Read Gamble on Engagement Online

Authors: Rachel Astor

Tags: #mcmaster the disaster, #celebrity, #engagement, #paparazzi, #bridesmaid, #diary, #movie star, #wedding, #london, #scandal, #disaster diary

Gamble on Engagement (17 page)

BOOK: Gamble on Engagement
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I pounded back the rest of my cappuccino—if
I was going to do this I was going to have to have as much caffeine
in me as possible—and went to my room to get ready.

Which was not going to be an easy task.

I settled on a dark blond wig that would be
easy to style into a ponytail. I did not want a bunch of hair
whipping into my face while I was hurtling down a river of waves
that could potentially take my life. Okay, maybe that was a little
dramatic, I’m sure the instructors would be extra careful with the
newbies, but still, things could happen, right?

Then was the outfit. I mean, I guess a
person wore athletic equipment for rafting, but did they like, wear
a bathing suit under it? I had no idea. I mean, I was going to get
wet, right? And there might even be lounging time where the
waterproof jacket I’d planned on would be a bit too warm. I figured
I’d rather be safe than sorry and put on an athletic looking bikini
before I added a sweat wicking t-shirt and shorts and the outer
layer of the waterproof pants and jacket.

I was ready for anything. Well, you know,
anything that required waterproofing anyway.

All I could do now was hope that the little
helmets they gave you would help keep the wig firmly in place. I
mean, I didn’t expect there to be a whole throng of paparazzi out
on a white water rafting river or anything, but if there was one
thing that was certain, you just never knew with those guys.

 

~~~

 

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I screamed as
we plunged down the river.

And that was exactly the right word too,
plunged. At first, the ride had been kind of nice, like we were
floating gently down a stream, getting used to how to paddle. Then
all of a sudden, it was like a plunger had unclogged the drain of
the river and we were sailing at a speed that could never have been
considered normal.

The only solace was that Leo was screaming
just as loudly as me.

Oh, and that the instructors were definitely
laughing harder at him than they were at me. Leo had been right,
the paparazzi had somehow pegged him to be a daredevil, and he was
bound and determined to prove them right.

It’s just too bad he totally wasn’t.

And I had to say, Leo was not good at
pretending. If my scream were that of a frightened lady, his was
closer to that of a five-year-old girl. A very terrified, and very
high pitched five-year-old girl.

I was guessing that he’d prefer that I leave
that part of it out of the autobiography.

I screamed again as we rolled over what
appeared to be a full-fledged waterfall, though the instructors
were calling it, and I quote, “a bit of a dip.” I wanted nothing
more than to scream at them to “dip this, a-hole,” but a girl must
try to remain in control at all times, right?

Well, even though I was very far from in
control (and wasn’t even sure if I was in control of my bladder
anymore), I tried my best to look at least slightly less terrified
than Leo as we hurtled away for what seemed like hours, but when we
were done and my shaky legs somehow pulled me out of the boat of
terror, they told us it had only been about twenty minutes. And
here I thought being terrified for your life was supposed to make
time go faster.

“That was fantastic,” Leo said, but I wasn’t
sure who he was trying to convince, because there was not an ounce
of sincerity or excitement in his voice.

He fell to the ground, and I couldn’t be
sure, but he may have even kissed the ground.

Eventually, I helped pull him up. The
instructors seemed like they were getting seriously antsy to get
their equipment off us and just get the hell out of there, since,
you know, we’d probably been sitting there for as long as our ride
had been already. Even after that much time had passed, Leo was
still visibly shaking as he tried his best to remove the gear.

“We’ll have to do that again sometime,” he
said, and smiled as best as he could, waving to the guys as they
dropped us back of at the start where our car was parked.

The rafting dudes didn’t even bother
humoring him, just shook their heads and chuckled a little.

They knew there was no way in hell Leo would
ever be back.

 

~~~

 

The next few weeks were a total blur. Skydiving was
something of a ‘life flashing before my eyes’ kind of deal and
bungee jumping was almost worse, if you can believe that. Something
about a jagged, rocky ground with a tiny stream running through it,
plunging up at you faster than you can even close your eyes, seemed
a bit at odds with, you know, living.

