You Had Me at Chateau, page 23
‘I have work to do too,’ I say, forcing a smile. ‘Maybe next year.’
Though I know full well I won’t be back next year.
Henri looks disappointed but nods.
‘Okay. See you around, Amber,’ he tells me.
I mean, he seems disappointed, but he doesn’t seem bothered. I’m getting the feeling that he does this sort of thing often. No wonder he’s a live-in caretaker, he’s having the time of his life.
I close the door behind him and finally exhale. My amazing day and night with Caleb seem like a distant dream now, replaced by the harsh light of day and the realisation that I need to leave all this behind, only now things feel like even more of a nightmare than they did before.
I strip off the French maid outfit (which only reminds me of last night) and throw on some comfortable clothes. Flopping onto the bed, I let out a deep sigh. I’ve gone from sky-high to rock bottom in record time.
Oh, and to top it all off, inspiration has once again been totally drained from my body.
The holiday really is over.
44
I’m all washed up – I was going to say ‘so to speak’ but, now that I think about it, maybe I’m as washed up as a girl can be – and dressed in my own, regular clothes, finally feeling like myself again. Well, that girl last night was not me, and neither was the French maid’s outfit, and neither was my brief stint pretending to be a cleaner. I’m Amber Page, writer, and all-round dull person, and that’s just the way I like it. All of this chaos is not for me. I’m not enjoying it, I’m not good at it, and I’m not playing these games any more.
Sitting at my laptop, I skim over the draft of my book. It’s a mess, full of deliberately awful writing, cringey clichés, and plot holes the size of craters. This is what I wanted, right? The whole point is for my editor to hate it so much that she’ll terminate my contract. I still can’t believe this is the plan – trying to lose a book deal after it took me so long to get one in the first place, but sometimes you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.
I lean back and sigh. I’m really not sure if I’m failing or succeeding right now.
My thoughts are interrupted by the familiar ringtone of my phone, and my mum’s name popping up.
‘Hello, Mum,’ I say, trying to hide my sigh, but I’m expecting another round of complaints about what my dad is up to now.
‘Amber, darling, how are you?’ she asks, her voice sounding unusually bright. Suspiciously, even.
‘Yeah, I’m okay, thanks,’ I reply. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Yes, all good, thanks,’ she tells me. ‘I was hoping to speak to Caleb.’
‘Caleb?’ I repeat, bewildered. That’s the last thing I was expecting her to say. I haven’t even told her that he’s here. ‘He’s not here right now. Why do you need to talk to him?’
‘Oh, Amber, it’s amazing,’ she gushes. ‘Caleb spoke to your dad. He told him a few home truths, and, honestly, he’s like a changed man now.’
I blink, rapidly, my eyes like a camera shutter that’s taking a burst of photos to capture a moment in time. Well, it is an unexpected one. He did say that he liked to stick his nose in, if he thought he could help, and it sounds like he really has.
‘Wait, what?’ I reply.
‘Oh, he’s wonderful,’ she continues. ‘Caleb, that is. He’s… well, I don’t know what he’s done, but he’s knocked some sense into him. Your dad is doing everything he wasn’t doing before – paying attention to me, being helpful around the house, generally being a joy to be around. That’s why I asked him for the divorce, because I just wanted him to realise, to see what I was missing, and what he would be missing without me, and it all went a bit far, but it’s all perfect now, we’re going to give it another go.’
I feel kind of stupid, in hindsight, for not questioning why Mum would be choosing wallpaper she loved for a lounge in a house she reckoned they were going to have to sell.
‘Mum, that’s great news,’ I tell her, genuinely. ‘I had no idea Caleb talked to Dad. Oh, actually, they spoke on FaceTime a few days ago, while I was… in the bathroom, but I didn’t know what they talked about. I thought they were just making small talk.’
‘I only just found out myself, and at first I was jealous that he got to speak to him and I didn’t,’ she admits. ‘But whatever Caleb said to him, it worked.’
