The Remarkable Rise of Amanda Appleby by Trish Morey

Author:Trish Morey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9781959988533
Publisher: Tule Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 2023-05-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Jack had barely spoken to her in the car on the way to the airport. He said even less during their flight to Santorini, while he sat with headphones on, bashing away on his laptop and generally ignoring her, while the camera crew behind them were sinking Mythos beer at a furious rate. Amanda was over it.

She’d been manipulated into this. Engineered into this fiasco against her will. And all for what? What was the point if her so-called companion for the next however long wasn’t even going to talk to her?

‘This is never going to work.’

Jack said nothing. He didn’t so much as look her way. Chances were he hadn’t even heard her. But there was one way to fix that. She leaned herself closer and pulled the headphone from his left ear. ‘This is never going to work.’

He jumped, jerking his head so hard in the other direction that the headphones were wrenched from her fingers and smacked into his ear.

He thrust the headphones back behind his neck and rubbed his ear. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘Talking to you. Or at least, trying to talk to you. But you weren’t listening.’

‘I’m trying to work.’

‘If you say so,’ Amanda said. ‘But I want to know what I’m doing here.’

‘You won the contest,’ Jack said. ‘Congratulations.’

‘You know I didn’t. It was rigged. What I want to know is why.’

‘Who says it was rigged? Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with someone a bit feistier than the average Second Time Lucky contestant.’

She snorted. ‘Like hell. You’ve barely said a word to me since we started on this journey. Be honest, you can’t stand me and I can’t stand you.’

His nostrils flared. ‘Nice of you to lay it on the line so succinctly.’

‘It’s only the truth. So what am I doing here, with you and this beer-swilling crew sitting behind us who are supposed to be getting footage of us enjoying the sights and sounds of Santorini—if they ever sober up, that is—when you can’t even bother to talk to me? What kind of footage are they going to get?’

‘Snippets,’ he said, without bothering to dispute her claims. ‘All they need is a few seconds of footage and then they’ll be going home. They just need a few grabs—like us getting off the plane, smiling as we set foot on Santorini. The two of us showing off our posh cave apartments. Us watching Oia’s oh-so-romantic sunset. That’s all they need.’

‘Filming me glaring at you and you glaring at me.’

‘I’m sure you can put your distaste for me aside for just a few seconds and pretend that you’re enjoying yourself. They’ll be gone as soon as they’ve got the takes they need. Try to be a good girl and soon you can go back to being your usual grumpy self.’

‘I am not usually grumpy.’

It was his turn to snort. ‘If you say so.’

‘I’m only grumpy when I’m being forced to do something that I don’t want to do.’

‘Is that right? You’ll have to excuse me in that case.

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