Page 80 of You Had Me at Chateau
Caleb takes my face in his hand, stroking my cheek gently. His eyes are intense as he looks at me.
‘You are not average, Amber,’ he says, the most serious I have seen him. ‘You’re beautiful. Really beautiful.’
For a moment, it feels like he might lean in and kiss me. My heart skips a beat, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like. But before anything can happen, a musician with an accordion appears, shouting something excitedly at us in Italian before launching into an intense rendition of ‘That’s Amore’.
All we can do is laugh – and listen, because this guy is not going anywhere. Caleb wraps his arm around me, pulling me close as we listen to the song, moving us both gently to the music.
As fake boyfriends go, Caleb might just be the best I’ve ever had.
41
I’m feeling on top of the world. I mean, technically, I’m nearing the top of the mountain, where the resort is, but genuinely I feel sky-high right now.
Today has been, hands down, the best day of my life. I’ve experienced so much in such a short space of time that it almost feels like a movie I watched, rather than something I lived through. But I did live it, and I savoured every moment. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this day – even if it’s just because of the sheer volume of photos we took, although somehow they didn’t feel like they were for content, they were for us. The fact we took so many selfies, when we’re not supposed to be showing my face, is proof of that.
For one reason and another, we’re back later than we intended. This means my dinner plans with Henri are ruined, but I messaged him ahead of time to let him know that I was held up on my research trip (yep, that’s what I’m calling it). He messaged back to say it was okay, and that whatever time I get back, I should join him for a drink, and that we can do dinner tomorrow, so that’s good.
I do feel a bit bad, ditching Henri to hang out with Caleb, but hey, this is technically work, right? Taking photos is what he does, and research is a big part of writing, and it worked because I’ve never felt more inspired to write something romantic.
As we drive back, the dark, winding mountain roads are as thrilling as they are terrifying. I have no idea if we’re next to a wall of trees or a sheer drop, and honestly, I think I’m better off not knowing. I just hope our driver knows the way.
‘Thanks for such an amazing day,’ I say to Caleb, breaking the comfortable silence.
‘You’re welcome,’ he replies with a smile, lightly knocking my shoulder with his. ‘I’ve had a really great time. Thanks for making it so special.’
‘Hey, this was all you,’ I remind him. ‘And you can do this sort of thing all the time.’
He looks at me, his smile widening.
‘No, I can’t. It wouldn’t be the same without…’
He trails off as our driver interrupts our conversation.
‘There’s something blocking the road up ahead,’ he tells us.
We both peer through the windshield and see that a crowd of people has gathered at the resort entrance.
‘Oh, shit, they’re photographers,’ Caleb says. ‘They look like paparazzi.’
‘Do they know you’re here?’ I ask, my heart racing.
‘No, I’ve been so careful about what I post,’ he replies. ‘Maybe they’re here for someone else, or just trying their luck, but there’s no way they’re not going to see us if we drive past them.’
‘I can’t turn around, unfortunately,’ the driver tells us. ‘The road is too narrow; I need to go into the resort to turn around.’
It feels like we’re approaching the photographers in super-slow motion, but everything happens in an instant. I try to think fast, to come up with a way to hide my face. With no better options – although now that I’m down here, I can thinkof several – I bury my face in Caleb’s lap, hoping the paparazzi won’t be able to snap anything but the back of my head. Of course, thinking about it, I realise that my blonde hair is going to really pop against his dark outfit, and it’s going to look like I’m… like I’m… oh boy.
‘Okay, you can come up for air,’ Caleb says after a moment, laughing, once the coast is clear. ‘But they definitely got that Kodak moment.’
‘At least they didn’t see my face,’ I offer up hopefully.
‘No, but they saw mine,’ he replies, pulling a funny face.
Thankfully he seems highly amused, and not mad, and hey, it did work, but it might have been less strange if I just, I don’t know, put my hands over my face or something. I’ll know for next time, not that there will be a next time, I’m astonished there was a first time. I very much feel like I’m living someone else’s life right now, and I suppose I am, I’m living Annabelle Harvey-Whitaker’s life, but you know what I mean.
The driver drops us right at the chalet door. Now that we’re inside the resort we’re safe from photographers but, even so, we make a dash for it.
We practically fall through the door, laughing as we go, and then we open more wine – even though I’m still buzzing from all the drinks I’ve had today.
