Page 17 of The Wedding Pact

He leans a little closer and fixes me with his bright-eyed gaze, sending a shiver of awareness through me. ‘Well, I’m glad to hear it’s mutually beneficial. It’s actually one of the few countries I’ve not visited, so I’m excited to see it too.’

‘Really? Wow. So you’ve travelled a lot?’

‘Yeah. There were a few years between sixth form and university where I travelled and worked my way around the world.’

‘What kind of jobs did you do?’ I ask, intrigued.

‘All sorts. Bar work, farm work, admin, telesales. I even sold hats on the beach for a while. That was hard work, especially in the midday sun.’

‘So you’re a real Jack of all trades, huh?’

‘I’d like to think I’m multi-talented, yes,’ he says, with a twinkle in his eye.

The bottom drops out of my stomach as my dirty mind goes straight to all the sex-related things he’s probably really talented at too and I have to break eye contact and reach for the glass of champagne I was given by a smiling flight attendant the moment we sat down. I’m not good at disguising my feelings, never have been. I blush really easily.

Raffa doesn’t seem to notice though, at least he doesn’t say anything, and when I put my glass back down after taking a big gulp of the fizzy liquid – making my eyes water in the process – and look at him again he’s staring down at his mobile phone.

‘It looks like I’ve missed a call from Darian,’ he says, frowning. ‘Oh well, he’ll just have to deal with any crisis without me.’

‘Darian’s your brother?’

‘Stepbrother, yeah.’

‘And he’s marrying Margot?’

‘Yeah. She’s great. You’ll like her. Everyone does.’

‘And what are your parents’ names?’

‘Good point. You should probably know these things before you meet them,’ Raffa says, slapping his hand gently against his forehead. ‘My dad’s name is Gianni and my stepmum is called Carrie.’

‘Gianni and Carrie. Darian and Margot. Right. Locking those names in.’

He smiles at me. ‘Again, thank you for doing this. It’s a lot, I know.’

‘My pleasure,’ I say, really meaning it. It’s not exactly going to be a hardship spending time with him. I already know we click personality-wise from our online chats and, as previously mentioned, he’s not exactly hard on the eye.

But more than that, I genuinely like him and want to help him out as a friend.

There’s a crackle, then the pilot’s voice comes over the tannoy telling us we’re about to take off and requesting that we please put on our seatbelts.

We both do as he asks and I stare out of the window as we taxi down the runway, then pick up speed and lift into the air, the ground falling away from us, making my stomach swoop with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

After what he’s told me, I’m completely intrigued by Raffa’s background, and very much looking forward to meeting this family he’s so keen to avoid being left alone with. I hope I’ll be able to get some more information out of him about what’s gone down between them all. I don’t want to put my foot in it and give anyone in the wedding party a bad impression of me. Reputation is so important when you’re trying to build, then maintain, a fanbase online. It’s way too easy to be cancelled now for a perceived bad attitude – particularly if you’re a woman.

And to be totally honest, I like to be liked.

We’ve not been in the air long before the flight attendant comes into the cabin and starts talking to us both about the food and drinks that they can offer us during the flight. My stomach starts to rumble as she lists the amazing-sounding meals we’ll be able to choose from. I ask her a couple of questions about the options available and when she finally goes away to fix us the drinks we’ve ordered, I notice Raffa has opened his laptop and is already typing fast onto the keyboard, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

I clear my throat, hoping to gently remind him that I’m here with him.

He glances at me distractedly, his mind clearly still on what he’s typing.

‘You okay there?’ he asks, but not with any real interest this time.

I open my mouth to continue with my questions, then decide right now is probably not the right time. So I say, ‘I’m good.’ And press my lips into a smile.

Seeming to intuit he’s being a bit offhand with me, he flashes me an apologetic smile and turns his laptop screen momentarily towards me, showing me a dense-looking wordy document. ‘Sorry not to be able to give you my full attention, but I’ve got some incredibly boring, but unfortunately important, contracts to read before we land in the Maldives so I can fire back my responses before the wedding festivities start. So if it’s not too antisocial, I’m going to get my head into it now and we can chat again once we’re at the hotel. There should be a good selection of movies and shows to watch during the flight and if you want anything to eat or drink just ask one of the cabin crew. In fact, if you want anything at all, just ask.’ His tone is friendly, but authoritative, and I decide to keep my mouth shut about how it is actually a bit antisocial, considering I’m technically his guest. I can see he’s not in the mood to chat any more right now though and I’ll have plenty of time when we’re there to grill him again.