Page 45 of You Had Me at Chateau
‘I don’t know what’s funnier,’ he says. ‘You whipping out a wanger at the dinner table, or the fact you say “effing” – I do know, it’s the dildo, but it’s all hilarious.’
‘It’s a force of habit,’ I tell him. ‘I use it in my books a lot of the time, because some people don’t like too much swearing.’
‘Really?’ he replies. ‘I love a good fuck.’
I flash him a smile.
‘And using the word too,’ he adds cheekily.
‘People say that swearing isn’t very creative, or it’s for people with a limited vocabulary, but just think about how versatile that one word really is. Fuck you – angry. Fuck me – shocked.’
‘Let’s fuck – horny. Fuck it – resignation,’ Caleb adds. ‘Hey, this is fun.’
I laugh, because it really is.
‘Let’s fuck with him – mischievous,’ I add. ‘Let’s fuck him up – violent.’
‘You’re so fucking awesome – compliment,’ Caleb says.
‘But you can substitute them for “eff”,’ I point out. ‘Don’t eff with me – threat.’
‘Oh, but the real thing just sounds much more impactful,’ he points out.
‘Well, I hope you enjoyed your free fucking chocolate,’ I joke.
‘Well, I’m not saying anything about what you got,’ he adds with a laugh.
‘I suppose you got this place for free too,’ I muse as I glance around the chalet.
‘Actually, no, I’m paying for my stay,’ Caleb replies. ‘I’m sure dropping my name helped me bag a last-minute booking, and they did offer me the chalet for free, but the catch with freebies is that you have to promote them. I don’t want anyone to know I’m here – and they did, so I thought best to book it with no strings attached. I figured if you were helping me out, well, if any photographers managed to sneak in, they’d see you weren’t Annabelle, and the jig would be up.’
‘Does it really have to be Annabelle in your photos?’ I ask curiously. ‘If they just want you to plug products on a romantic break, surely you can do that with any girl?’
Caleb pulls a face, as though he’s mulling things over again, but then he seems to land on the same conclusion.
‘I think because I made the deals while I was with Annabelle, and we were basically everyone’s favourite couple on Instagram,brands might not want to see me peddling romance with someone new,’ he points out. ‘No one even knows we broke up, so it might seem like I’ve moved on really quickly, or like I’m cheating on her – the optics would be all wrong. The brands might pull their deals, and I’d lose out on a lot of money.’
I wonder just how important money is to Caleb. It seems like it’s very important, although I guess money is important to everyone. Living isn’t getting any cheaper. And money is the reason I’m here, so I really can’t judge him, can I?
I was never a fan but I certainly saw a lot of Caleb and Annabelle online. They were Instagram’s sweethearts. Everyone loved them – except for me. Personally, I was always sick of seeing their smug, loved-up faces everywhere (although, thinking about it, that’s probably something that goes hand in hand with being so single for so long). If I hadn’t met Caleb, I probably would have felt a weird relief at their break-up, to not have to see their seemingly unrealistic, blissfully happy life, but I did always view their relationship cynically, like it was one big marketing ploy. Sitting here now, hearing what Caleb wants me to do, doesn’t exactly change that, but I do get the sense that he actually liked her. Plus, any break-up sucks, right?
‘Okay, so, what’s the plan?’ I ask, ready to get down to business.
Caleb motions for me to sit down on the sofa by the roaring fire. I oblige, sinking into the softness, while he retrieves a suitcase from the other side of the room. He drags it over with a grunt, unzips it, and starts pulling out items like a magician pulling endless random items out of a hat.
‘So, here’s the deal,’ Caleb begins, spreading out a collection of clothes, accessories, and random gadgets on the coffee table. ‘I have bags full of products and whenever I fulfil my end of the deal and share something on my socials, I get paid. Each product pays a different amount. For example…’ He rummagesthrough one of the bags and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. ‘I have a selection of items from a well-known trendy adult store, and products like these tend to pay higher.’
I blink at him, unable to hide my surprise. Not that you make more money from stuff like that, just at the sight of him dangling handcuffs in my direction.
He quickly waves his free hand, as he stuffs the handcuffs back in the case.
‘We don’t have to do anything like that, I’m just saying,’ he adds.
I let out a sigh of relief. Well, I’ve seen my fair share of things in the romance hamper, but if I couldn’t even bring myself to wear nipple tassels in my own company, I’m not sure playing sexy dress-up with Caleb is going to feel like a casual walk in the park.
‘So, do you think we can really pull this off?’ I ask him, changing the subject, although probably not choosing the best words. It’s ironic that, even though I’m a writer, I always seem to put my foot in it with my choice of words.
‘So long as we don’t get your face in the shot, no one is going to be able to tell the difference,’ Caleb insists. ‘Unless you have any secret tattoos – you don’t, do you?’