Wow. It sounds like Dad just needed someone like Caleb, who’s been through so much, to point out what he has, and what he was taking for granted.
‘That’s the best Christmas present ever, Mum. I’m so happy for you,’ I say with a smile.
It’s not just a Christmas present, it’s a Christmas miracle.
‘Thank you, darling,’ she says. ‘We both needed this. I just wanted you to know, and to thank Caleb if you see him. But I would love to thank him myself.’
‘I’ll let him know,’ I say, not wanting to get into anything else right now. ‘And I’ll see you very soon.’
‘Yes, not long to go,’ she says excitedly. ‘And even more Christmas plans to make. It’s going to be an even bigger and better one now.’
Christmas is one of those things where, sure, it can be bigger, but that rarely makes it better. The fewer extended family and friends around on Christmas Day, the more relaxing it tends to be.
But, hey, at least we’re ending the call on a happy note, and I won’t have to take any more calls, and Tom’s life will be much easier. I guess everything is working out for the best. Well, almost everything.
I’m feeling a real mix of emotions right now – I can hardly pick them apart. I’m thrilled that my parents are working things out. It’s a huge relief, and I’m grateful to Caleb, for the part he played. But the way things have played out between us, ugh, that I’m not happy about. I always assumed he was just another himbo influencer, all sponsorship deals and no substance, but he’s actually a really sweet, thoughtful guy, with a difficult past behind him, but one that hasn’t ruined the way he feels about the future. And, annoyingly, I like him. I really like him – so obviously his ex has shown up, and it seems like he’s going to choose her.
Will he choose her? Am I definitely going to lose him to his ex, or can I still do something about it? I’ve never been the type to make grand romantic gestures – off the page, anyway – but maybe it’s time that changed. Maybe I should go to Caleb, thank him for whatever he said to my dad, tell him how happy he has made my parents – and me. I should tell him how happy he makes me, and I should tell him exactly how I feel. No misunderstandings, no room for interpretation. Then it’s up to him, what he decides to do, who he decides he wants to be with. Gosh, I really hope it’s me but, if it’s not, I will always be able to tell myself that I was bold and brave and I gave it a fucking go.
While the newfound determination is raging, I grab my coat and head for the door.
Maybe this is a mistake, maybe it isn’t. Either way, it’s worth a shot.
45
Standing outside Caleb’s chalet door, I take in a deep breath of cool air and remind myself why I’m here. I can’t leave without knowing for sure where we stand and, even though this is way out of my comfort zone, and that I really, really, truly, honestly never, ever do anything like this, I would kick myself forever if I didn’t try.
My heart pounds like a drum inside my chest, each beat reminding me of just how much is riding on this moment. I lift my hand and knock, trying to steady my nerves.
It doesn’t take long before the door swings open, and there he is, Caleb, which is a huge relief already.
My relief is short-lived, though, because the moment he sees me, his face falls, and a heavy, sinking feeling punches me in the stomach.
‘Who is it?’ Annabelle’s voice calls from inside, her tone sharp and impatient.
Oh, great, she’s still here. Wonderful. I’m sure that’s a great sign.
‘It’s someone from the hotel. I’ll be back in a minute,’ Caleb shouts back.
He steps outside, closing the door firmly behind him. Shit, this is not a good sign, is it? I try to read his expression, but his eyes are guarded, his lips are saying nothing.
I force a smile, trying to act like things are normal.
‘Is everything okay?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice casual, even though my heart is playing battering rams against my ribcage.
Caleb sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. He seems frustrated and kind of disappointed.
‘I’m sort of in the middle of something, Amber,’ he tells me plainly. ‘I have a big mess to clean up, given that I’ve been photographed here at the resort.’
He surely can’t think this is my fault, can he? He approached me, he stalked me across Europe, and he took me on the kind of dream date that would make a woman pounce.
Desperation claws at me, and I grasp at humour like a lifeline, like I always do.
