Page 16 of The Wedding Pact
‘Ouch.’
August chuckled. ‘You know what I mean. You, and probably I, would end up advertising and then sharing with a stranger anyway. So … ’
‘Better the devil you’ve known for five seconds … ’
‘ … than one you’ve known for zero!’
Flynn glanced down at their hands, still clasped together. ‘But what’s with the amateur dramatics?’
Chapter 11
August
August glanced back behind her. A minute ago, from the corner of her eye, August had spotted the landlady and her son wander into the snug and look towards the balcony doors. Now, the landlady was still there, talking to her son and looking irritated at what he was saying, but watching August and Flynn with interest.
Was this idea too out there, even for August? She could almost sense her grandmother chuckle at that. In parallel, she could almost sense her mother pursing her lips in disapproval.
No, it was fine, it wasessential. This was nothing more than an acting role.
Time to delve even further into character. August dropped Flynn’s hand and wrapped both arms around his waist, smiling up at him with as much fake love as she could muster. ‘I know this is really weird,’ August pleaded through her smile, keeping her voice low. ‘And I am so sorry for man-handling you, but I know how we can have a good shot at landing this apartment. And believe me, if you don’t follow my lead, wewill notbe living here.’
Flynn studied her face for a moment, as if guarded. Perhaps he had a girlfriend and felt uncomfortable. But before she could question him, he seemed to shake away whatever thoughts were mulling, and turned to her, wrapping his arms around her too, their bodies close together, and their faces looking directly into each other. ‘Go on,’ he coaxed.
August lost her words for a second, distracted by the intimacy. She cleared her throat. ‘I overheard something, from the landlady. She was talking to her son and she really only wants to rent to one type of person, or people: a couple. A married couple.’
‘I’m not sure that’s legal,’ Flynn replied, a small laugh escaping.
‘Well, it probably isn’t, and I think her son’s been trying to tell her that, but the fact is that’s what she wants, she’s already been turning people away, and us arguing with her might make a point but it won’t get us in the door.’
‘Why does she want a married couple?’
‘Something about stability and not wanting fickle singletons coming and going and moving in and out.’
‘I’m beginning to see where this is going,’ Flynn said, noticing the landlady in the snug for the first time, and how August was still nestled in his arms.
‘We’d just need to pretend we’re married for thetiniestamount of time.’
‘Whooooa,’ Flynn laughed and on seeing that the landlady and her son had left the snug, he dropped his arms and took a step away from August. ‘Pretend we’re married? I thought you were going to say pretend to be a couple.’
‘It’s the same thing!’ August cried.
‘It’s not the same thing at all. If we tell her we’re a couple we can then tell her we’ve split up the next time we see her. If we tell her we’re married that’s a whole different … everything.’
‘It’s just semantics,’ August said, waving his concern away. And even if it wasn’t that easy, she’d find a way to make it work. It would befine. ‘Have you seen how much interest there is in this place? There are other couples in thereright nowtrying to prove they’d make the best tenants. We need to fit the bill, exactly.’
‘But … married?’
‘Yes. Married. It has to be, because she’s not going to want just a couple who might split up and move out. She wants people who are dependable, solid, that’s what she said.’
‘But what if we aren’t in it for the long haul? What if I don’t like my job and decide to move out in six months? What if you decide to move on?’
‘Iamin it for the long haul,’ August said, certainty in her voice and in her heart. ‘I will not move out; I won’t let her down. And if you need to move on that’s fine, we can handle it, and I’ll have proved myself as a great tenant by then.’ She didn’t want to plead with him, but every part of her was in fact silently begging him, this virtual stranger, to help her.
Her grandmother’s hand. The feel of it inside her own flashed into her mind at that point, out of nowhere. Being a school child, climbing this hill with the woman who had meant more to her than anyone in the world, who had looked after her, homed her in the holidays, especially after her parents’ messy divorce and subsequent leaving of her dad, told her stories and explained how to grow up. And the memory of that warm hand, skin soft from years of thick cream applied daily but wrinkled like the soft folds of worn leather, now tingled against her palms. August turned her face away from Flynn for a moment and looked out across the gardens.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked her.
‘Nothing,’ August answered. It wasn’t fair to lay what she was really remembering on him. Eventually she said, ‘Just that I’d be willing to give you the bigger room … So what do you think?’
