Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
There is another thing I keep behind the scenes from Tiffany, too. Another piece of news that came from the sidelines, unexpected.
Josh’s sister, Carly, is pregnant.
She revealed the news to us last night over dinner, and she was so happy. So crazy happy that it made me cry.
Josh is going to be an uncle, and I’m going to be kind of an aunt. And who knows what that kind of baby exposure will lead to?
Will I want to be a mum myself, and watch Josh blossom into being a dad?
One day, yeah, for sure. Me and Josh, for ever. But what about Heath? What about clients?
What if, what if, what if?
My mind cycles so fast, I even try out Josh’s meditation cushion to get some clear thoughts, but it makes no odds. I’m still a mash of emotions with no release valve.
By the time the morning of the proposal comes around, I legit have jittery fingers, I’m such a fidget. I eat breakfast with Josh and try to play it down, but he clocks it in a heartbeat. He takes my hand and stills my shakes as he passes me the tomato ketchup for my bacon sandwich.
“It’s gonna be ok,” he tells me. “Whatever happens tonight, baby, it’ll be ok. Heath isn’t going away, no matter what normal looks like. Any kind of normal for us has him in it.”
It always will. That’s what I want him to add. But he doesn’t.
There have been more pictures of Heath online with the real-life Polly Anna in the show, with speculation they are more than coworkers outside of it. I’m pretty sure it’s click bait bullshit, but I can’t help but wonder how I’d feel if it wasn’t. If Heath settled down, in love with someone else and waved goodbye to being a client for good. I wonder how Josh would feel. How it would wrack his insides with loss whenever he thought back to the love we shared.
Yet more what fucking ifs to be stewing over.
I’d be happy for Heath, no matter what his road looked like, but I’d be so fucking sad for us.
“I still don’t know what the hell normal means, I really don’t,” I say to Josh as I pull up my stockings, ready to get going. No pale blue hoodie for me this evening. “I’ve been thinking it through from every angle there could be, and I still have no bloody idea.” I sigh in frustration. “I just wish I had a clear head about it. A definite plan. Some common sense or inner wisdom or divine guidance from the heavens above.”
I watch Josh put his jacket on, wondering how he’s feeling on the inside. I get the tiniest glimpse of nerves in his eyes, despite his confident smile.
“We’ll work it out, all three of us,” my boyfriend says. “Three heads are better than one.”
“Are you bringing your laptop so we can draw up a PowerPoint presentation?”
He kisses my forehead.
“I’ll save that for meetup number three, if we can’t get our shit together. We can all have a go with the talking spoon on session two.”
“Get a mediator in, if it comes to it.”
“How about Vinnie Hampton, the soul mentor? He should do the trick.”
We both laugh together, tension easing.
“Fuck all the brain churning bullshit, I can’t wait to see Heathy baby,” I say to Josh. “Vinnie Hampton is amazing, but Heath is better than amazing. He’s amazing in a whole other league.”
“And it’s time to go see Mr Amazing, luckily,” Josh replies. “Hopefully we can get some amazing ideas on the table between us and get this new kind of normal started, whatever it looks like. It’s long overdue.”
Yes. It is.
I may be a big bag of jitters when the cab arrives, but my heart is soaring when we pull away from Belgravia.
One night with Heath is worth more than a million words, so a whole new normal with him…
That would be worth anything.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
User 1543. Male. 34.
Normal.
Whatever normal means.
Duration: All night long.
Proposal price: £10, and bring your own bottle of De Chante.
Iread Heath’s proposal in the cab again on the way down to Southampton, and it makes me smirk through the jitters. We’re off to another random hotel overlooking the docks. Hardly a Cannes adventure, but it’s ok. It’s by the sea this time, at least. Maidstone wasn’t exactly a tourist landmark.
Josh has the bottle of De Chante on the seat between us, wrapped up in purple gift paper with a big silver bow on the top of the cork. He was so proud of himself when he positioned it there.
At least it’s got a decent head on it.
Our expensive purple bowed champers cost a small fortune, but Josh insisted on abiding to the proposal to the letter. Even the fee remained the same.
Ten quid for a whole night session is hilarious, but if this is the new normal, Heath is more than welcome to it. The Agency might get pissed off at the lack of commission on his bookings, but I’m sure Orla could handle it. Especially with Vinnie Hampton coming onboard as a new client.