Chapter Six
Alice
When I arrive at work on Monday morning, I’m still shell-shocked from how much I spent on a dress on Saturday. If Mum ever found out she’d be horrified, and I feel awful keeping it a secret from her, but like Hannah says I can always sell it afterward to make back some of the money.
Or I can just keep it, as an expensive memento of my Cinderella moment.
There’s no way I’m ever going to sell that dress. It’s a swirl of blues, and even in the high-heeled sandals I bought, the hem still sweeps the floor. Somehow the sweetheart neckline and slightly ruched bodice even manages to make me look as though I have a decent pair of boobs, although the push-up bra probably has something to do with that, too.
“Hey, Alice.” Di strolls over to me, a takeaway cup in one hand and with a strangely wide grin on her face.
“Hey yourself.” Although Di’s always cheerful, there’s definitely something going on. “Good weekend?” She and Joe, after locking horns for four months solid, suddenly realized they were soulmates and have been inseparable for the last three weeks. Maybe they took things to the next level?
“What? Oh yes, great. Well, total TWD, so it was awesome. Sooo…” Di bumps shoulders with me. “You and Harry, then. Next Saturday.”
Oh fuck. The Walking Dead marathon Harry held over the weekend. Was I the topic of conversation? My face heats, and not in a barely noticeable way, either. It’s as though I’ve just stepped into a furnace, and I resist the overpowering urge to wince. It’s ridiculous, since by now everyone knows Harry asked me to accompany him, and the only one who harbors any delusions that it’s more than a simple work thing is me.
So why is Di smiling like that, then? Please don’t let her have guessed how much I like him. She wouldn’t have told Joe, would she?
“Um, yes. He and Caleb seem to think he needs a fake date to keep him safe.”
Fuck. Why did I use the D word? Talk about a Freudian slip. Hopefully she didn’t notice.
“Take my advice. Forget about the fake part; otherwise, no one’s going to fall for it.”
I’ve always got on well with Di, but for the first time I don’t have any idea what to say to her. I’m not even sure what she’s implying. That the date should be real? Maybe the safest thing is to simply agree with her.
“Hmm, yes.” I give a little laugh for good measure, but it grates on my nerves, so God knows how it sounded to her. “Well, catch you later.”
I escape upstairs and collapse on the chair in my office. I can’t run away every time anyone mentions Saturday night, it’ll look too suspicious. As my laptop boots up, I chance a glance through the glass wall to see if Harry’s in his office yet.
Apparently not. I cup my chin on my hand and scroll through a heap of emails, but I can’t concentrate on anything. Is he avoiding me? Why would he do that? It was his idea to ask me to go with him. Has he changed his mind?
And then he strolls into my office—glasses pushed on top of his tousled hair—and gives me his usual grin as though nothing’s changed. “Morning.”
Nothing has changed. It’s just a work function. If only I didn’t keep forgetting that.
“Thanks,” I respond as he hands me a Java chip frap. Our fingers don’t touch. Was that by accident or design on his part?
I take a hasty sip of my drink before I say something stupid.
“I’ll pick you up at six thirty on Saturday.” As he makes that announcement, he parks his gorgeous butt on the edge of my desk, and it takes a couple of seconds to process his comment.
“Oh, right. I better give you the address.” I grab a pen and pad.
“I know where you live.”
“Yes, but I’m getting ready at a friend’s house.” Actually, it’s Hannah’s oldest brother Martin’s place. He got married last year, and his wife, Sherri, is not only lovely but a qualified beautician, and she’s offered to do my makeup.
Harry takes my note and glances at the address. “Okay.”
I’m relieved he didn’t ask me why I wouldn’t be leaving from home, but then again why would he? “Don’t forget you need to write a speech.”
“I’m working on it.” He sounds resigned. “It’s shit.”
“When you’ve finished, I’ll have a look over it, if you want.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” He smiles, and his dimples just about kill me. How am I going to keep it together on Saturday night if he focuses all that adorable charm my way?
...
“Good luck for Harry tonight,” Mum says as I hover at the front door on Saturday lunchtime. “Tell him I hope he wins the Geek of the Year award.”
Yeah, I might’ve accidentally on purpose not told Mum the full title of the award that Harry’s up for. Stupid, really, but I’m paranoid she’ll somehow guess how I feel about him, and I don’t want her worrying that I’m getting distracted when I’m off to university at the end of the month. “Thanks. I’ll tell him.”
“Now, are you sure you don’t want me to give you a lift to where you’re meeting him? It’s no trouble. My shift doesn’t start until this afternoon, and I said I’d pick Brian up on the way.”
“Honestly, it’s fine. Hannah doesn’t mind giving me a lift.” It’s at times like these it’d be so handy if I could drive already.
“Okay. Well, have a lovely time, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I’m a horrible person for not telling her the whole truth, but I really want to enjoy this night, and if she knew how much I’d spent, she wouldn’t even need to say anything. The reproachful look on her face would be enough.
Guilt eats through me, and I give myself another pep talk. If I’d stayed at the lawyers, like she’d wanted me to, my savings would be a lot less healthy right now, even taking tonight into account.