‘Need a maid to help clean up?’ I joke, flashing what I hope is a disarming smile.
But he doesn’t laugh. Not even a glimmer of amusement is anywhere to be found on his face. Instead, he just looks at me, his expression unreadable, almost distant.
‘I really need to go back inside,’ he says, his voice flat.
‘Okay, see you later then?’ I say, trying to mask my disappointment with a breezy tone – everything is normal, everything is fine – but it comes out sounding forced.
‘Yeah, see you later,’ Caleb replies, already turning back to the door.
And then he leaves me standing there, out in the cold, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that really stings.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, as though I’m expecting him to come back out, to tell me it’s all okay, but he doesn’t. I still can’t get over that he really does seem mad at me. What did I do wrong? Maybe he feels guilty about last night and doesn’t want Annabelle, his true love, to find out what happened. Which is just, wow, chef’s kiss, great. Perfect ending to this twisted fairy tale.
Oh, well, at least now I know where I stand, and I can go home, back to my life, and focus on me and my family. I need to be a big girl, to pick myself up, and remind myself that no one died. I guess, if they had, he could use it as inspiration for one of his books, like the one I helped him to write, the arsehole. I can’t believe he’s dropping me like this.
No. No, no, no. I’m not doing this. I’m going home, with my head held high, I’m not beating myself up over someone else’s love story.
Timing is just as important in romance as it is in comedy and, as perfect as Caleb and I seemed for each other, we just had bad timing.
Sometimes it’s as simple as that but, wow, what a waste.
46
After dragging my feet back to the château, with my tail between my legs and my heart pretty much in my arse, I get to step into the warmth of the hallway – probably for the last time.
I’ll miss that feeling, of leaving the cold air outside, to step into the warmth of the château, the smell of burning wood greeting me, making me feel like I’m home.
However cold it is outside today though, honestly, Caleb was colder. Now that I’m back here, and the icy winds have blasted some sense into me, it’s a little easier to remind myself that I don’t need him, and that I don’t need anyone treating me this way. I don’t deserve it, and I can do better.
I mean, I didn’t need him, I wanted him, but… yeah, I can do better, I can do better. And if I chant it enough, I might believe it.
I need to pack my bags but, before I do, I’ve got some goodbyes to say – and maybe some apologies to make.
I step into the inviting glow of the lounge. Mandy, Bette, and Gina are sitting around the fire, drinking wine and nibbling on olives. They’re laughing and chatting, clearly enjoying their evening, but the moment they see me their mood shifts and their laughs fade out into awkward silence.
‘Hey, ladies,’ I say, attempting to muster up a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes – hopefully they can’t sense my fear, or tell that I have a nervous lump in my throat. ‘Listen, I’m really sorry I’ve been MIA for the last few days. I’ve had some things going on, and… long story short, I think it might be time for me to step back from writing for a bit.’
Mandy raises an eyebrow, her lips flickering a hint of smile for a split second, before she settles on something that looks more understanding.
‘That’s all right, Amber,’ she tells me. ‘This job isn’t for everyone. Not everyone is cut out for this life.’
So nice of her to make this a personal failing on my part.
Bette nods in agreement, reaching for another bottle of wine and expertly popping it open with ease.
‘She’s right,’ Bette chimes in, her eyes firmly on her glass. ‘This job is so hard. Sometimes I wonder how we do it.’
She isn’t making it look hard, pouring herself a glass of wine, on her French retreat. Perhaps it’s just what I’ve seen here, and what they show people on social media, but their lives seem filled with leisurely wine evenings, laughter, and each other. I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard a hint of struggle from any of them. Then again, I assumed Caleb had always had a perfect life too. Who knows what things are really like for them? One thing I can say for sure is that, whatever I’m going through, they’re not all that bothered.
‘Well, I need to pack my bag, to head home, but I just wanted to say thank you so much for the opportunity, and maybe I’ll see you later.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll see us again,’ Mandy replies.
