‘We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. You’re living up in the middle of nowhere and you spend all your time online. When we get to London, how about I set you up with somebody?’
‘That won’t be necessary. I’m meeting somebody already.’
Like his evasion of Thom’s questions about his financial situation, this wasn’t quite the whole truth, and Jonny felt a stab of guilt. It was a measure of how much the circumstances of the past few months had affected him that he was being deliberately misleading.
‘I mean, I’m going to try to meet a friend,’ he corrected himself. ‘You didn’t give me a whole lot of notice that I was coming to London.’
‘A friend.’ Thom looked interested. ‘Is this a sex friend?’
‘No. She’s a friend. I’ve known her since I was a kid, but we fell out of touch, and we only started emailing each other a few months ago when I got back to England and found her on the web. She lives in London.’
‘A virtual girlfriend. How do you do that whole cybersex thing? I never really understood it. Do you, like, describe what you’re doing to each other, and then use toys, or—?’
Jonny had to laugh at Thom’s single-mindedness. ‘We’re not having cyber sex. I used to have a huge crush on her, but that was when we were kids. I haven’t seen her since we were about eleven years old. And she’s engaged. She’s just—’
He tried to think of how to describe it. Jane was his friend, but it was more than that. Even though they’d never met up, over the past few months Jane’s emails had been just about the only thing that kept him sane.
‘She’s got a great sense of humour, and we seem to have a lot in common. We email four or five times a day.’
‘Oh.’ Thom’s playful interest had been replaced by something more serious. ‘She’s the one you tell things to, huh?’
The one you tell things to. Yeah, he wished. How many times had he sat down and written to Jane, typed all of his problems and worries and disillusion into the computer to send to her … and then deleted the whole thing before he sent it?
It was too painful to say. Even not out loud, even to someone he didn’t see in person. Even to someone he cared about.
‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘she’s got a fiancé, so there’s never going to be anything between us.’
‘Man, you’ve got to be crazy. There is no way her fiancé is as good-looking as you. You just snap your fingers, she’ll drop at your feet.’
‘Thom,’ Jonny said warningly.
‘Okay, okay. I was just saying. I get it, you’re deeper than that and you’re a decent guy who doesn’t break up relationships. I think you’re insane, but that’s nothing new. You do like her despite the fiancé, though, right? Tell Uncle Thom.’
‘I’ve wanted to marry her since I was nine,’ Jonny admitted. ‘But I’ll settle for dinner—if you give me any time off from posing for a camera.’
Thom pulled out his palm organiser and began tapping through it. ‘Well, we’ve got shoots scheduled for most of the day on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, but you should have some time free in the evening to meet your lady friend.’
‘And to do my real work. I’ve got a deadline for a book in three weeks. HTML for Utter Beginners.’
‘And to play. There are some mega parties you need to go to, especially mine on Friday. First, though, you and I are having lunch with the creative director from Pearce Grey, the advertising agency who’s hired you for the Franco campaign. Her name’s Jane Miller. You’ll like her.’
At the name, Jonny sat up straighter and smothered a chuckle.
He knew Jane Miller. And he definitely liked her.
In fact, he’d wanted to marry her since he was nine.
‘Sounds perfect,’ he said, pushing his glasses back on and clicking open his email program on his laptop. He’d already emailed Jane once today, this morning before he’d caught the train, but this called for another message.
‘Just one thing, Jonny?’
‘Mmm?’
‘Put in your contact lenses before we get to London, or I’ll call you Clark Kent by mistake.’
‘No problem,’ said Jonny, and started to type.
Subject: Today
Hey Jane, remember I said I was coming to London if you wanted to meet up? Turns out we’re meeting after all. I have something to confess to you: I’m moonlighting as a model, and you’ve got a lunch date today with my agent Thom Erikson and me.
He smiled. It felt good to come clean about his double life to someone else.
He glanced over at Thom, who was absorbed in his organiser again.
Jonny remembered Jane as a kid. She’d been vibrant, exciting and full of adventure, as outgoing as her four older brothers. She’d looked like a naughty porcelain doll, with her long wavy hair and her sparkling grey eyes.
Jane was up for a little bit of intrigue. She could keep this secret; in fact, she’d probably think it was fun.
Thing is, when I’m modelling, I’m known as Jay Richard instead of Jonny Cole. When we’re with other people, would you mind calling me Jay? It sounds weird, but I’ll explain it to you when we get a minute by ourselves. Looking forward to seeing you again. Love, Jonny.
As he hit the send button, he wondered if Jane Miller was still as adventurous as she used to be.
He hoped so.
Jane walked into the Covent Garden bistro and glanced around its trendy interior. She didn’t see Thom Erikson, or the model she’d hired through him to be the face of Giovanni Franco’s new cologne. Then again, of the two of them, she’d only met Thom in person—she’d seen the model in glossy photographs she’d gone through with her art director, so she might not recognise him in real life. From seven years of working in advertising, she knew very well that appearances didn’t always reflect reality.
It was a lesson she’d been wrestling with constantly for the past week.
At least lunch would be enjoyable, she thought as the hostess led her to the table she’d reserved. She liked Thom, and it was always interesting to meet models, as long as they weren’t chain smokers. They had odd quirks and they were good to look at, and Thom’s models tended to have a sense of humour.
Wouldn’t it just show Gary if I ended up dating a model? she thought, and snorted. She came up with crazy ideas all the time for her job, but this was probably one of the craziest. As if a model would ever notice her enough to ask her out.
Jane pulled her BlackBerry out of her briefcase, figuring she might as well use the time as she waited for Thom and Jay Richard. This morning had been hard work; she deserved a minute or two to look for an email from Jonny.
Her machine took a moment to connect, and when she looked up a man was smiling at her.
He had dark hair and he wore a loose white shirt, unbuttoned at the cuffs. His hands were in the pockets of his faded jeans. He stood casually, comfortably, looking straight at her, and his eyes were dark blue. Even across the room she could see it.
Jane’s fingers gripped her BlackBerry hard. This was her model. It must be, he looked so familiar. But, somehow, in a different way than she’d expected. It wasn’t like recognising someone from a photo. The sight of him connected inside her stomach, making her joints ache and her breasts tighten. Her tailored suit stifled her, felt too tight across her chest.
He