The Liberation of Alice Love(103)
Author: Abby McDonald

“You stole my identity,” Alice said slowly. “They all think you’re me.”

“No, they think I’m Angelique, and you’re Alice. Simple.” Ella waited, expectant.

“Rupert knows that’s my name, remember?”

Ella shrugged. “So it’s a huge a coincidence! Our mothers must have been reading the same pretentious novels; it’s easily explained.” She bounced on the spot. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

Alice was still trying to understand this sudden switch when she looked up, catching the briefest look of desperation skitter across Ella’s face. Then she understood, Ella was still absolutely terrified. Of discovery, of the police, of having her golden little world here pulled apart—everything that Alice could do so easily, with just a single phone call. No wonder she was trying so hard to drag her off to the VIP section, Alice realized. She probably hoped that if she dazzled her with A-list friends and a riot of fun, Alice could be persuaded not to give her up.

“All right,” Alice decided. It was reassuring to know that she still had some small measure of power over Ella. And it was true, a part of her was curious to see this new life of hers up close. She got to her feet and gazed at Ella carefully. “But we talk more later.”

“Absolutely,” Ella vowed. “It’s going to be fun, I promise!”

Alice was wound too tight with caution to enjoy herself, but as she lounged in the dim VIP section of an ultra-cool club, watching as Ella laughed and joked with Chris and his surprisingly genuine group of friends, she had to admit, it wasn’t entirely bad. Seeing Ella in her element like this was almost reassuring. She seemed, to Alice, to be exactly the same person she’d been back in England, albeit with a different name, and new stories to tell her accomplished acquaintances. Ella, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so relaxed: her gaze flicking over to Alice every few minutes, anxious, as if she expected her to stand up and denounce her as an imposter at any second.

“What did you say your friend’s name was?” Rupert leaned over, raising his voice to be heard over the DJ’s eclectic mix of hip-hop and Broadway show tunes.

Alice paused. “Angela,” she said, deliberately muddying the word with a sip from her exquisite cocktail.

“Oh, great! She seems nice!” Rupert looked around, unable to keep the joyful expression from his face. He’d hit it off with Chris almost straight away, the pair of them diving into debate over some British comedy show, and soon, Chris had been suggesting to Perry (his manager) and Cleo (one of his battalion of agents) that they set Rupert up with an audition for his upcoming vampire-versus-zombie apocalypse movie sequel.

Rupert pushed back his flop of fringe. “Did I say thank you enough already?”

Alice laughed, glad of his presence in the midst of all this uncertainty—a reminder of something honest. “It was only a drinks invite. Besides, I wanted to see you while I was in town. This time,” she added quickly.

He shook his head. “It’s not just drinks, Alice, you know that. It’s…access, exposure, getting seen by the right people.” Rupert nodded at the casual designer suits. “I could never pull it off on my own. It’s why I never got anywhere, back in England.

“But—”

“I know,” he cut her off, before she could object. “Good actors rise to the top, eventually.” He repeated the oft-spoken mantra. “But come off it—we both know that’s not true. The ones who stay at the top, they’re the good ones, yes, but plenty who manage to grab their way up there for a while are just better at playing these games.”

Alice gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze. She’d never been too comfortable among these sorts of people either, thinking herself too dull or sensible to blend with their outré lifestyles. But if there was one thing she’d learned from her brief spells as Angelique—and Juliet, and even Ella—it was that perhaps she wasn’t that sensible after all.

“That’s why you need one of these cutthroat agents.” She grinned, nodding around at the collection of fast-talking industry types with gleaming grins and a phone console never far from their fingertips. “They play the game, so you don’t have to.”

Rupert paused, drumming his fingers briefly on the tabletop. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about that. I’d like you to do it for me. Be my agent, I mean,” he explained eagerly. “If you want me as a client, that is. It just seems like perfect timing: you coming over here, right when I need you most. What do you say?”

Alice cringed under his hopeful gaze. “I…I don’t have enough experience yet,” she protested. “I couldn’t do you justice.”

“Not at all,” Rupert insisted. “You know contracts inside out, and you’re already introducing me to all the right people. What more is there?”

“I can’t,” Alice apologized, busying herself with a napkin. “I really—”

“Can’t what?” Ella collapsed beside her with a breathless grin.

“Alice is refusing to represent me.” Rupert adopted a woeful expression.

“Why not? That’s a great idea!” Ella exclaimed. Alice gave her a look.

“You know why not,” she said, keeping her voice measured. “I’m…just starting out on my own. I wouldn’t be up to the responsibility.”

“Nonsense,” Ella declared. “Don’t worry,” she told Rupert. “She’ll come around. She’s just a little overwhelmed by the whole Hollywood thing.”

“Um, can I have a word?” Alice practically pushed Ella out of the booth and into a back hallway.

“What are you playing at?” she hissed, the moment a leggy blond sashayed past them into the toilets. “Fucking with everyone else may be OK with you, but this is Rupert! He’s a decent guy!”

“I know he is,” Ella protested. “Which is why I think you’d be the perfect agent for him.”

Alice sighed. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one saying you’re a hot-shot L. A. agent, not me.”

“So why don’t you?” Ella folded her arms, a note of challenge in her tone.

Alice blinked. “What?”

“Do it. Move here, agent—for real, I mean,” Ella insisted. “We could set up, together. I’ve been telling everyone about the Angelique Love Agency, so why don’t we make it with the real Angelique Love attached?”