Page 56 of Your Pace or Mine
Cressida rolled her eyes. “Really, Jamie, you think I’m going to judge anything you say?”
Jamie explained, quietly, careful not to be heard by the women two tables over, the whole fake relationship thing. How it was going to help him clean up his image and maybe generate some decent press for both of them.
“I don’t see why you care so much about what people think. Everyone knows how I landed my next role, but I don’t give a fuck, I’m going to be the one up on that stage at the end of the day.”
“You need to be careful, Cress. There’s a thin line between fun side piece and liability. Trust me, you don’t want your career going tits up like mine. I swear there’s not a producer in London that takes me seriously anymore.”
“So this fake relationship is going to help you look more what? Reliable? Serious?” she asked. “That’s it?”
“We slept together,” Jamie said, taking another sip of his drink.
Cressida lowered her sunglasses. “Good?”
“Fuck, too good, I swear.”
“OK, so you’ve been gallivanting about with a hot professional athlete, who is fucking loaded by the way. You look like a saint in the papers, and you’re getting great sex out of the deal. I don’t see the problem here?”
“It’s not just sex, not for me at least,” Jamie muttered.
Cressida’s eyebrows flew up. “Wait, are you saying, Jamie, are you falling for him?” she teased.
“Ridiculous, right? It’s way too soon, isn’t it? I’m probably just projecting or displaying some sort of, I don’t know…”
“Woah, no way, you really are,” she whispered. “Does he… feel the same?”
“I doubt it, he’s got so much going for him and I’m just… me.”
“Jamie, I adore you, but I really don’t want you to get hurt here. And with the Hewitts being who they are, I don’t know—“
“What do you mean?”
“We are talking about Darius Hewitt, right? Son of Archibald Hewitt, Duke of Cumberland? Professional marathon runner? He’s a Marquess, Jamie.”
Jamie spat out the sip he’d just taken. “Excuse me?”
“Surely you knew he was well off?”
Jamie stared at her. “Well off? Well off? I knew he was posh, okay, I’ve been to his house. I just thought he was posh like you—champagne taste, nannies, and boarding school—not ‘listed in Debrett’s, and building a bunker under the castle for the next revolt’ levels of posh.”
Cressida bit her lip. “But, those articles… You must’ve known?”
“I thought they were being facetious, calling him Lord Hewitt. God, he’s way out of my league, isn’t he?” Jamie slouched down in his chair with a dejected sigh when Cressida didn’t immediately contradict him.
“Maybe, just enjoy it for what it is? You’ve got a few months, right? Enjoy the sex, enjoy the good publicity, but don’t put your heart on the line for this guy, Jamie.”
Jamie nodded. The problem was that it might already be too late for that.
Chapter 14
Darius
7 weeks to the London Marathon
Jackson and Darius were leaning against the breakfast bar in the kitchen of Darius’s townhouse, snacking on trail mix as they caught up properly for the first time in weeks. It would be their only chance before Jackson left for altitude camp with Anders and Owens.
Anders wasn’t even being subtle about his plan to select Owens for the Olympics in the next round, including him in all the same training sessions as Jackson. Darius was decidedly avoiding selection committee talk, but doing so meant talking about Jamie.
“God, you don’t do things by halves, do you? Big public coming out, all loved up with your dancer boyfriend,” Jackson teased. “I called it, didn’t I?”
