The Liberation of Alice Love (32 page)

“OK,” Flora whispered finally. “I’ll talk to him.”

Alice summoned Stefan that evening with a vague invitation to drive down and join them all for a family weekend. Then, despite Flora’s wide-eyed pleas, she left. Some things, she couldn’t mediate, but they would come through this. Alice hadn’t spent the past three years watching them with a wistful eye not to know the steel that ran beneath their relationship, even if Flora had been thrown into doubt by her own experience of love and the limits it so often showed.

Catching the late train moments before it left, Alice curled up in an empty car and gazed absently out at the dark blur of country landscape and small towns that would take her back to London. They were more alike than Alice had imagined, she and Flora both. She was old enough not to feel it so keenly, but the legacies of their parents’ various carelessness had left their mark. Flora kept herself in a state of perpetual need, and Alice? Well, she realized, she’d long ago rejected the idea of needing anyone at all; spending years constructing her life to be a calm, uncomplicated, and, in the end, solitary pursuit.

But people could change. Flora had already come a long way from the needy child who first married Stefan. Now, she clearly burned for some independence and autonomy, even if she hadn’t yet found a way to understand those desires. And Alice too—she’d been gradually inching away from that old life of hers, whether through her hunt for Ella, or more basic restlessness, she wasn’t sure. It struck her now that she might have been wrong, thinking everything had switched back to the way it had been—before Ella, or any of this drama had begun. Despite the woeful current state of her life, all was not entirely lost, Alice decided. Whatever the outcome with Nathan, or her job, she was no longer willing to sit back anymore, watching everybody else’s drama unfold and only edging in afterward, to restore order and calm. Those days, she realized with quiet measure of satisfaction, were behind her for good.

Chapter Thirty-two

Alice returned to London with a new sense of purpose. Her instincts to organize and find some sort of order in the chaos now applied more than ever to her own life. The hopeful messages and pleading texts were clearly not working, and however much she longed to reconcile, Alice knew that all the apologies in the world wouldn’t make Nathan listen if he didn’t want to. So, making one last effort to reach him, she handwrote a careful letter, explaining the reasons for her deception but, more important, the parts for which she had no regret. It would be wrong of her to apologize for everything, when she wasn’t quite sure she owed it to him, but she had betrayed his trust, and for that, she was sorry. She sent one to Nadia too—briefer, but heartfelt and apologetic. Alice didn’t expect any reply from her, but she’d wanted to assure her that their friendship, however false when it came to surface details, had been genuine on her part.

With the letters sent, Alice’s life returned to a mundane sort of normal. Flora and Stefan returned from Sussex sobered, but they seemed to have had some sort of breakthrough. Alice didn’t press, but Flora, at least, was calmed by whatever had passed between them. She was still tearful at times, but Stefan canceled his upcoming trips, and Alice found a practice application essay for the residency scrawled on the back of a kitten sketch. After such drama and emotional upheaval, it was almost a relief to drift back into her own regular routine. Her urge to track Ella didn’t subside. She still wondered where her friend was now and what the true story was behind her emergence as a thief and fraud, but Alice resisted the urge to return to those thick files of data. Her compulsion would fade, she decided. It was just a question of letting go.

Not quite so easy to endure was the situation at work. With Saskia flouncing around in triumph and Vivienne having wrested back control of her clients, Alice was left to face her contract work again and sift through the familiar stack of assistant applications.

“Man, no wonder Patricia hasn’t booked any jobs lately, she must have put on thirty pounds!”

“Mmm-hmm. And that bad Botox isn’t helping either.”

Alice finished her glass of champagne and shot Tyrell a disdainful glare. It was the annual agency party, hosted on the back terrace of an expensive French restaurant, and clients and co-workers alike had turned out for the chic, black-tie affair. The evening was warm and sunny, with alcohol flowing at a generous rate, but some of the guests were more concerned with sniping at their compatriots than celebrating.

“I heard she got turned down for a Febreeze ad,” Saskia announced, her red curls gleaming as she leaned closer to Tyrell. “I bet Vivienne will drop her soon. It’s just an embarrassment to have clients like that hanging around.”

Alice followed her gaze. A middle-aged blond woman was chatting to Vivienne—a little curvy, yes, but elegant in a cream shift and tasteful gold jewelry. Alice recognized her immediately as Patricia Houghton. Not because she was enjoying great fame or critical adulation, but because she had once featured prominently on Alice’s most-wanted list of fading, yet prospective, clients.

