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“Swoon-worthy.” Delia sighed. “Maybe they’ll do a remake. I mean, I don’t know how many versions ofPride and PrejudiceI’ve watched. Though my favourite Mr Darcy will always be Colin Firth. That scene where he walks out of the lake dripping wet. Ohhhh, myyy god.”
Miranda interjected. “Personally, give me Travis Fimmel fromVikingsany day.”
“That’s because he looks just like Archie.” Natasha Fink laughed.
“Isn’t it wonderful,” Miranda purred, “that I only lust after men who resemble my husband?”
As if they shared thoughts by symbiosis, all three turned their eyes now on Alice. “Any wedding bells on the horizon for you and Aaron?” Natasha Fink asked.
Alice nearly choked on a mouthful of champagne. “Um, not quite yet.”
Natasha’s eyebrows rose. Miranda stared, unblinking. Delia looked like maybe she got it as she said, “You want to focus on your career for a bit longer, right?”
Alice grabbed it like a lifeline. “Yes. Mum and I have got some really exciting things planned; we’re hoping to expand the shop, maybe start a franchise.” That was kind of true, Rowena had been talking about another shop for a few years. “And with Aaron wanting to establish himself first, you know…” She trailed off.
“Don’t wait too long.” Natasha pursed her lips. “A woman’s fertility drops dramatically after thirty. How old are you, Alice?”
“I’m twenty-six,” Alice said as she took a delicate-looking morsel from the waitress and shoved the whole thing in her mouth. Time to change the subject. She chewed, swallowed.
“Mmm, these are delicious. What were those little crunchy bits on top?”
“Fried green ants,” Miranda supplied sweetly.
* * *
After what seemed like forever listening to the wives exchange advice on the best private schools and Botox specialists, Alice managed to excuse herself and escaped to the toilet.
She sat on the loo and counted breaths, then reeled off a wad of toilet paper, tried to rewind it and failed miserably. In the end she gave up, begged the recycling fairy for forgiveness, and stuffed it down the toilet before flushing.
In the mirror, as she washed her hands, her reflection stared back at her. She really hated looking at her face without her glasses. It was akin to running around with her top off.
Sad eyes, she thought. Maybe that’s why she hid behind frames most of the time. Or perhaps they were just sore from the contact lenses? She forced her lips to smile but her eyes stayed sad. She’d read in a book on emotions that fake smiles used far fewer muscles than real smiles and people could usually tell the difference. She reckoned there were a lot of fake smiles around here tonight.
She reapplied her lipstick, opened her compact and dusted powder on her nose. This make-up thing was a whole new ball game. But then, fake dating, lying through your teeth and mixing with people who were as rich as trolls was all new too.
And, frankly, horribly stressful.
Maybe she should tell Aaron she was out of the deal. Forget Polly’s stupid idea that she stood a chance with him and that silly equation about amazeballs sex. Scuttle back to her smelly old bookshop and hide behind crushes on her nineteenth century book boyfriends.
Gah!She flung the lipstick and compact back in her bag and stuck her tongue out at her reflection before flouncing out. Straight into a hard chest. And a familiar tantalising spicy smell.
“Ooophh—Aaron.” Strong fingers closed around the tops of her arms to steady her.
“There you are, I was just coming to see if you were all right.”
“Fine, never better actually.” She tried to pull away, but his grip was remarkably firm and, if she was honest, reassuring. She gazed up into the clear blue of his eyes, detected the tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows that happened when he was half amused and half questioning, and her resolve to tell him to take a hike evaporated like rain drying in the sun.
“Are you having fun?” he asked.
“Are you?”
“Yeah. They’re a great bunch. I’ve met all the team. I’ll be under Archie the first year, it seems.”
“Not literally, I hope.”
His eyebrows shot up then he laughed. “Idjit.”
She should be happy. Aaron was happy. His face was a little flushed, bringing out every nuance of his spectacularly handsome features. She smiled. Forcing it to be genuine. Using the right muscles.
