I unzip one side of my bag to see the usual suspects: my purse, a notepad, four different lip glosses, loose change, empty food wrappers and a couple of rogue M&Ms. Women’s handbags are strange creatures, aren’t they? Just a Mary Poppins-style bottomless pit of all kinds of things from the useful to the bizarre to the gross. They do not, however, house $20,000.
I show Jack inside – only for as long as he needs to look to see there’s no money in there, but not long enough for him to take stock of what I’ve got. Then I open the other side, ready to do the same… except there are two wads of hundred-dollar bills in there.
‘There’s money in my bag,’ I whisper to him, as though he didn’t already know.
‘Yeah. $20k,’ he laughs.
‘I just… I thought it would take up more space. Oh my God, thank God I got this past customs,’ I laugh, unable to hide the joy in my voice. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he laughs. ‘Thank you for my first time on an airplane, I guess.’
I’m about to tell him he’s welcome – selling my lying, cheating fiancé’s ticket for $20k seems like a pretty sweet deal – but then I remember I’ve just married a stranger and it’s a sobering thought.
The air hostess places my drink down on the table in front of me. I immediately knock it back. Well, getting drunk is the best way to banish sobering thoughts, isn’t it?
‘You have two passports and yet you’ve never left Nevada?’ I ask. Is this guy for real?
‘Hedging my bets,’ he says with a cheeky laugh. ‘I told you this last night.’
‘There’s a lot I don’t remember from last night,’ I remind him. With each little piece of the puzzle Jack gives me, I see the bigger picture a little more clearly. ‘I don’t usually drink so much.’
‘So you keep saying,’ he laughs. ‘And yet you were drunk when I met you, we spent all night drinking together, and here you are now, in the a.m., drinking.’
‘So?’
‘So, if it looks like a party girl and acts like a party girl…’
‘You think this is who I am?’ I ask. ‘This isn’t me. I don’t look like this or act like this. I don’t marry strangers. This is just a weird reaction to losing my fiancé.’
‘So, when we were chatting and you were telling me how you and your cousin have always been compared to one another, and how you were never going to hear the end of it if she got married first, and that if you could only get married first…’
‘Wow,’ I shriek. ‘You think I tricked you into marrying me so I could spite my cousin?’
Jack shrugs his shoulders.
‘Maybe you tricked me into marrying you so you could get your hands on my $20k.’
‘I don’t want your money, Georgie. I want to get off this plane, on the next one back and get a divorce.’
‘We don’t need a divorce, we need an annulment,’ I tell him.
‘What’s the difference?’
‘We can get it annulled immediately. It’s like cancelling it out – so long as we didn’t have sex.’
‘We didn’t,’ he insists, a little too quickly for my liking. ‘So let’s just get this done and go our separate ways.’
I think for a moment. I want to get an annulment as soon as possible – of course I do – except… I’m supposed to be arriving in England today and pre-wedding forced-fun starts tomorrow. If I don’t turn up, I’ll be in so much trouble. My auntie will probably think I’m doing it to ruin my cousin’s big day week. And then there’s my problem of not having a fiancé… The cogs in my head are turning.
‘OK, we both just need to calm down and think about what’s best for everyone. Marriage is about compromise, right?’ I joke.
Jack pulls an unimpressed face.
‘Sorry. So, I can’t get the first plane back because I need to be around for my cousin’s wedding. You’ve heard my story, you know I need to be there. And you know everyone is expecting me to turn up with my fiancé.’
‘So, what, you think turning up with a random husband is going to show you in a better light than admitting you got cheated on and broke up?’ he asks in disbelief.
‘No, of course not,’ I reply. ‘But the last time my parents visited was not long after John and I got together and he was away on tour, and his passionate hatred of social media means he would never let me upload photos of him.’
‘Your ex was a dick. So?’
‘So, no one knows what he looks like,’ I point out. ‘So, you can come with me and pretend to be him. It’s only a week, it’s a free holiday with a fancy wedding – it’s not like you’ve got work, is it? Plus, if you do this for me, I’ll give you half the money. I’m sure that will come in handy while you look for a job.’
Jack laughs.
‘Let me get this straight – you’re going to pay me $10k to pretend to be your fiancé for a week? Then what?’
‘Then we’ll head back to the US with our already-paid-for return tickets, get our annulment and I’ll make something up about how I dumped you for having a small penis.’
Jack laughs.
‘You’re really serious, aren’t you?’
‘I didn’t ask for any of this,’ I tell him. ‘I’m just playing with the cards I’ve been dealt.’
‘Oh, well, I can’t resist a gambling pun,’ he laughs. ‘OK, fine. But it’s one week, and then home to get this annulled, OK?’
‘Oh, definitely,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t want to be married to you any more than you want to be married to me.’
‘Easiest $10k I’ll ever make,’ he says, leaning back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head.
I pull an unconvinced face at him.
‘You won me $20k playing poker,’ I remind him. Surely that’s easier?
‘Yeah, but you need money to gamble in the first place. I couldn’t afford to gamble that kind of money, even if I am a great player. Do you know how much it costs to live on your own?’
My face falls as I realise I’m going to be finding out very soon. It takes Jack a moment to realise what he’s said.
‘OK, so, you’re the mastermind of the plan. Talk me through it,’ he says, almost excitedly.
‘Well, now that horrible ring is off… no offence…’
‘None taken,’ Jack replies. ‘I’m pretty sure that one came from a vending machine.’
‘Nice. Well, I’ll put my engagement ring back on.’
I take the ring from the little pocket in my handbag where I hid it and slip it back onto my ring finger, where it used to belong.
‘Holy shit,’ Jack exclaims, grabbing my hand for a closer look. ‘You’d win $20k a whole bunch of times if you flipped that thing, if you know what I mean.’
‘Sell it?’ I ask, because I’m not entirely sure I know what he means. Jack’s Nevada accent is strong, and he talks like he’s a cool guy – or at least, someone who spends a lot of time around cool guys. ‘I’m not selling it. Once this week is over, I’m giving it back. I want nothing from him. I don’t even want to talk about him.’
‘Well, that’s unfortunate,’ Jack laughs.