Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“You should work in hostage interrogation.”
Madison breaks into a huge smile. “I know. Tell me everything.”
“If I do, I’m going to make you sign an NDA as soon as I can get hold of one. Anyway,” I continue, stifling a yawn, “I ran into Vivian and we got chatting. She needs a fake boyfriend and I was happy to oblige. It’s as simple as that.”
“So you’re not actually dating?” Madison asks.
“What do you mean, fake boyfriend?” Nathan asks. “Why would she need a fake boyfriend?”
“Is it because of that shit-head Matt?” Madison asks.
“Yeah. She’s about to promote her next album and she doesn’t want all the press questions to be about her ex.”
“She wants all the questions to be about you instead.” Madison squeals, which is the first time I’ve ever heard an adult human woman make that sound. It’s a little disconcerting. “This is so exciting.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because you’re dating Vivian bloody Cross. She’s…a queen. Like we should topple Charles and have her on the throne immediately. In fact, I might create one of those survey things…you know that if you get more than four hundred signatures on a petition, you can have a proposal debated in Parliament. Can you imagine? Vivian Cross could be our actual queen—”
“Exactly how much sleep have you had in the last week?” I ask as Madison starts tapping away on her phone.
“Yes, here it is, it’s on Wikipedia. The UK Parliament petitions website allows members of the public to create and support petitions for consideration by the Parliament of the United Kingdom. Although…blah blah…considers all petitions which receive 100,000 signatures or more, there is no automatic parliamentary debate.” Her shoulders slouch. “So there’s no guarantee.” She looks deflated, like she thought crowning Queen Vivian was in touching distance.
“Yes, no matter your ambition, I don’t think the British government are about to disrupt the Mountbatten-Windsor line to let an American on the throne. We’ll be a republic before that happens.”
“It would be more likely if she married a Brit,” Madison says, seeming to regain her footing.
“If that Brit was Prince William, maybe.”
She sighs and turns back. “So back to reality.”
“Oh good,” I say. “I like it there.”
“Do you like her? Could it turn into something? I mean you must fancy her. She’s gorgeous.”
“Am I thinking about the right woman?” Nathan asks. “Emo, blue hair and nose piercing?”
“No.” Madison and I groan. Then she holds her phone up at Nathan, who steps closer to have a look.
“Right, I know the one,” Nathan says. “She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, I think she’s gorgeous,” I say. “I’d have something seriously wrong with me if I didn’t. And I like spending time with beautiful women, so why wouldn’t I agree to be her fake boyfriend?”
“Have you kissed her?”
“No, and can you get out of my room so I can get up and get to work? Nathan?”
“Why don’t you bring her over for dinner?” she asks.
“Oh,” I tap my fingers on the duvet, “let me think, why wouldn’t I bring her over to meet my sister-in-law who just woke me up in the middle of the night to pepper me with questions about her?”
Madison shrugs. “If you’d told us in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to, so really, this is your own doing.” She stands and leaves, pausing to kiss Nathan on her way.
“Nathan, do you have time this morning to chat about something?” I ask.
“I have to go. I have a call with Dubai in ten minutes. Tonight?”
“Yeah, that would be good.”
“She’d be welcome,” Madison continues. “I’ll pretend I’m not bothered having her over, if it would make things easier.”
“I actually wouldn’t be bothered having her over, if that makes things easier,” Nathan adds. “Just make sure it’s not just her that you’re helping in this situation. I know what you’re like.”
I wave my hands at them both, trying to hurry them out of my bedroom. They are perfect for each other. It’s like watching an old-fashioned scale that’s got exactly the same amount of weight on each plate, only one’s feather and one’s lead.
It must be nice to have someone balance you out like that. Someone who knows all your good bits, but all your bad bits too, and loves you because of all of it.
“Will you be home for seven?” I call as Nathan heaves Madison out of the room.
“Should be.”
I look at the bedside clock. Fourteen hours until I confess my plans to Nathan, making my business plan that much more real. I’ve always thought of the travel business idea as something I might do in the distant future. After all, it’s impossible to start a business and live the life I do, traveling regularly, away for weeks and months at a time—sometimes in remote areas without reliable telephone service, let alone internet access.
I’m not convinced the distant future is here, right now, but maybe it’s not so distant anymore. It feels like the right time to take a few steps toward a project I’m still thinking about ten years later. Given I know nothing about business, talking to Nathan is a shuffle forward.