But somehow we made it through. Leo was
pretty much as terrified as a person could be, but he’d get up
every morning with a renewed sense of adventure, and apparently, a
renewed sense of suicidal madness in the form of zip lining and
rock climbing.

The indoor surfing was actually kind of fun,
probably because even though it was totally grueling and I fell
about a million times, it was highly unlikely that I was going to
drown in the two feet of water below me. And actually, though I
hated to admit it, the skeet shooting was enormously entertaining
too, especially when I started to actually get the hang of it and
those little disk thingies began to explode with every shot.

It was so much more satisfying than I
thought it would be.

The days went by in a blur of scarfing
energy drinks and high carb food, just so we could make it through
each day of fear and adrenaline. I had to get up even earlier than
Leo most mornings, just to get a stupid disguise on. Sure, dressing
up had been fun the first couple times, but it was really starting
to weigh on me. And you could not believe how itchy the damned wigs
were when you got a little sweat or water underneath them. And let
me tell you, it is not easy to keep a wig in place while zinging
upside down to your almost death.

Or on a zip line.

Or when you fall below the water on a
spectacular wipeout during a surf lesson.

Not to mention the carnival day where Leo
insisted we ride only the scariest, highest, fastest, most vomit
inducing rides. For like, five hours straight.

I had sore muscles where I didn’t even know
I had muscles. Bruises speckled my legs and I had an impressive
scrape on my right elbow from the steep hill mountain biking Leo
decided was a must try. One thing I learned—the hard way—was that
elbow pads only protect your elbows if they stay where they’re
meant to, not if you go careening head first with your arms out in
front of you and the pads slide all the way up to your armpits.

Come to think of it, even my armpits were
hurting from the impact of the hard plastic.

I’d never been on so many helicopter rides
to get from destination to destination in my life. Okay, I’d never
been on a helicopter ride before those days, and that was perhaps
the most enjoyable part of the whole thing.

“Leo,” I said after I’d shed my gear from
that day’s scuba excursion to Dorset. “Do you think we could have a
day or two off so I can get some of the book down while it’s still
fresh in my memory?”

He looked at me, surprised.

“Haven’t you been writing all along?”

I couldn’t help but wonder if steam was
starting to seep out of my ears or not. “Let me ask you this,” I
said. “Each night when you came back from doing all this… stuff.
What did you do?”

He shrugged. “I was tired. I crashed.”

“Exactly. So since I was doing all the same
things as you, wouldn’t it stand to reason that I might not have a
whole lot of brain power left at the end of the day, not to mention
every inch of my body is killing me, including my hands, which I
kind of need for typing, by the way. When in the world did you
think I was going to find time to write it all down?”

Leo looked at me, apparently a little
surprised that I had such an attitude in me.

But seriously, give a girl a break. I. Was.
Tired.

“Uh, sure,” he finally said. “I guess I
could use a couple of days off too. Spend a little time in the hot
tub.”

You do that, I thought bitterly. You sped
two days in a hot tub soaking your sore muscles while I slave away
at the computer writing your life story.

Honestly, if not for the deadline looming
way too close, I would have wished that the three months of working
with Leo was over already.

I crashed hard that night, knowing, for once
in what seemed like forever, I didn’t have to get up at the crack
of dawn to put on a thick layer of makeup and some ridiculous new
hair. Unfortunately, my body apparently had to catch up on its
sleep since, without the alarm, I slept in until two in the
afternoon. Sheesh I hadn’t done that since I was a teenager.

There were only two weeks left and I had
approximately five pages written on the God forsaken thing.

How in the hell was I ever going to
finish?

There was only one solution. Lock myself in
my room and only take breaks for food and the washroom.

I should have known not to answer my
phone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~ 15 ~

 

“Josie?” the voice on the other end said through
stuttery sobs.

I had absolutely no idea who it was. “Yeah?
Hello?”

More sobbing on the other end. “Josie, it’s
Jen.”

