Page 29 of Never Date a Celebrity

She pulled her focus back to their current date and lifted her plastic wine flute. “Do you pour the best wine in Ireland too?”

“Funnily enough, that’s one thing that I’ve found myself extremely well qualified for,” Imogen replied with a smile as she passed Amelia over her drink. “Who knew all of those wine parties I had in my twenties would pay off?”

“You know, you’re really good at this whole dating thing too. I find it surprising that you don’t do it often.”

Imogen finished filling up her own flute and took a quick sip before answering. “Is this the part where I have to answer the more difficult questions?”

“I told you, you don’t have to,” Amelia said. She wasn’t trying to pry—not this time anyway. It was more that she was genuinely curious as to why someone as sweet and beautiful as Imogen hadn’t been snapped up already.

“No, I don’t mind.” Imogen shuffled on her seat like she was readying herself. “It’s a common story, really, why I don’t date. Girl meets girl, girl falls in love, girl gets her heart broken, girl swears off relationships for the foreseeable future.”

Amelia tilted her head sympathetically. “Oh no.” She hated the thought of somebody breaking Imogen’s heart even though she had suspected it might have been the case. “How long ago was that?” Amelia asked, pulling a piece of bread apart and adding some butter.

Imogen began filling her plate too. “Not that long. About a year.”

“Can I ask what happened?” Then Amelia shook her head like that would wipe the question. “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me the details.”

“No, I’ll tell you. It’s fine.” Imogen went on to tell Amelia about what had happened with Chelsea. All the unfortunate details. “It seemed like the more popular Chelsea got online, the less she seemed to care about our relationship. She was getting the attention that she needed already, I guess.”

“From strangers,” Amelia said disgustedly. Because none of Imogen’s story sat right with her. There were a ton of amazing influencers out there—Amelia knew some personally—but this Chelsea did not sound like one of them. Good content did not necessarily equal a great person, and from the sounds of it, most definitely not in this case. “That’s not the same as a loving relationship.”

“Yeah, well, it got worse. Anytime Chelsea got hate online and I tried to reassure her, she said it was my fault because I was dragging her down. Affecting her content with my negativity about her followers—the same followers who were saying all the horrible things about her. When the hate got worse again, I told her that she could quit if she wanted to. Escape the constant criticism. Then she said that I didn’t support her dreams.” Imogen sighed. “Then she broke up with me on a live stream.”

Amelia stared at her in disbelief. No wonder Imogen had shut herself off afterwards. She would have too. The thought of someone making Imogen feel that small made Amelia’s stomach twist.

And Imogen’s dislike of celebrity culture made so much more sense now. Not that Amelia was an influencer, but hundreds of videos of her were streamed daily on all the different platforms. Interviews, movie clips, event appearances, gossip—most of it untrue. And that was only social media. The tabloids were a whole other kettle of fish. But, in Amelia’s case, it was a side effect of her job. She didn’t go looking for the attention, but public scrutiny came with the territory. Which meant that there was every chance that Imogen would bolt the second Amelia told her who she was. And that moment was only getting closer.

Shit.

Well, she was at least going to try to make the most of the short time that she had left on their date before she inevitably pulled the rug from under herself. “That’s terrible, Imogen. You deserve so much better than that. God, I’m sorry that I made you dredge all of that stuff up.”

“Don’t be,” Imogen said, brushing it off. “Believe me, I’m over it now. And her. Besides, everything happens for a reason, right?”

Amelia gave her a questioning look, because she wasn’t sure what reason there could be for treating someone like trash. “You think so?”

“I do.” Imogen locked her gaze on Amelia. “If that hadn’t happened to me then I probably wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now.”

For a moment, warmth overtook the guilt brewing inside of her. Amelia could allow herself to enjoy this for a few more minutes, couldn’t she? “Well, I can’t say I’m happy that happened to you, but I must admit that I am very happy that you broke your dating strike to come out with me today.”

“I figured you were worth the exception.” Imogen lifted her plastic flute of wine. “To making exceptions.”

Amelia leaned forward and clinked her flute against Imogen’s. “To making exceptions,” she repeated. “I feel very lucky that you did.” She just hoped Imogen would have it in her heart to make one more.

They both sipped from their drinks and continued to eat their way through the amazing spread that Imogen had provided. When Amelia thought of picnics she usually thought of sandwiches and salads. Flasks of coffee. Maybe some of those little, tiny sausages or leftover chicken. But Imogen’s idea of a picnic? A hundred times better. And whoever Sally was, Amelia agreed—her jam was one of the best she had ever tried.

Afterward, Amelia helped Imogen gather up what small amount of food they had left and pack it into her backpack along with the empty wine bottle that Imogen said she would recycle back at the bar. After the two glasses she’d drunk, Amelia felt warm and tingly, and slightly more courageous about what she was going to tell Imogen. Slightly.

Needing a minute to brace herself, Amelia slowly wandered away from the picnic table toward the cliff edge. She didn’t get too close to the edge—Amelia wasn’t scared of heights, but she wasn’t overly comfortable with them either. She just got close enough to get a good look at the expanse of ocean that stretched out for miles in front of them. There was something incredibly calming about watching ocean waves lap and crash and swell. Amelia had always thought so. She loved the sea and all its different moods, and the sea in Ireland was particularly moody.

She didn’t have to turn around to sense Imogen approach from behind. She stopped beside Amelia and silently peered out for a few seconds too. “I’ve always thought that the sunset would look amazing from up here, but I didn’t know how you’d feel about walking back down in the dark.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Amelia said quietly so as not to disturb nature’s peaceful ambience. “I’m sure my tour guide would keep me right and ensure that I don’t go stumbling down any hills or anything.”

“All part of the service.” Imogen grinned. “Maybe another time then…”

Amelia didn’t miss that Imogen let the sentence hang there, dangling between them, a question disguised as a statement. Imogen wanted to know if there was going to be a second date, and Amelia wanted there to be. God, she wanted there to be so badly. “I would love that,” she replied honestly.

Only, she was almost positive that Imogen would change her mind after she learned who Amelia was. It wasn’t right to hold off any longer. She steeled herself and turned. “Imogen, I need to—” The words fell dead on her lips as she looked up into Imogen’s eyes. Her warm, compassionate eyes that were now looking at Amelia like she was something to behold. When was the last time someone had looked at her that way? Imogen’s gaze flickered downward to her lips, and Amelia felt her breath catch in her chest. She watched, entranced, as Imogen delicately wet her own lips, the result too inviting to even try to resist.