We exchange brief, half-hearted goodbyes and – honestly – I can’t leave the room fast enough. I head for the stairs, picking up the pace, keen to get back to my normal life.
As I reach the end of the hallway, I hear footsteps rapidly approaching behind me.
‘Amber, wait!’ Gina calls out as she catches up with me. ‘Can I talk to you for a second?’
I turn to face her, surprised to see genuine concern in her eyes.
‘Yeah, of course,’ I reply, keeping my guard up just a little. ‘What’s up?’
‘You need to take care of yourself, Amber,’ she tells me firmly, but sincerely. ‘Sometimes we all need a break so take some time and figure out what you want to do. There will always be other books, but there’s only one you – take care of yourself.’
Her words are filled with a warmth and understanding that I didn’t get from the other two, and I’m touched that she has come out of her way to offer me some advice.
‘Thanks, Gina. I really appreciate that,’ I say, my voice wobbling slightly. ‘That means a lot to me.’
She gives me a quick, reassuring hug.
‘Just remember that it’s okay to take a step back and breathe,’ she adds. ‘And don’t be too hard on yourself. Save the spanking for the book.’
I laugh, feeling a bit lighter for the first time in days. She’s right, a break is exactly what I need.
‘I’ll try. Thank you,’ I reply, genuinely grateful for her support.
Gina heads back to the lounge, and I continue on to my room.
I grab my things, stuffing them into my bag, pausing for a second to smile to myself as I pack the lingerie I flashed Henri in. I’m not sure I’ll ever wear it again but, weirdly, I feel like it has sentimental value now. How often do you think people say that about raunchy lingerie?
I’m grateful to Gina, for her kind words, and for the time I got to spend with Henri, and all of the inspiring places I saw, and the stories I heard, and yes, I’m grateful for Caleb. Not just for the money he’s paying me for the photos I helped him with, or for seemingly repairing my parents’ marriage, but for the time I got to spend with him too.
Life is just a mess of ups and downs and all we can do is ride the waves as they come at us. At least I can go home to my family – my happy family – and Christmas.
I just need to focus on the positives and get home safely. Although I think perhaps I need something different to watch on the flight on the way home.
I’m not sure I’m in the mood for any more Welcome to Singledom.
47
I spot Tom in his shiny new BMW, waiting for me outside the airport. I reckon he would have picked me up from France, if it meant he got to drive it, because living in London means that, unsurprisingly, a car might just be the slowest form of transport.
The cold nips at my face, but it’s a different kind of cold from where I’ve just been. Even though I think it’s technically not as cold here, the UK cold is damp and dreary in comparison, but that might be because we’ve got icy rain instead of snow. Maybe the grey of the city and the exhaust fumes I’m breathing in aren’t helping, or maybe it’s just my mood. No prizes for guessing which one.
Tom waves energetically from inside his car, his grin wide and welcoming.
‘Hey, sis! How was France?’ he asks, the second I get in the car.
He is almost unnervingly chipper.
I make myself comfortable, immediately appreciating the warmth of the heated seats.
‘Hey, yeah, it was good,’ I say, not giving anything away, but also not sounding like I’ve had the best time.
‘How’s Caleb?’ he asks. ‘Is he still in France or has he come home? He seems like a top bloke. Honestly, that talk he gave me was so encouraging. And, bloody hell, he really worked his magic on Mum and Dad, they’re over the moon. Actually, they’re annoyingly happy. All over each other – it’s a bit much. You’ll see when you get there.’
I laugh, trying to picture our parents all loved-up, but I’m guessing it has to be seen to be believed.
‘I can’t wait,’ I say with a chuckle.
‘Their happiness is having a knock-on effect on Christmas,’ Tom continues. ‘We’ve got a big party planned for Christmas Eve, so you’ve got that to look forward to in a couple of days. They’ve invited absolutely everyone. They even told me to bring a plus-one – not bloody likely though. Watching our parents French kiss under the mistletoe would scare anyone away.’