“Oh my God, Jen. What’s wrong? Where are
you?”

“I came… to the UK… to see… Dave…” she said,
fighting the sobs, which was very weird since Jennifer was one of
the toughest people I knew.

I mean, I guess I hadn’t known my new
roommate for all that long, but if you’d have told me yesterday
that she would call sobbing, I would have told you all your marbles
had rolled right on down the sewer drain.

“Jen, slow down,” I said. “It’s okay, just
stay calm and tell me what happened.”

She took several gulps of air, taking a
minute to compose herself. Finally she started, talking almost
normally. “Okay,” another deep breath. “I came over here to see
Dave, and there was something I wanted to tell him, you know, some
big news. And well, he didn’t take it very well.”

Okay, now I was really confused. “Okay, so…
what was the big news?”

Jennifer promptly started bawling all over
again. “Josie, I totally screwed up. Like I really screwed up big
time.”

“Come on Jen, you’re one of the most level
headed people I know, it can’t be that bad.”

But I’m not even sure if she heard me, what
with all the wailing and stuff.

“I’m… I’m…I’m pregnant,” she said, the last
word leading into the longest, most drawn out sob of them all.

Oh. My. God. I was completely speechless.
But I had to say something. “Jen, Jen, it’s okay. Just tell me
where you are.”

“I don’t know, The… the Knightsbridge Hotel,
I think.”

“Okay, I’m getting in a cab right now. I’ll
be there as quick as I can.”

She didn’t answer. Just started crying some
more. I didn’t know whether I should stay there and wait until she
was composed enough to say goodbye, or just hang up and get there
as fast as I could.

I decided on the latter. I was no good to
Jen on the phone, she needed someone with her, like yesterday.

Goddamn Dave, how on Earth could he leave
her when she was that much of a disaster?

It seemed to take forever to get to her. All
I could do was imagine what it must be like to be in that
situation. I mean, a baby? It was almost unfathomable. How was Jen
supposed to look after a baby on her own? I mean, Dave had money of
course, being a successful actor—God, I began to curse the fact
that it was because of Jake that he and Jen even met—so that might
not be as much of an issue as it would be for some single parents,
but still, Jen had a great career, would they just let her take the
time off that she needed in order to raise a baby?

Cripes, a million thoughts were scrolling
through my head like a newsfeed line gone haywire… I could only
imagine what Jen was going through.

What a mess.

I wanted to phone Jake right then and there
and tell him he couldn’t be friends with Dave anymore. I don’t care
how much fun they’d had when they filmed that movie together. Dave
was an asshole.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Jen said when I
arrived, and bowled me over in a giant, teary hug. “What would I
have done in England all by myself?” she wailed.

After the hug, the first thing I did was
order ice cream from room service. Everything was always better
with ice cream.

When Jen calmed down a bit, I couldn’t help
but ask, “How did this even happen?”

“I don’t know,” she said, throwing her arms
up. “It had to have been the night of the wedding or
something.”

I blinked. First of all, that was the night
they met and I couldn’t help but be a little surprised that things
had gotten to that point so quickly. On the other hand, Jen was a
big girl and could do whatever she wanted.

She gulped another breath. “I’d just had so
much to drink, and so did Dave, and well, one thing led to another
and we probably weren’t as careful as we should have been…”

I nodded, thinking probably? But didn’t say
anything. It was too late to do anything about it now.

“So, Dave’s not happy about it, I take
it.”

Jen let out a humorless chuckle. “No, I
would say he’s not. He wants me to get rid of it.”

My eyes flew open wide. “That’s what he
said? Get rid of it?”

“No, not exactly. He just said it was up to
me, he’d support whatever decision I made.”

“Oh, okay, well, that’s not so bad, is
it?”

“I wanted him to be happy. To be ecstatic.
To be… something other than indifferent.”

“Yeah,” I said, realizing I would probably
expect the same thing. I mean, at least the guy could pretend to be
happy, even if he was caught a bit off guard. “So he doesn’t want
to help with the baby?”

BOOK: Gamble on Engagement
10.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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