Page 5 of Glitterati Omega

“Enough of it, yes,” he agreed.

She considered him for a very long moment. Then she said, “You talking to the doctor?”

“When am I not talking to a doctor?” he grumbled, slumping over the table. “The last two years have been nothingbutdoctors.”

“Mm.”

He sighed into his hand. “But enough about me and my woes—how are things with you?”

“Oh,” Alina said lightly, “well enough. Elise keeps you informed.”

“She does not,” Rupert huffed. “The last time I spoke to Elise was … six months ago, about your engagement.”

“Mm,” Alina agreed with a warm smile and a laugh, “and that is the last time we had any kind of news to share.”

Rupert frowned at her. “I sincerely doubt that—what’s been going on with her fashion house? I saw she had a runway in Milan. And you—surely the Prince of Wales visiting L’Atelier Wren must be something to write home about.”

Alina smiled again. “Are those really the kinds of updates you’re after? We only share news with you about as often as you share news with us, Roo.”

“Well—that’s different! I haven’t any news to share.”

She leaned on her hand, her mouth twisted in a wry smirk, her brown eyes twinkling with merriment. “No?”

He frowned. “Well, not thepleasantkind anyway.” There had been plenty of news in the last two years—most of it decidedlyunpleasant. “And besides, you know about most of that anyway.”

She nodded, conceding the point.

“So I’d much rather act as a sympathetic ear, to live vicariously through your triumphs, because, clearly, my own life has gone straight to shit.”

Alina shook her head, then said, “That’s the problem, Roo. You shouldn’t be living vicariously through us or anyone else—just because the last two years have been rough—”

“Understatement.”

“It doesn’t mean you should sit and wallow! Christ, Roo, it’s been two years—get out and live a little, hm? See if you can find that joie de vivre, you know, before youdodie.”

He shook his head. He was not in the mood for this lecture. Honestly, it was rather rude of her to ambush him with it.

“You haven’t even tried any of those dating profiles I set up for you,” she chided. “You know how I know? I check them sometimes. You have lots of messages.”

He scoffed. “I don’t particularly feel like wading through a cesspool of alphas, Alina, just to get my heart broken.”

“Who says you have to have your heart broken? You could just have fun!” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “You deserve to have some fun. After all the shit you’ve been through …”

He sighed and pulled away. “That’s entirely the trouble with me,” he murmured. “I can’t have fun with it, Alina. We both know I play for keeps, and I’m bound to get my heart broken. I mean, look at Thomas.”

“Thomas was a dickhead,” she thundered with surprising ferocity. The silverware jumped when she landed a hand on the table.

“I just … I don’t think I’m ready,” he admitted guiltily, then glanced away again. “Not now. Not maybe ever.”

“Roo …”

“It’s the truth,” he said, frowning.

“You can’t mope around forever, you—”

She was interrupted by a loud, irritatingly cheerful ring. “Pardon me,” Rupert said, digging his mobile out of his purse.

“That’s not you,” she said, then tossed her own phone on the table. Her eyes widened, and she grabbed it. “Good morning, L’Atelier Wren, Alina speaking. How may I be of assistance?”