Page 11 of The Hampton Beach Café 5
“Come on,” Clarkson said. “No, and it doesn’t have to be some big lie… we’ll just go out and have some fun. Kennedy and I are together, people will assume!”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Alex said, surprising her. “It’s not like it would be scandalous for us to be out together, right? Your divorce was final before you even came here and I’m a confirmed bachelor.”
Lucinda piped up.
“If it stops these weirdos harassing you, then surely you can suffer through a few nights out with this strapping young lad?” She leaned in and pinched Alex’s face. “Look at him. He’s adorable.”
“Get off,” Alex said, laughing and swatting at Lucinda’s hand.
It really was great seeing Lucinda relaxed and joking around again, she seemed to be doing so much better these days, and she wasn’t wrong. Alex was pretty damn adorable…
“Fine,” Frances said. “Let's do it.”
What? No! Had she said that out loud… she had, hadn’t she?
Lucinda looked particularly proud of herself, but Frances couldn't help but feel like this whole thing was just going to make things even more complicated––and kind of like she was going to be sick. She should back out of this right now. Although… she’d never admit it aloud, but she couldn't deny that she was curious to see how it would all play out. She glanced over at Alex. She hadn’t felt that curling electrical buzz of excitement in her stomach in forever.
Actually, she realized that wasn’t true. She hadn’t felt it since that day in the kitchen when she was so sure Alex was going to kiss her…
“Let’s start now,” Kennedy said, placing her coffee cup down on the table. “We’ll take a snap and pop some casual hashtags on it. People will speculate.”
Frances' heart raced. She wasn't sure if she was ready. Surely they should think about this a little more? As usual, though, Kennedy seemed to be taking charge of the situation.
Kennedy had already pulled out her phone and was suggesting they use a certain filter to make the photo look more cohesive with the rest of Clarkson’s feed––which was more curated than most, so it had to match. Frances and Alex both looked at each other hesitantly, not quite sure what to do. Clarkson positioned himself to be the one who snapped the shot.
“Actually,” he said suddenly. “Ken, you come on this side, sit in the middle with Frances.”
“Why?” Kennedy asked, looking up at him and pouting.
“Because can you imagine the backlash if I put up a photo with coupley nonsense and I’m next to Frances in the middle?” he said, eyebrows raised.
“Oh,” she said. “Good point.”
She stood so she and Clarkson could swap seats. It was a good point, Frances admitted, but the saccharine sweetness of Kennedy’s tone with Clarkson made her cringe slightly.
“Come on, guys, look like you're having fun!” he said, prompting Alex to scoot closer to Frances and put his arm around her.
Frances blushed, feeling the butterflies in her stomach intensify. She wasn't used to this kind of attention… especially from Alex of all people––and it was all happening so fast.
Alex leaned in and whispered in her ear, placing his chin on her shoulder. “You look terrified. People are going to think I’ve taken you hostage if you keep that up.”
His warm breath on her neck tickled and made her shiver. She laughed, though, and turned her head to look at him. He always knew exactly how to break her out of her own head. Frances saw his warm smile, looking up at her. His eyes filled with a playful light that she absolutely loved to see. It reminded her of when they were teenagers sneaking out to go to the beach or on their long walks. The butterflies in her stomach stopped suddenly, and she felt a low, warm hum growing in their place.
“Amazing work…” Clarkson said, “…that’ll make a great double shot.”
Snapped out of it by Clarkson’s businesslike candor, she turned to see that he and Kennedy were flicking through the several shots he’d apparently taken.
“Maybe these will get those fans to back off,” he said, “hashtag power couple, hashtag couple goals, hashtag double.”
“You say that like they’re not your fans,” Lucinda said pointedly.
Clarkson looked over at her and replied in an equally pointed––yet purposefully polite––tone. “True, I guess I find it hard to take ownership of the fact people who call themselves fans of mine are trying really hard to make mine and my friends' lives harder.”
Lucinda shrugged, her way of conceding the point.
“Further to this little plan…” Clarkson continued, “…I can wrangle a few extra tickets to something of a shindig the day after tomorrow. If we're all seen having a great time together…”
Frances wasn't sure if she was ready for that level of public exposure… or that long spent on Alex’s arm pretending to date, but Lucinda was already nodding in agreement on her behalf. How much of her life these days was spent agreeing to things and doing things because other people agreed with her?
