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“No, I don’t.”
“I like how you try to see the good in people,” Victor remarks softly. “It’s a trait I’ve realized not many people share. People are quick to judge. People like to write others off before they even get to know them.”
I take in a long breath.
“Thank you for this evening,” I say. “I’m truly happy to pay half. I owe you that. It must be expensive.”
I’ll probably just make ramen back at the hotel from now on for the next few weeks if I were to pay my half.
But Victor is already shaking his head.
“I never check my bank accounts, Josie,” Victor replies coldly. “I have a whole team of trusted accountants taking care of all that, but last time I did have a peek, there honestly was more money in there than you could spend in a hundred lifetimes. Let me handle this.”
“You’re sure?” I ask him. I don’t want to be in debt to this man.
“Josie, I’m sure. Let me treat you the way that you deserve.”
34
JOSIE
I’m suddenly overcome with the feeling of... happiness, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve experienced that feeling in a hell of a long time.
And it’s happening just as Victor and I walk back to the fancy hotel from the beautiful terrace restaurant along ancient Italian cobblestone streets - as the actor drapes his jacket around my shoulders because I’m feeling cold.
Happiness.
This is happiness.
I look up at Victor Penmayne. God, he’s so tall. And handsome. The perfect jaw and that pronounced Adam’s apple and that slight hint of a stubble. He’s a perfect package rolled into one.
And he smiles back at me with that irresistible Hollywood smile.
The night sky above us is dark, with only a faint scatter of stars as light. The quiet Italian streets around us are swathed in a faint gold. This is such an enchanted night – of course I’m feeling happy.
Yeah, this is happiness. Me with my fake boyfriend. Happiness is when I can experience what a real relationship might be like... even if for a moment.
“Want some gelato, Josie?” Victor asks.
“Yes,” I reply with a bashful smile. “That would be pretty magical.”
He leads me around the corner to a small hold-in-the-wall gelato place crewed by a cheery old Italian man.
“I’ll buy you one,” Victor whispers to me. “You can have anything you like. Any flavor.”
I know it’s wrong of me to indulge in this little fantasy, but I can’t help myself. I’ve been through so much these last few months. I’m allowed to dream and be happy, if just for a night...
I pick the mint flavor, and the cheery old man hands me the gelato.
And it’s amazing.
Real Italian ice cream, huh?
“How is it?” the actor asks.
I simply nod and grin at him with a mouthful of ice cream.
“I want a lick,” Victor tells me. “It’s my tax. Pay up.”
