The Wedding Date

Here Goes Nothing

"You're meeting him at the airport?" Amy asked, her voice dubious, as she watched Dianne wrestle with the giant red suitcase she'd filled to the brim.

"Yes," Dianne replied, her voice short. "Don't start with me, Ames."

Amy smirked, leaning over to help her lift the insanely heavy bag off the bed.

"He had to get his visa and everything organized, and we had the Strictly finale, and then all the media stuff and we just...couldn't find a time to meet last week," Dianne spoke quickly, tugging the bag out behind her into the hall as she tried to make a mental checklist for everything she'd need for a 3 week trip to Australia.

She'd be staying after the wedding of course, to spend Christmas and New Year's Eve with her family. Her mysterious male escort would be returning to the UK before the holidays...which was something she hadn't shared with her family, and yet another issue swirling around in her mind in addition to the hundreds of other worries and stresses that seemed to accompany lying to her entire family and bringing a fake boyfriend across the world.

"Have you talked more at least?" Amy asked, as Dianne dragged the bag behind her.

"Once or twice," she shrugged in response. Noticing Amy's raised eyebrows, she added, "I mean we've texted too..."

"Do you like him?"

Dianne shrugged, unsure how to answer, "I barely know him."

"Well I'm going to need daily updates," Amy grinned as Dianne shrugged on her coat, checking the time again. "And a photo of him. Like...as soon as you meet him, please. I'm guessing he'll be tall, dark and handsome. What do you think? What did his voice sounds like—"

"Oh my God, Amy, I don't know! I don't even know what he looks like," Dianne exclaimed, the full extent of what she was about do hitting her square in the face. "What am I DOING?"

"Taking a chance," Amy recovered from the outburst after a beat, wrapping up the redhead in a tight embrace before gently pushing her toward the door. "I'm telling you, Di. It's going to be good. Try to relax and enjoy it."

---

Dianne got to the airport a bit later than anticipated, which was par for the course in her scattered life. Though this time, her habitual lateness had effectively distracted her from her own reality, and she didn't even think about the mystery man she'd be flying with until she had fumbled through checking her bag, made it through security, and purchased a bottle of water and the appropriate snacks for a 17 hour flight.

Instead of relaxing as she arrived at her gate, her heart rate increased as she gazed around the many faces waiting for the non-stop flight to Perth she'd splurged on buying the week before. After booking Joe, she'd managed to trade in her single business class ticket she'd been saving up for months, for two economy seats - unfortunately in the last row of the plane.

"VIP status my arse," she muttered, thinking back to the star service she'd received from the escort agency, and here she was, forcing their escort to fly next to a toilet for 17 hours.

"Dianne Buswell? We're looking for Dianne Buswell. Please come to Gate 1380. Dianne Buswell, to Gate 1380."

Jumping at the sound of her name over the loud speaker, she glanced around nervously before edging her way through the crowd toward the desk where two airline associates were standing.

"Dianne?" a gruff woman in uniform made eye contact with her, gesturing for her to approach the desk.

"Buswell?" she asked again, and Dianne nodded, her mouth feeling dry.