The Liberation of Alice Love(83)
Author: Abby McDonald

But this wasn’t love, or anything like it.

Alice waited for his lips to find hers, still strangely detached from the whole situation. Was he really going to do it? After all these years, just reach for her blindly—as if she were nothing more than the nearest warm body? He was upset, and even drunk, but as Julian gazed into her eyes and edged his face closer to hers, Alice didn’t find it much of an excuse. He didn’t want her; he wanted reassurance that he wasn’t doomed to be alone.

Her anger grew.

Julian pressed against her, his mouth already opening to deepen the kiss. He dropped a hand to her hips, slipping up beneath the fabric of her top as he began to settle back on top of her, making a slight groaning noise under his breath as his fingers found her stomach, her bra…

Alice pushed him away with so much force, he tumbled to the floor.

“What?” Julian protested, not even looking shameful.

“What?” Alice repeated, struggling to her feet. “You grope at me like I’m some kind of rebound f**k, and you’re the one asking what’s going on?”

He blinked at her, wounded. “That’s not what this is…”

“Really?” Alice forced herself to calm down. He was upset; he didn’t know what he was doing. “So you genuinely have feelings for me?” she asked. “Strong enough to risk our entire friendship for?”

“What if I do?” Julian picked himself up. “You can’t tell me that I’m the only one. This has been building between us for a long time.”

Alice gaped. “No, it hasn’t. And in case you forgot, I’m seeing someone!”

“Right. The American,” Julian said, with a hint of arrogance. “Like that’s going to last. He’s not right for you.”

“Whereas you are?” Alice exhaled, her sympathy melting away. “God, Jules, you break up with Yasmin and then, whoosh! Six hours later, you’re happily trying to…I don’t even know!”

She stopped, struck by a sudden chill. All these years, she’d thought him a safe part of her life; she’d believed she mattered to him. But now, he seemed ready to throw it all away on a cheap, drunken one-night stand.

Was that all she meant to him?

Alice looked at him, hoping he would realize his mistake. Better late than never at all. He could apologize, and she could forgive him, and eventually they could go back to normal again and pretend this madness never happened.

But Julian just blustered: “I don’t know why you’re acting this way. I thought this was what you wanted!”

“Which makes it even worse.” Alice shook her head. She couldn’t believe this. “If I was secretly in love with you, do you really think this is what I deserve? Some hormonal fumble on the couch, with your ex-lover’s belongings still piled around us?”

Julian coughed. “Look, OK, maybe my timing isn’t the greatest here, but—”

“No, Julian!” Alice exploded. “You don’t get it. I’m not your standby; I haven’t been waiting around for you to settle for me!”

“That’s not what I meant. Aly, come on; you mean the world to me!”

“No, I don’t,” Alice replied softly. In the background, Brian Wilson was wailing softly about wanting to go home; he had the right idea. “If you cared at all, you wouldn’t have done this.”

As if she were in some terrible dream, Alice walked away. She closed the door quietly on her way out.

Chapter Twenty-eight

He didn’t call. Not that night, guilt stricken, or the morning after, sober and faintly embarrassed. The week passed without a single word, not even a halfhearted attempt to laugh the whole thing off. Julian simply disappeared, and every day that passed, Alice felt her affection for him fade a little more. Confusion and hurt soon cemented into anger. She couldn’t understand—their friendship might not have mattered enough to stop him reaching for her in one vodka-soaked impulse, but surely he cared enough to try and repair the damage?

Apparently not.

“Oh, I thought you’d be out with Nathan.” Flora appeared in the living room on Friday night, her gray cardigan drooping in soft folds around her body.

Alice looked up from the pile of contracts she was attempting to speed through. “No, he’s off in Switzerland again.”

Flora gave a pale smile. “Chasing rogue investors through the Alps?”

“More like filing paperwork with uncooperative banking officials.” Alice pulled a face. “Not quite so glamorous, granted. But he will bring back those Lindt truffles you like so much.”

“Great.” Flora let out a sigh. “So, do you want to watch a film, or something? I’ve been in my studio so long, I’m sick of the place.”

“Maybe later.” Alice shot her a distracted smile. “I need to get these finished.”

Flora wandered closer. “Anything exciting?”

“Not in the least.” Alice felt a surge of resentment. “Vivienne has decided that our entire boilerplate contract needs reconstructing. By next week.”

Flora’s eyes widened. “Will you manage in time?”

“I’ll have to,” Alice replied shortly. “Otherwise she’ll start talking about how I can’t manage both of my roles.”

Even the memory of Vivienne’s smug look as she deposited her notes—full of red ink and illegible scribbles—made Alice want to growl with frustration. She would have thought that bringing commissions and credibility to the agency would give Vivienne some satisfaction, but it seemed Alice was still overreaching her natural position and needed to be frequently reminded of her true place.

“Well”—Flora drifted back toward the door—“let me know when you’re done.”

“Will do.” Alice returned to the dense page of co-representation clauses, but she couldn’t focus. It felt like wasted time to her, sitting around while there were other, more pressing matters to attend to. Nathan may be gone, but that just meant that she had a convenient opportunity to be out with somebody else. Toying with her mobile, she deliberated the call she was just itching to make: Carl. She had played it cool so far, not wanting to scare him off, but he had yet to ask her on a real date, and those coffee breaks and casual conversations weren’t yielding anything useful about Kate Jackson. Alice even offered up a small tragedy of her own, inventing a dead brother in the hopes of eliciting some confidence, but still, Carl hadn’t mentioned Kate. Clearly, she needed to step up her game.