See, it’s so easy, to just be welcoming and nice.
‘Amber,’ he says, standing up. ‘I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.’
I laugh lightly, shaking my head.
‘No, I’m not avoiding you,’ I reassure him. ‘Are you avoiding me?’
Well, he was the one who mentioned the A word.
He chuckles, probably picking up on my nervous energy as he moves closer, closing the gap between us.
‘No, I’ve just been busy with some publicity work today,’ he reassures me. ‘But I would like to take you to dinner tomorrow evening, if you’re free.’
I’m taken aback – and smiling like a maniac.
‘I’d really like that,’ I tell him.
It sounds like it’s just dinner. Not book-inspiration dinner – dinner-dinner. The two of us, eating, spending time together. That’s exciting, right?
Henri hands me a slip of paper with his number on it.
‘So that I don’t need to search for you when I want to find you,’ he tells me. ‘Send me yours.’
I take the paper, our fingers brushing for a moment.
‘I’ll do that,’ I tell him.
He gives me a lingering look before nodding.
‘Okay, that’s good,’ he replies. ‘Then I will see you tomorrow. Bonne nuit, Amber.’
‘Bonne nuit,’ I reply, probably not nailing the accent, but giving it my best.
As I head up the stairs, I take my phone from my pocket and add Henri’s number to my contacts. Then, so that he has my number, I send him a message.
See you tomorrow. X
A reply comes through almost instantly.
Looking forward to it xxx
I know what they say, sisters before misters and all that, but I don’t think I have any sisters here and, anyway, Henri isn’t a mister, he’s a monsieur.
40
The day I am having with Caleb might honestly be the best day of my life and I am in no way exaggerating when I say that. He’s just so much fun, and so thoughtful, and he really knows how to show a girl a good time. The effort he has put into today so far is just… wow. And it’s only lunchtime.
It all started when I arrived at his chalet earlier and found out he had hired a car, complete with a driver, who took us to Switzerland for breakfast. Actual Switzerland. Okay, sure, it’s not that far from the resort, but no one has ever taken me to another country for breakfast before. We had pastries and coffee, and then strolled through the quaint streets, breathing in the crisp morning air, chatting – and honestly, I thought that was it. How wrong I was.
As if breakfast in Switzerland wasn’t enough, we got back in the car and headed to Italy for lunch. Yes, Italy. Another country. How amazing is that?
Right now, we’re sitting outside a charming little café, eating fresh focaccia, drinking cocktails, taking in everything this piazza has to offer, and although it’s not exactly summer here, it’s a lot less wintry than the resort. It’s nice to be outside and to not be freezing.
Caleb leans back in his chair, looking at me with a satisfied grin.
‘So, are you having a nice time?’ he asks.
I smile back at him, feeling genuinely happy.
‘I’m having an amazing time,’ I tell him, making sure he can tell by my tone that I mean it. ‘The furthest a man has ever taken me before is Thorpe Park.’
Caleb snorts with laughter, then tries to contain it.
‘I shouldn’t laugh, but as great as Thorpe Park is, that’s just not good enough,’ he replies.
I laugh along with him – well, if you can’t laugh at yourself…
‘Well, thank you for ruining men for me,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll never be impressed again. You’ll always be the guy who took me to three countries in one day.’
He smiles.
‘Oh, this is nothing,’ he says. ‘Imagine how great a date this would be if I was actually trying.’
I tilt my head, curiously.
‘Is this a date?’ I dare to ask.
‘Of course it is,’ he replies, leaning forward. ‘If you’re pretending to be my girlfriend, you deserve a real date. Some might say you deserve a medal.’
‘In all honesty, you’re a great fake boyfriend,’ I reply. ‘I can’t imagine ever fake dumping you.’
Caleb’s expression shifts slightly.
‘Well, Annabelle didn’t have a problem real dumping me,’ he says.
I hesitate, but then curiosity gets the better of me.
‘If you don’t mind answering, why did you two break up?’ I ask.
He sighs.
‘It’s a tale as old as time, really,’ he replies, trying to keep it light, but I can tell that it bothers him. ‘She realised that being really beautiful and really famous meant she could have anyone she wanted. And, hey, there will always be someone hotter than all of us, right? And if people think they can do better, there’s not a lot you can do about it.’