Alice turned back to the drinks table with a sigh. There was little point her attempting to woo anyone; Vivienne would only snatch them back. No, her agenting ambitions were securely on hold for now, the more pressing issue being whether she could find work as a contracts manager elsewhere and perhaps escape the delightful camaraderie of Grayson Wells with her sanity intact.

Saskia let out another squeal. “Oh my God! Do you
see
what Parker Gilford is wearing?!”

Alice swiftly left the patio, circulating with smiles and small talk for a while. There were plenty of clients who were happy to see her, and while Julia and Kieran seemed nervous—awkwardly apologizing for not having been in touch—Alice couldn’t hold it against them. Vivienne could be persuasive when the mood took her and was doing excellent work on their behalf, now that she had a little motivation. Maybe that was her calling, Alice mused: selecting overlooked clients to work with so that Vivienne would start paying them attention again. Who knew, perhaps if she waltzed over and handed Patricia her card, Vivienne would actually acknowledge her existence for a change.

“Alice Love!”

As if hearing her thoughts, Vivienne’s voice suddenly rang out through the party, and Alice looked up to find her boss charging in her direction, her black satin cocktail dress looking remarkably like armor, edged with silver cuffs and a fearsome belt. In fact, as Vivienne parted the sea of guests and stalked across the lawn toward her, Alice could see that her face was glowering angrily.

She took a step back in fear. “What…What’s wrong, Vi?” Alice asked, thinking in horror of the break-in, and police questions, and the swift end to her secure, if sedate, career. Nobody would hire a lawyer with a criminal conviction to her name!

“You know very well what’s wrong.” Coming to a halt not two feet away, Vivienne jabbed one polished fingertip toward Alice’s collarbone.

She took another step back, stalling for time. “No, no, I’m not sure.”

Vivienne gasped theatrically. “And to lie to my face, after everything I’ve done for you!”

Alice glanced around. The party was silent, all eyes on them. Saskia rushed to Vivienne’s side, glaring at Alice with identical disapproval.

Oh God.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s happened?” Alice tried to keep her voice from trembling. It all came down to how much Vivienne knew: just her occasional impersonations or the whole messy affair? She gulped, reaching out to guide Vivienne away from the crowd. “In fact, let’s go talk about this inside, so we don’t interrupt—”

“Hollywood!” Vivienne announced, shaking off her hand. “You thought you could just up and leave? Taking all my clients with you!”

Alice stopped.

“That’s right,” Vivienne scowled. “Although why you think they would follow you when you have no connections or experience…”

So this wasn’t about her crimes? Alice felt a great sweep of relief, but it was soon tempered with new confusion. “Vivienne.” Alice’s voice dropped, as she looked helplessly around. “I really don’t know what you mean.”

“Like hell you don’t!” Vivienne drew herself up and glowered at her. “I’ve heard all about your little plans. An agency, in Hollywood? I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. Oh, don’t play the fool with me,” she snapped, taking in Alice’s bewildered expression. “I know everything.”

“Rupert called,” Saskia piped up. “He’s in L. A. He heard you were setting up over there, and wanted to get hold of you.” She folded her arms smugly.

“But…I really don’t…” Alice didn’t understand. “He must have been mistaken,” she insisted.

“Ha!” Vivienne snorted. “I’ve been asking around, I know everything. The Angelique Love Agency, indeed. Did you really think the name would keep me from finding you out?” she jabbed her finger again. “What were you planning—to stay here long enough to steal all our information, tempt the clients away?”

“No, no!” Alice shook her head, still not grasping what on earth—

Ella.

Alice realized the truth in a flash. It was Ella! She must be in L. A.—using Alice’s identity to pass herself off as, what, an agent? Or had that just been a random lie that had somehow found its way back to Rupert?

But it was Ella, after all this time.

“I just don’t understand.” Vivienne was clearly through the anger phase of her tirade and into wounded indignation, playing for the rapt crowd. “This is the thanks I get, for taking you in and nurturing you, like my own child! And when I think of the favor I did your poor father…” Vivienne held one hand to her forehead, as if she were about to swoon. Alice rolled her eyes,

“That was years ago,” she replied, impatient. She just wanted to know what Ella was doing out there!