“I’d better go.” I kiss her cheek, and she gives me a quick hug, which makes me feel bad all over again.
By the time we arrive at Martin and Sherri’s later that afternoon, my guilt has vanished beneath waves of excitement and nerves. After spending three hours at the hair salon, and another hour getting my nails done, I don’t even recognize myself. Long blonde and rose-gold curls cascade over my shoulders, like I’m in a shampoo ad or something.
“Here, give me that.” Hannah takes my dress from me, probably worried I’m going to drop it in the gutter. Well, I’ve never had a makeover before; it’s no wonder I’m shaking like an idiot. “Come on, we’ve only got a couple of hours before Harry arrives.”
Sherri is almost as excited as Hannah as she sits me down in their spare bedroom, which is full of the tools of her trade. “I love your hair.” She bounces the curls on the palm of her hand. “I’ve always said you should have highlights, haven’t I always said that, Hannah?”
“Yep.” Hannah sits on a small couch and stuffs her face with biscuits. Even though I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast, I’m not hungry. I just hope my stomach doesn’t growl the minute Harry arrives.
“Because your hair is gorgeous,” Sherri continues, smiling at my reflection in the big mirror on the makeup table that I’m sitting in front of. “You don’t show it to its best advantage, scraping it up in that ponytail of yours.”
“But I’ve always worn it in a ponytail.”
“Exactly.” Sherri shoots Hannah a triumphant glance. “We’re not in high school anymore, Alice.”
“Well,” I begin my defense, except it hits me that she’s right. I’ve never tried to do anything different with my hair since I was about eleven years old, but the point is, without going to a salon and spending a fortune my hair never looks this good.
But maybe I should try leaving it loose, sometimes?
...
Harry
Right at six thirty, the limo pulls up outside the address Alice gave me. It’s a maisonette on the high street, and as I step out of the car, late-night shoppers turn and stare at me. They probably think I’m a right jerk taking up half the road with a white stretch limo. I should’ve known better than to let Lucas call in a favor, but with such short notice the only alternative was booking a taxi. The only times heads turn is when I’m out with my brother, but he soaks up attention from strangers, and I might as well be invisible for all the notice they take of me.
Can’t blame my brother tonight for all the sideways glances. I take a deep breath and avoid catching anyone’s gaze. The bow tie my sister fixed is choking me, and I ignore the urge to tug it loose as I ring the doorbell.
The door swings open, and two girls stand there with identical grins on their faces. “You must be Harry,” one of them says as she rakes her gaze over me. “Come in. I’m Hannah, by the way. Alice is all ready for you.”
Not sure how to respond to that, I give a noncommittal grunt and step inside the narrow hallway. My sister’s last words before she let me escape this evening rattle around inside my head. Don’t be a dick tonight. Sometimes you have to use your words when you meet new people.
This is one of those times. I’ve no idea what Alice gets up to at weekends usually. Maybe she hangs out here, and I’ve screwed up her plans. “I hope I haven’t messed up her evening.”
They clutch each other’s arms and giggle, just like Mackenzie’s friends do when Lucas turns up unexpectedly. “You totally haven’t messed up her evening,” the other girl says. “And I can see why.”
It’s the kind of thing my sister would say, and just as incomprehensible. I give a half-hearted grin.
I hope Alice is ready to leave.
“Alice,” Hannah yells up the stairs. “Your prince awaits.”
I tug on the bow tie before I can stop myself. Although over the last month or so I’ve thought about asking Alice out, so we could talk without being surrounded by people at work, I was thinking more of hanging out at the local pub. Not that I ever would’ve asked her out if not for this awards ceremony. Why fuck up a good thing by complicating it?
She’s one of my best friends, and no way do I want to lose that.
And she’s leaving in three weeks. Yeah, but if we don’t cross any lines at least we could still—
Alice walks down the stairs, and my primitive brain kicks in, knocking every other thought process down the evolutionary toilet. Jesus Christ. Her long, curly hair tumbles over her bare shoulders, and her dress clings to her so every curve burns into my mind. I’ve only ever seen her in jeans before, and I hadn’t given a thought to what she’d wear tonight, but holy fuck.
Don’t even think about fucking her.
I can’t think of anything else.
“Hey, Harry.” She stands next to me, and there’s a strange smile on her face. I stare. Can’t help myself. This is Alice, but at the same time it’s an Alice I’ve never imagined. Thank God, her eyes are still the same beautiful brown, although did they always have those mesmeric gold flecks?
“Hey.” It comes out like a growl, and I know I’ve screwed up when her two friends nudge each other. I clear my throat. Use your words. Except Alice isn’t a stranger, and I’ve never had a problem talking to her before. “You’re taller.”
Her smile wavers. “Um, yes. Six-inch heels.” She lifts her dress and displays her foot. Since when is a fleeting glimpse of ankle such a turn on? She drops her dress and her pink-painted toenails disappear. “You look really…” She hesitates for a split second as though searching for the right word. “Good.”