Wow. That’s brutal. Did she really think she could do better than Caleb? Mr three countries in a day, who has done nothing but try to help me over the past few days.
‘That’s why you should go for an average chick,’ I joke, trying to make him smile. ‘We’ll never let you down.’
Caleb takes my face in his hand, stroking my cheek gently. His eyes are intense as he looks at me.
‘You are not average, Amber,’ he says, the most serious I have seen him. ‘You’re beautiful. Really beautiful.’
For a moment, it feels like he might lean in and kiss me. My heart skips a beat, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like. But before anything can happen, a musician with an accordion appears, shouting something excitedly at us in Italian before launching into an intense rendition of ‘That’s Amore’.
All we can do is laugh – and listen, because this guy is not going anywhere. Caleb wraps his arm around me, pulling me close as we listen to the song, moving us both gently to the music.
As fake boyfriends go, Caleb might just be the best I’ve ever had.
41
I’m feeling on top of the world. I mean, technically, I’m nearing the top of the mountain, where the resort is, but genuinely I feel sky-high right now.
Today has been, hands down, the best day of my life. I’ve experienced so much in such a short space of time that it almost feels like a movie I watched, rather than something I lived through. But I did live it, and I savoured every moment. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this day – even if it’s just because of the sheer volume of photos we took, although somehow they didn’t feel like they were for content, they were for us. The fact we took so many selfies, when we’re not supposed to be showing my face, is proof of that.
For one reason and another, we’re back later than we intended. This means my dinner plans with Henri are ruined, but I messaged him ahead of time to let him know that I was held up on my research trip (yep, that’s what I’m calling it). He messaged back to say it was okay, and that whatever time I get back, I should join him for a drink, and that we can do dinner tomorrow, so that’s good.
I do feel a bit bad, ditching Henri to hang out with Caleb, but hey, this is technically work, right? Taking photos is what he does, and research is a big part of writing, and it worked because I’ve never felt more inspired to write something romantic.
As we drive back, the dark, winding mountain roads are as thrilling as they are terrifying. I have no idea if we’re next to a wall of trees or a sheer drop, and honestly, I think I’m better off not knowing. I just hope our driver knows the way.
‘Thanks for such an amazing day,’ I say to Caleb, breaking the comfortable silence.
‘You’re welcome,’ he replies with a smile, lightly knocking my shoulder with his. ‘I’ve had a really great time. Thanks for making it so special.’
‘Hey, this was all you,’ I remind him. ‘And you can do this sort of thing all the time.’
He looks at me, his smile widening.
‘No, I can’t. It wouldn’t be the same without…’
He trails off as our driver interrupts our conversation.
‘There’s something blocking the road up ahead,’ he tells us.
We both peer through the windshield and see that a crowd of people has gathered at the resort entrance.
‘Oh, shit, they’re photographers,’ Caleb says. ‘They look like paparazzi.’
‘Do they know you’re here?’ I ask, my heart racing.
‘No, I’ve been so careful about what I post,’ he replies. ‘Maybe they’re here for someone else, or just trying their luck, but there’s no way they’re not going to see us if we drive past them.’
‘I can’t turn around, unfortunately,’ the driver tells us. ‘The road is too narrow; I need to go into the resort to turn around.’
It feels like we’re approaching the photographers in super-slow motion, but everything happens in an instant. I try to think fast, to come up with a way to hide my face. With no better options – although now that I’m down here, I can think of several – I bury my face in Caleb’s lap, hoping the paparazzi won’t be able to snap anything but the back of my head. Of course, thinking about it, I realise that my blonde hair is going to really pop against his dark outfit, and it’s going to look like I’m… like I’m… oh boy.
‘Okay, you can come up for air,’ Caleb says after a moment, laughing, once the coast is clear. ‘But they definitely got that Kodak moment.’
‘At least they didn’t see my face,’ I offer up hopefully.
‘No, but they saw mine,’ he replies, pulling a funny face.
Thankfully he seems highly amused, and not mad, and hey, it did work, but it might have been less strange if I just, I don’t know, put my hands over my face or something. I’ll know for next time, not that there will be a next time, I’m astonished there was a first time. I very much feel like I’m living someone else’s life right now, and I suppose I am, I’m living Annabelle Harvey-Whitaker’s life, but you know what I mean.
