Page 33 of Love ad Lib
He cleared his throat. ‘I’m afraid a web search for “fake relationship contracts” didn’t supply the results I was hoping for, so I wrote it from scratch.’
She finally brought her eyes to meet his and smiled. She may not have known Henry Foxbrooke for long, but she knew in her bones he was a good person.
‘Henry, this looks longer than my final year dissertation. How long did it take to write?’
He pulled an embarrassed face. ‘A while. But it had to be right.’
She drew her shoulders back. ‘Okay, wish me luck. I’m going in.’
‘Would you like another coffee? Anything to eat?’
She instinctively put her hand on her tummy as it growled. ‘Do you mind? I was so nervous I couldn’t eat breakfast this morning.’
He frowned. ‘I’m so sorry to cause you distress.’
‘I’m fine. Honestly. Nothing a sandwich won’t solve.’ She reached into her bag for her purse. Hopefully she had enough money in her account to cover it.
‘I’ll get this, Libby. Please?’
She nodded with relief. ‘Thank you. Anything will be fine.’
As he went to the counter, she read the front of the document.
‘Contract between Henry Foxbrooke and Libby Fletcher for the details of their fictitious relationship.’
There was room for their addresses, signatures and the date. She opened the first page to reveal a note of the document's contents.
‘Key players, Logistics, Timetable & Events, Backstory, Personal Requirements, Intimacy, Remuneration, Termination clauses, Non-disclosure agreement, Addendum.’
Holy shit.
She turned the page to the list of key players. Here was every member of Henry’s family, plus friends and staff at Foxbrooke Manor as well as family pets. Most people had a photo, and everyone had a bio, listing their age, physical description, jobs, likes and dislikes. It went on for pages. At the end of the section was a family tree and four blank pages for her to add in the details of her own family and friends.
Henry placed a coffee and a plate of sandwiches and pastries in front of her.
‘Are you sure you’ve listed everyone in Somerset?’ she asked. ‘I can’t see any mention of a postal worker. You don’t want them to feel left out?’
‘You don’t have to remember any of it. It’s just a reference document, really. I have a fairly large family and they’re all going to be there. I find them overwhelming at the best of times, so I wanted you to be prepared. If you take the job, of course.’
She flicked through to ‘logistics’. This section contained details of how they would travel up and back to London (in Henry’s car) as well as a description and scale drawing of his bedroom.
‘I need you to understand how we will be in separate beds,’ he explained. ‘This is my room, here, and off it there is another room with a daybed. I used it as a playroom when I was growing up. Now it’s mostly filled with junk. I’ll be sleeping in there and you’ll be in the main room.’
‘Henry, I can’t kick you out of your own bed!’
‘It’s not my bed, and I insist. Unfortunately, there isn’t an ensuite, but there is a bathroom next door. You’ll have sole access to this, and I’ll use another one further along the corridor.’
‘But—’
‘I need you to feel safe and have your privacy. If another room becomes available then I’ll move into it, and say that it’s to save you from my snoring.’
‘Doyou snore?’
His cheeks went darker, and he cleared his throat. ‘I don’t think so. But if I disturb you from the other room, you must say, and I’ll sleep on one of the sofas downstairs.’
‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary.’
‘Well, let’s see.’