Hannah makes a strangled sound in her throat, and Alice shoots her a death stare. Belatedly it occurs to me I should’ve complimented her as soon as she walked down the stairs. Lucas would have. Then again, he’s had plenty of practice.
“You’re…” The words lock in my throat as I sweep my gaze over her again. Gorgeous? Amazing? The most beautiful girl I’ve ever met? Her two friends edge closer, as if they don’t want to miss a word. I shift my weight and offer her a pained smile. “Your hair’s different.”
“Oh. Yes.” She pats one of the long curls. I stifle the insane need to do the same thing. “I didn’t want to let the team down, did I?”
“Guys, you both look amazing.” Hannah spreads her arms and makes shooing gestures toward the front door. “You’re going to have the best time tonight. No need to be back by midnight.” She winks at Alice who pretends not to notice. “Don’t forget to take loads of selfies.”
I hold open the door for Alice. As she walks outside, her perfume dives straight to my dick. Don’t even think about rising to the occasion.
Too late.
We hover on the pavement as she eyes the limo, but I can’t figure out whether she approves or not by the expression on her face.
This would be so much easier if we didn’t have an audience, but it seems her friends are hell-bent on watching us until the last possible moment.
Chad, the chauffeur, opens the limo door. I stand back to let Alice get in first, and her friends sigh loudly, but Alice just gives me a small smile, her lush, pink lips pressed together. I exhale a breath between my teeth.
Stop thinking about her lips.
I follow her into the limo, which is easier said than done owing to the state of my hard-on, and slide onto the back seat beside her. Chad pulls out into the traffic, and Alice folds her hands on her lap, giving me a sideways glance.
“This is very nice.”
“Didn’t want to let the team down, did I?” I throw her words back at her, and she gives me the first genuine smile since she came down the stairs.
“No chance of that.”
“According to Lucas, there’s champagne in here.” The drinks bar is well stocked, and I pull out a bottle of Cristal. Something occurs to me. “Or there’re soft drinks.”
“Definitely champagne.”
I grin at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, why not? Hang onto that while I find some glasses.”
She takes the bottle and holds it as though it’s a bomb about to go off. I place a couple of glasses on the leather drinks table between us, take the bottle from her, and twist the cork off.
Alice waves the glasses at me. “This is seriously decadent.”
“Cheers.” We clink glasses, and I watch her take a tiny sip, her eyes closed as though she’s savoring every drop. I admire her profile, because, hell, why have I never noticed how sexy her throat and shoulders are? It’d be so easy to lean across and kiss her perfect skin. I swallow a groan and force myself back to reality. “Verdict?”
She licks her lips and slowly opens her eyes, her long lashes momentarily striking me speechless. “Well, it’s the first time I’ve tried champagne, but it won’t be the last.”
“That good, huh?” I swallow half the glass in one go. I have to hand it to my brother. He always buys the best. “Do you want strawberries?”
“Strawberries?”
I take some of the fresh fruit from the bar fridge. “Just to add to the whole decadent experience.”
“Why not?” She takes one and plops it into her glass. “This is kind of surreal, right?”
That’s an understatement. “I never saw you as a champagne kind of girl before.”
Then again, in the past I’ve only ever offered her coffee, fraps, or beer.
For some reason, her smile fades. “I’m not really. It’s not like there’ll be much chance of it once I go to university.”
“There’ll still be parties.” Mackenzie’s first year at university seemed to consist of nothing but partying.
“Well, not that I intend to party, but I think you’ll find it’s mostly beer and wine served at those things, not top-shelf champagne.”
I guess she has a point. “You’ll party, though. Everyone does.”
“Not when you’re on a shoestring budget.” She tips her glass at me before taking another seductive sip, and my good intentions sink to gutter level.
What the hell were we talking about? “Are you okay financially? If you need any help with the fees, let me know. It’s—”
Alice chokes and presses the back of her fingers against her mouth while she stares at me as though I’ve just grown two heads. “Harry.” It comes out like a strangled squawk as a delicate blush stains her cheeks. “I don’t need any help. Everything’s fine.” She hitches in a sharp breath. “Thanks, anyway.”
It’s hard to drag my attention back to our conversation when all I want to do is kiss her. Stop thinking about kissing her. “The offer’s there if you ever need it. Call it a loan, if you want. Thing is, Caleb and I would’ve drowned months ago if you hadn’t been there to keep our feet on the ground and heads above water.” I grin at my appalling choice of clichés, and after a couple of seconds she lets out a long breath and her shoulders relax.
“It’s been fun, though. I wouldn’t have missed this year with you and Caleb for anything.”
“I’ll drink to that.” I clink her glass again and finish off my drink. The urge is strong to have another, but while I can down beer all night without it affecting my coordination, the champagne is an unknown quantity. The last thing I need is to turn up to this ceremony half cut, when my every move might be scrutinized by the gutter press.
As much as his fans idolize him, Lucas often gets ripped to shreds by the paparazzi, and I’m sure they’d love the additional fresh meat of dissecting his brother, should I do something fucked up due to alcohol.
No way am I going to screw up this evening. Alice will never come out with me again.