Page 11 of Hate You to Love You

‘I did see that review,’ the Hugh Grant lookalike continues. ‘It was a bit of a reach, in my opinion.’

‘But the book is practically a love letter to that movie!’ I reply, frowning.

‘You’re talking about the one with John Cusack and Sandra Bullock, right?’

‘Actually, it’s Kate Beckinsale.’

The Hugh Grant lookalike, who is starting to irritate me, shrugs his shoulders. ‘I can’t stand that movie. Besides, the review was relying way too much on nostalgia.’

‘What’s wrong with Serendipity?’ I ask.

‘Where do I begin?’ he says, shifting to the side of the aisle to let a woman grab a book off the shelf. ‘Its premise is far-fetched, it lacks realism, and it’s entirely structured around plot contrivances and coincidences.’

My frown turns to a scowl. ‘What’s so far-fetched about people falling in love?’

‘Are we expected to believe that some sort of magic brings these two characters back together after so many years apart?’ He’s still smiling at me. A smile that initially seemed charming but is quickly becoming condescending.

‘It’s fate,’ I retort.

‘Right,’ he replies, raising an eyebrow. ‘You can’t rely on fate for story structure. It’s lazy.’

My cheeks heat up with anger. ‘It’s not lazy. It’s a movie that reminds you that sometimes the universe puts you exactly where you need to be.’

The Hugh Grant lookalike winces. ‘So, you’re a romantic?’ There’s a hint of disdain in his voice, as if being a romantic is some kind of crime.

‘You know what? Yes, I am,’ I tell him proudly. ‘I’m sensing you think there’s something wrong with that.’

‘It’s just not a very sensible way to live life.’

I cross my arms. ‘How, exactly?’

He sighs. ‘Just because you see the world through this romantic lens doesn’t mean it’s really like that. Looking at life from that perspective sets you up for disappointment.’

‘But surely you can admit there’s a little bit of magic to be found in every day?’ I reply. ‘It doesn’t have to be as grand as fate or falling in love. It’s about believing that anything can happen. Who wouldn’t want to live life that way?’

Annoying Hugh Grant puts his hands up as if he is surrendering. ‘Look, I didn’t mean to offend you,’ he says. ‘It was just a bad review of the book. The reviewer relied too heavily on the Serendipity comparison instead of critiquing the book on its own terms.’

There it is. The first negative review of my work. While I know that feedback is something I’ll have to get used to if I want to turn writing into a career, hearing this guy slam my work hurts. That review was a piece of my heart that I had finally put out into the world.

‘If that’s how you feel about rom-coms, what made you want to read Fortunate Discovery in the first place?’ I ask, trying to steer the conversation away from my review and back to the book.

‘Oh, I’ve already read it,’ Hugh Grant informs me. His blue eyes have lost a lot of their sparkle since he opened his mouth, and his pine-scented cologne is starting to give me a headache. ‘I’m actually Maggie O’Hara’s publicist,’ he adds.

‘Oh,’ I reply. ‘Really?’

He raises an eyebrow at me, as if I’m supposed to take his word at face value, and as I reach towards the last copy on the shelf, Hugh Grant beats me to it.

‘Hey!’ I exclaim. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Grabbing the book, obviously,’ he replies.

‘I was buying that copy.’

‘Look, Maggie has a big TV interview tomorrow morning and we’re completely out of stock,’ he informs me.

‘Cool story,’ I respond sarcastically. ‘Doesn’t change the fact that I was going for that last copy when you got in my way.’ And it was the gift I was going to give my dad for Christmas. When he saw my review – my first piece of published writing – he was insistent on reading the book too. He was proud of me, and it meant the world.

I try to snatch the book out of Hugh Grant’s hand, but he pulls away just in time.