Page 55 of You Had Me at Chateau
‘I wouldn’t,’ I reply. ‘I would just sort of… have it exist near your face.’
‘Have it exist by my face?’ he repeats back to me. ‘Okay, yeah, you’re right, you’re terrible at this.’
I can’t deny that, as bleak as this situation is, it is very funny.
‘See? This is what happens every time I try,’ I say between giggles.
‘Okay, okay, let me try again,’ he says, still chuckling. ‘“He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered… Do you want to see my… Pokémon card collection?”’
Now it’s my turn to be unimpressed.
‘Pokémon card collection?’ I echo.
‘Yeah, I panicked, I didn’t know what word to use for…’ He nods at his crotch. ‘What word do women prefer?’
‘Squirtle?’ I suggest, smug that I have just enough knowledge of Pokémon to crack a joke. ‘I have absolutely no idea. I even gave dong a go.’
Caleb smiles and cocks his head curiously. Lord have mercy, every word I utter is phallic.
‘Amber, you’re right,’ he concludes. ‘I can’t think of a word to say that doesn’t sound like I’m trying to parody something I heard in a porno.’
‘I can write the part of the dialogue where he says he’s here to fix the washing machine,’ I offer up.
‘Fix the washing machine?’ Caleb replies with a snort. ‘How old is the porn you watch? That’s one from the archives.’
‘What would you have said instead?’ I reply. ‘Bearing in mind this is going to tell me a lot about the kind of guy you are and what you’re into.’
He looks at me with those cheeky eyes of his, narrowing them slightly, as he grins.
‘Yeah, I’d stick to the influencing,’ I tell him.
Honestly, I know I’m not one to talk, but this just reminds me that Caleb publishing a book, just because he’s a big name, is so unfair. Still, we move. Technically, I’m muscling in on being an influencer, rather than staying in my own lane, so on this very rare occasion it’s a two-way street at least.
‘Let’s just do some photos,’ I suggest. ‘At least we know that’s worthwhile.’
‘I’ve got some wellness books we can pretend to read by the fire and snap some pictures,’ he says, pulling out a couple of books with colourful covers.
‘Wellness books?’ I reply, raising an eyebrow. ‘Sounds… interesting.’
We arrange ourselves in front of the fireplace, trying to look all cosy and relaxed, like we’re engrossed in our books, but all the while making sure my face isn’t in any of the shots of me, and as intellectual as possible.
Unsurprisingly, it turns out that my face isn’t the only part of me that gives away that I’m not actually Annabelle – my fashion does too. Thankfully in Caleb’s bag of tricks he has all kinds ofclothing for me to wear, and while none of it is my usual style, at least no one knows it’s me.
The book I have is all about how to manifest your inner goddess – and I know that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but neither the cover nor the blurb gives any indication of how exactly it’s going to teach people to do this.
‘Let’s see what pearls of wisdom this one has to offer,’ I say, flipping open my book at a random page.
I clear my throat and read aloud: ‘“To truly connect with your inner goddess, you must first reset your aura by bathing in moonlight, on the third day of your menstrual cycle, while chanting the following words…” – Caleb, at best this is shit. Worst case it’s kind of offensive and totally stupid.’
‘I don’t even know when the third day of my cycle is,’ he jokes with a heavy sigh. ‘I know, I know. Obviously I think that’s a load of shit too.’
‘I don’t know if I want to read more or throw it into the fire,’ I say.
‘Isn’t that the sign of a good book?’ he replies.
‘Just hurry up and take my photos, before I destroy it,’ I insist.
He snaps a few photos of me, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the book. Then he takes a seat next to me, and we take a few more shots together, trying to look like the epitome of relaxation and enlightenment – still while hiding my face, of course. Holding up the book actually comes in really handy.
