Page 76 of The Suite Life
‘Yeah, I’ll join you,’ I reply, following him out.
As we walk along the corridor, I spot a door to one of the suites and suggest we step in there to chat.
‘I take back what I said,’ Donnie starts. ‘Stealing is exactly the sort of thing she would do.’
‘Yeah, it must have been her,’ I tell him. ‘The screenshot is gone.’
Donnie sits down on the bed, his back against the headboard. I join him, taking a seat next to him.
‘You get used to it,’ I joke. ‘To her, I mean. Honestly, don’t worry about it. No one thinks you stole anything. Shall we just stay here for the rest of the trip? They probably have movies on this TV.’
‘Yeah, okay,’ Donnie says with a sigh. ‘I can’t believe you have to put up with her.’
‘Neither can I,’ I say with a laugh. ‘But I don’t know, now that you’re around, for some reason, it’s not bothering me as much.’
‘That’s because you have me to hide in here with,’ he replies, as I intertwine one of my hands with his.
‘Sorry you got dragged into this,’ I tell him.
‘Do you know what?’ he says, smiling and looking at our hands together. ‘Suddenly, I don’t mind all that much either.’
36
As Jeff and I stroll along the moonlit beach, honestly, it’s like something out of a movie. The rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore, the moonlight shining down on us, the cool sand beneath our feet, the beautiful ocean sparkling, the stars in the sky shining bright. It’s like being in a landscape painting.
We just had our second date and it couldn’t have been more perfect on paper. We ate at the chef’s table in the VIP restaurant – where thankfully they served more than just seafood – and we ate, drank and chatted all evening. Again, Jeff has been nothing but a gentleman so, when he suggested we go for a night walk, I said yes.
Jeff is great. He’s nice, he can be quite funny, and of course he’s handsome, and his accent is easy on the ears. I wouldn’t exactly say that sparks were flying between us, but that’s not really how these things go, is it? Plus, not to sound like a jaded old cynic, but my plan was never to find love, just someone to take to the wedding. I’m wondering, tonight, whether or not I should ask him. Jeff is perfect on paper, and he has a good job, and a nice smile, and okay, he may not be a celebrity chef or in a metal band, but a date like that would seem like a gimmick, andno one would take it seriously, would they? But Jeff, he seems like the real deal, and the real deal is what I need, if I’m going to convince them all I’ve moved on and that I’m happy and that I’m not unhinged which, I realise, I do seem right now.
We’re chatting about travel, although this time I haven’t made any bold claims about places I haven’t really been, I’ve been nothing but honest, and it turns out it makes conversations so much easier when you’re not constantly trying to keep up with your lies – who knew?
‘I love LA,’ Jeff says with a sigh.
‘We flew via LAX, but I’ve never been otherwise,’ I say truthfully. ‘I don’t think spending time in the airport really counts, does it?’
Jeff laughs, letting me down gently with a pat on the arm.
‘There are some great places in the US,’ he continues. ‘Have you been to Florida?’
I shake my head.
‘No, but my sister and her soon-to-be husband are going there on honeymoon,’ I reply. ‘She’s been making so many plans, booking so much fun stuff. I’m jealous.’
‘I love that they’re getting married here,’ Jeff says with a sigh. ‘Starting as they’re meaning to go on, huh?’
‘Something like that,’ I reply.
‘If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem all that excited about the wedding,’ Jeff points out. ‘Forgive me, if it’s not my place to say.’
‘Oh, no, it’s fine, and it’s nothing,’ I insist. ‘It’s silly really, but I had a date for the wedding, and now I don’t, so it’s just a bit awkward. I think everyone is still expecting me to turn up with someone.’
There it is, I’ve said it, and I feel better for my honesty… until I realise that Jeff has gone quiet. Shit.
‘Oh, okay,’ he eventually says. ‘Well, add Florida to your bucket list. There are so many places I haven’t been that I would love to visit. The pyramids, for example. I really want to see them in real life.’
‘Wow,’ I reply, leaning into the subject change – I would probably rather whizz down the zip line than experience that rejection again. ‘There isn’t much on my list yet. I figure I’ll start small, with the Eiffel Tower perhaps.’
‘The Eiffel Tower is taller than the pyramids, you know,’ he teases.
