Page 49 of Never Date a Celebrity

The ache in Imogen’s chest deepened.

“For what it’s worth,” Amy said quietly, “I am so deeply sorry, Imogen. More sorry than I know how to say.”

Imogen searched Amy’s face and all she could see was sincerity and regret. The strange thing was, she believed her. She believed that Amy meant every word that she was saying. But did that make any of it better? Did it make her trustworthy? Imogen honestly didn’t know.

When she tried to put herself in Amy’s shoes, she could understand some of it. Imogen might be a little clueless over who’s who in that whole world, but even she knew that being famous probably made it difficult to trust people. Difficult to know who genuinely liked you for you. Difficult to have any real privacy at all.

Maybe Imogen was mad, but… “It’s okay,” she said after a few beats. And she found that she really meant it.

Amy gaped at her like she couldn’t believe her ears. “It’s okay?” she repeated.

“Yeah.” Maybe she was gullible, or soft, or both, but Amy’s explanation made sense to her. She still felt like an idiot, and she didn’t love that she’d been lied to, but she could see how it had happened. And her feelings about being in the public eye hadn’t made it any easier for Amy to come clean. “I accept your apology.”

“Just like that?”

Imogen smiled. “It’s almost as if you don’t want me to forgive you.”

Amy touched Imogen’s arm. “No, I do. I really do. I’m just surprised is all. I thought you were going to throw me out of your bar to be honest. Deservedly so, might I add. I would never have blamed you.”

“Not today.” Imogen lifted a shoulder. There didn’t have to be any hard feelings. “It’s better to find out now than further down the road, right? At least we only went on a couple of dates.”

“Right.” Amy looked down at where her hand still lingered on Imogen’s forearm. “But do you think there could be a further down the road for us? Beyond those two dates?”

“Amy, I…” Imogen froze. She hadn’t really considered what came next, but she had been working on the assumption that they were done. She wasn’t happy about it, and she would probably fall apart over it later, but who Amy was had changed everything. “How can there be?”

“Very easily. Why can’t there be?” Amy countered.

“You know why, Amy. I told you that I would never date someone else who was in the spotlight. Never. No exceptions.” The very thought of it nearly sent her into a panic.

“Imogen, please—”

“No. I can’t.” She pulled her arm away because the second Amy touched her, all her resolve started slipping. It wasn’t like she could just switch off her feelings, but she also couldn’t do this. “I don’t want people writing about me, or taking pictures of me, or plastering their opinions of me all over the internet. I’m not built for it, I’m not strong enough. And you’re a fucking megastar, for crying out loud. The scrutiny that I faced before would be multiplied by a million.” She shook her head. “If things were different, then maybe we could have got past this and worked things out, but they’re not, so…” She trailed off, not knowing what else she could say. Amy had known this was how it would end. It was one of the main reasons she’d kept her secret for so long.

“You know that none of those people matter, don’t you? It’s all just noise. After a while, you learn to block it out.”

Imogen disagreed. “You can block it out. I’d rather just avoid it altogether and hold onto my quiet existence.” She still remembered what it had felt like the last time thousands of strangers had decided who she was without ever actually knowing her.

“So, that’s it?” Amy said quietly.

Imogen’s heart squeezed. “What else can there be?” Her voice faltered and she looked away. This was harder than she’d expected it to be. It wasn’t like she and Amy had known each other for long. Yet, it felt like she was breaking something off that had lasted a year.

Amy studied her, then gave a nod of acceptance. “Okay. You’re right.” She took a breath and gave Imogen a smile that was obviously forced. “I had a really great time with you, Imogen. I’ll look back on you and this place with nothing but fondness.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Imogen swallowed. “I’ll think of you the same way. No hard feelings about what happened. I promise. I’ll even go see your film when it comes out.” She wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but it felt like a nice thing to say. Could she sit and watch Amy on a screen for two hours and feel anything other than sadness? Probably not.

Amy lingered for a few more seconds, then pushed herself up off the chair. “You take care of yourself, okay?” She glanced around. “This place is going to be great. I just know it.”

“Thank you,” Imogen said almost in a whisper. She closed her eyes. It was taking everything she had to hold it together now. “Good luck with everything.”

She couldn’t bear to watch as Amy started to walk away, out of the bar, and out of her life. All she could hear was the tapping of Amy’s heels against the wooden floor, which faded more and more with each step she took.

But then they started to get louder again. Faster too. Imogen opened her eyes to see Amy walking back toward her with purpose.

“We can’t end things like this,” Amy said when she reached the table. “We just can’t, Imogen.”

Imogen felt her heart skip even though it was hopeless. “But I told you I can’t date you anymore. It’s not you, it’s me.” She cringed both inwardly and outwardly because had she really just said that?

“Does that mean that we can’t be friends?” Amy asked, ignoring the cliché. Gone was the broken, tearful Amy, and in her place was a woman on a mission. It seemed that she wasn’t going to let Imogen go without a fight.