Page 72 of Never Date a Celebrity

Amy nodded way too many times. “Sure. Okay. Maybe tomorrow then?” She didn’t quite look Imogen in the eye when she asked, probably because she was afraid of what she might see on Imogen’s face. Usually, Amy was all about the eye contact. It hurt Imogen’s heart to see her so uncertain. And it was her fault.

“Yeah. Of course, maybe.” Imogen wasn’t going to ghost Amy. She would never. But she did need to sort her head out before she saw her again.

“Good. That’s good. Maybe tomorrow then,” Amy said, emphasis on maybe. She started to lean in for a kiss, then faltered like she was unsure, so Imogen moved in the rest of the way. There was no way Imogen wasn’t going to kiss her. But it wasn’t like their usual kisses. It felt tentative and unsure.

Oh, God. It felt like goodbye.

Then, without looking away, Imogen watched Amy walk all the way through the car park and into the hotel. Amy turned back about five times to look at Imogen too. Then she gave one final wave before disappearing through the big, gold-framed doors.

Well, that was really fucking hard.

Imogen started the car and sped back to the Wishing Well—she needed her girls.

It was still really early, too early for the pub to open, so she sprinted through the back door and up the stairs and rapped on Piper and Niamh’s apartment door.

A very startled-looking Niamh pulled it open, with Piper standing just behind her holding a lamp.

“What’s the lamp for?”

“What’s the pounding for?”

Imogen walked in and threw herself down onto their sofa with a massive exhale. “Amy and I said I love you.”

Niamh and Piper rushed over to the sofa and squeezed in beside her immediately.

“Oh my God! That’s so great,” Niamh squealed.

“This is fucking massive, Immy.”

Imogen nodded, finally allowing her eyes to fill with tears. “I know. But I think we have to break up.”

“Oh, shit.”

Chapter Fourteen

Throwing herself into work it was then.

It had been five days since that excruciating morning when Amelia had last seen Imogen. Five whole days since the biggest turnaround in human history. They should teach it in schools—that shift. How could you go from one of the happiest moments of your life to one of the crappiest moments in the space of twelve hours? How?

Amelia had never told someone she loved them only to have them pull away before. And she had to admit, it didn’t feel great.

She didn’t say those three words lightly either. Some people threw them around way too easily—but not her. Amelia hadn’t said them very many times in her adult life. Most of her “I love yous” had been during teenage infatuations when she thought she knew about love but really didn’t know a damn thing. Huh. Maybe nothing had changed on that front…

Only it had, and Amelia was pretty sure she did finally know what love was. She also liked to think she was savvy enough to know when someone loved her as well. Or at least could love her. And the more she agonised over every little detail—as was her newest hobby of the last five days—Amelia really did think Imogen loved her. Except somehow everything had gone pear-shaped anyway.

It was bound to happen at some point. Amelia getting recognised. She hadn’t expected it to happen quite so soon, but it had been inescapable because of who she was. And although she wasn’t surprised that Imogen had freaked out about it, she was surprised that it had led to radio silence.

Well, radio silence was an exaggeration. There had been a few texts back and forth. Though they’d been scarce and brief. Surface level how are yous and perfunctory how’s work going? There had also been a grand total of two phone calls that had each lasted less than ten minutes, and they talked around things more than they talked about things. Come to think of it, complete radio silence might have been less confusing.

The party Amelia had stupidly invited Imogen to—another nail in her coffin, she was sure—had come and gone. Amelia had only gone down to show her face as it was compulsory. She had stayed for under an hour before disappearing upstairs and locking herself away in her room again. She liked it there in her hotel room. With her big comfy king-sized bed. And her silence. Far away from people.

But during the days, Amelia’s work had been exemplary. Heartache was great for Amelia’s craft. She was sure happiness was good for it too, but hey, that was harder to come by. Her emotional scenes had been raw and believable. Her romantic scenes had been brimming with the right amount of wistfulness. Today, she would see how she fared with the funny scenes. Amelia knew that her sense of humour was lacking at present, so she hoped all those years of acting coaching would finally start to pay for themselves here.

She was stuck filming a ridiculous scene where she had to chase Bridget through some fields in a golf cart. Amelia had never driven a golf cart in her life. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever held a golf club, let alone visited a course.

Both the director and the executive producer had scoffed at her apprehension and informed her that it was easy. Their exact words had been, “A five-year-old could do it.” Which basically meant Amelia was going to have to suck it up and learn very fast. When she had enquired about using stunt doubles, she had been met with a mixture of laughs and scowls. Neither had been pleasant. Seemingly, the budget didn’t allow for stunt doubles on this movie considering there were very few stunts to be done. Golf carts didn’t count, she was sternly informed.

Of course, to make matters worse, perfect Bridget golfed on the weekends back home. Apparently, she could drive a cart in her sleep. Amelia suspected it was bullshit because from what she knew of Bridget, she undoubtedly had people whose sole purpose was to drive carts for her back home.