‘What kind of possibility?’
‘Tim knows this girl who’s got this brother.’ I can see her gaze wandering back to the cocktail shaker, I’m losing her. ‘Who’s an actor.’ She’s tuned back in. ‘Who would do it. You know be a fake date, but cheaper than those agencies.’ I hope. Maybe I need to ask Amy how much he’d charge. If we could work it out on a sliding latte scale I’d be okay, but if he wanted film star rates… ‘And I wouldn’t need a dog, and I’d know him.’ Kind of. ‘So it wouldn’t be as weird.’ Maybe.
‘Wow, a hot, sexy actor—’
‘I didn’t say…’
‘Picture?’
‘I haven’t…’
‘What’s his name? Come on, let’s Google him. God, I can’t believe you haven’t done that yet. I Google everybody.’ She does. Everybody and everything.
‘I’ve got his sister Amy’s number, she said to get in touch if I decide…’
‘Well, you’ve decided. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me straight away. Come on, let’s get another round of those apple things in and give sister Amy a call.’ Sarah giggles. ‘This is amazeballs.’ Sarah often gets carried away after a few drinks and ‘amazeballs’ is her latest word; at least she’s moved on from calling everything ‘sick’. I blame it on spending too much time playing online video games with teenagers. ‘The dog’s bollocks.’ See? ‘What if it’s Brad Pitt?’
‘It isn’t Brad Pitt.’ I reluctantly wave Amy’s card in front of her. ‘She’s called Amy Taylor-Smith.’
‘But he’ll have an acting name. Gimme.’ She snatches the card before I can stop her. ‘You go and get the drinks in, I’m going to ring Amy. Oh God, this is SO much better than just going to an escort agency, this is SO exciting.’
By the time I’ve walked to the bar and back I’ve changed my mind. Again.
‘I can’t do it.’
‘Bollocks, stop being a spoilsport. You know you want to!’
A little part of me does want to, but the logical, sensible part doesn’t.
‘It’ll be a right hoot!’
‘You’re not the one doing it. There are so many things that could go wrong, and he might be ugly, or gay, or have horrible blubber lips that I won’t want to kiss.’ I feel slightly sick at the thought of big fat lips heading towards me. ‘What if I agreed to this and then totally didn’t fancy him?’
‘Or what if he’s a sexier male version of his sister? I mean I’m firmly in the hetero camp, but she is seriously good looking. Family genes and all that, he can’t be a total minger, can he?’
‘How do you know what Amy looks like?’ I frown at her, suddenly suspicious.
She grins. ‘She didn’t answer when I called her, so I sent her a text, and she said she was in the middle of something. I had to do something while I was waiting, so…’
‘So you went on Facebook.’
‘Damn right I did. Look!’ Sarah shoves her mobile phone in front of my face. I look. ‘This is her, isn’t it? I have got the right woman, haven’t I? It would be so embarrassing if I’d got the hots for some totes different Amy.’
‘Yep, that’s her.’ She’s looking even more gorgeous than she did in the hair salon, and she’s got her arms draped round two very hunky men. Some girls have all the luck.
‘If her brother is dire, though I don’t see how that’s even possible, maybe she’ll lend you one of these? Or,’ Sarah pauses mid-sip, ‘maybe one of these is Jake.’ She enlarges the photo and we both peer. ‘They are seriously hawt.’
They are indeed quite hot. Easy on the eye, as my mother would say.
‘Isn’t this a bit stalkerish?’
‘Definitely not. It’s essential research. Right girlfriend, let’s get digging. If this is Amy’s profile then there’s bound to be a photo of her brother, isn’t there?’ She scrolls down, and I can’t help myself. I have to look. What if he is actually nice? More than nice? This could maybe work.
‘Have you seen this? Bloody hell, she was at the opening of that new bar, she’s a real mover and shaker, isn’t she?’ Sarah has got distracted from the mission. ‘Do you think she could get me an invite to some of these things, now you’re friends?’
‘I’ve only met her once.’
‘But you’re dating her brother.’
‘I’m not exactly…’
She carries on undeterred. ‘Or do you think she needs a holiday? I bet she could afford something really top of the range. Aunt Lynn would be seriously impressed if I could sell to her and her mates.’
‘Sarah!’ I try and grab her phone, but she’s got a firm grip. ‘I need to see him. Now!’
‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist.’ She holds her phone in the air out of my reach, a big grin on her face. ‘This is such a good idea.’ I realise I’m grinning back. ‘Oh God, we’re being seriously thick here. We should look at her friends list, if he’s on Facebook they’re bound to be friends are they? And what kind of an actor wouldn’t be on Facebook?’ She’s tapping away as she speaks and suddenly lets out a shriek. ‘Oh my God! It’s him, it’s him!’
I nearly shriek as well, because she’s clutching my arm. But she is bouncing about on her seat so much it’s hard to see anything at all, apart from a blur.
‘He is frigging gorgeous. You have got to do this, Sam, you have seriously got to do this.’
I take the mobile phone off her, and even though my hands are shaking, I can see him.
Jake Porter.
His gorgeous tawny-brown eyes are gazing straight back into mine as though we’re face to face. Which is stupid, it’s a picture. I touch it, I can’t help myself, and we ping on to his page. Where there are lots more pictures. Jake winking, Jake laughing, Jake with his arm round Amy, Jake gazing at a woman who has to be his mother, Jake looking cute with a puppy, Jake on a horse.
I scroll back. A horse?
‘He’s on a horse.’ It has to be an omen, apart from the totally sexy gorgeousness.
‘So?’ Sarah reclaims her phone. ‘He’s a real dish, isn’t he?
‘So, we have to do horse-riding and stuff in Scotland. He could fit in fine.’
‘Fit in?’ Sarah giggles – then stops and raises an eyebrow. ‘You never said anything about Scotland, that’s miles away!’
‘I know it’s miles away, and it’s for a whole week.’ I lean in closer to Sarah so I can stare at Jake. A whole week with a man like him could be quite nice. ‘Maybe I can do it.’ My stomach has gone all squirmy, so I take a big gulp of cocktail to try and distract myself.
‘Oh God, yes you can girl.’ Sarah is grinning slightly manically. ‘You defo can Sam.’ We both stare at his profile picture. His brown hair is tousled, casually sexy. He’s in a casual shirt, open so you can see his brown neck, the hint of a smattering of hair. The sleeves are rolled up, showing indecently strong, toned forearms. And those eyes…
‘Maybe he just takes a good photo?’ I have to be prepared for disappointment.
Sarah giggles. ‘Lots of good photos. He looks sexy in all of these, but we can always stalk him to make sure he doesn’t act like a douchebag.’
She says it like it’s an everyday thing. Stalking. Which is a bit worrying.
‘What