“So you admit it?” Vivienne gasped.

“Well, it sounds like the proof is pretty damning.” Alice was already thinking of her passport, and plane tickets. She glanced at Vivienne, standing imperiously in front of her flock, awaiting some sort of apology—a grasping, groveling plea for forgiveness.

And just like that, the job Alice had only moments before been so scared to lose suddenly seemed insignificant compared to the real revelation of the day. She didn’t need this—not when she had more important matters waiting for her across the Atlantic.

Fuck Vivienne and her theatric power plays.

“I better leave then.” Alice smiled, suddenly carefree. “Since it’s clear I’m not wanted.”

Vivienne drew in a breath, her heavily kohled eyes bulging with rage.

“And yes, take this as my resignation,” Alice added, before Vivienne could think to fire her. “Enjoy the party, everyone,” she added with a beam. Then, depositing her drink on a nearby tray, Alice happily sauntered away, leaving a hushed murmur of surprise in her wake.

***

Dashing straight to the office before Vivienne could change all the locks, Alice hastily called Rupert’s wife to track down his international number, keeping one eye on the door in case a battalion was sent to stop her pilfering all those important client files.

“Alice!” He exclaimed happily, when she finally got through. “You got my message?”

“Yes…” It suddenly struck her that if she revealed Ella’s part in all of this, Rupert might do something stupid like confront her. Or, worse still, involve the police.

“Oh, crap, did I land you in it with Vivienne?” he mistook her hesitance as disapproval. “I’m so sorry. It’s just, when my friend said he’d met you over here, I thought you’d left Grayson Wells for good. Or at least handed in your resignation.”

“No, it’s fine,” Alice reassured him quickly, already packing away some belongings from her desk into an empty cardboard box. “I have quit. I’ve just been…wrapping things up over here.”

“Congratulations!” Rupert sounded thrilled for her. “And it’s such good timing too, because I need your services. A friend of mine is working as an assistant director on a new film, and, well, he’s managed to wrangle me a part. It’s nothing big,” he added, ever modest. “But it’s comic, like you suggested, and it pays well. I was hoping you could look over the contract for me?”

“Of course,” Alice agreed. “But shouldn’t you find a real agent?”

“I will,” Rupert promised. “I just don’t want to rush into it. I’ve learned my lesson,” he added grimly.

“That’s great. I’d be happy to help,” Alice said quickly. “Now, remind me, when did I run into that friend of yours…?”

“Last weekend, I think he said, at Chateau Marmont. I didn’t realize he was talking about you, at first, but then he said you were an agent, from England…” Rupert laughed. “I suppose you changed your mind on the Angelique thing, then!”

Alice echoed his laugh. “Yes, well…Did I give him a card or any contact information at all? A batch of my business cards was printed wrong,” she explained quickly. “So he might not be able to get hold of me.”

“I’ll check,” Rupert replied. “You really should get a website running though—if I hadn’t known Angelique was you, I never would have put the two names together.”

“You’re right,” Alice said thoughtfully. “You’re exactly right.”

***

As she booked her flight for that evening and rushed home, Alice couldn’t help but marvel at the ingenuity of Ella’s plan. A driver’s license, a credit card or two—Alice knew all too well by now how easy it was to build a wealth of identification with just a couple of original documents. And if she went by Angelique, too? Well, there would be no reason for anyone at all to link her back to Alice, not even in the entertainment industry.

The plan was flawless. At least, it would have been, had it not been for the simple matter of Rupert knowing her real name. With Alice tucked away at Grayson Wells in London, Ella could have happily paraded across Los Angeles as Angelique Love for months, if not years, with nobody any the wiser. But now, Alice had her. Now, she would finally know the truth.

***

“Do you want to come to L. A.?” Alice burst breathlessly into Flora’s studio, the moment she arrived back home.

“What?” Flora looked up from where she was curled, sketching on the sofa. Alice was about to launch into the grand tale of Ella’s discovery when she noticed the vivid, angry paintings that now were neatly stacked along one wall. She paused, Flora following her gaze.

“Oh, those.” She blushed. “Stefan suggested we find somewhere to show them. Under a different name, maybe, so it doesn’t confuse my brand, but…I can’t keep hiding them away forever.”

“That’s great.” Alice smiled. “And…the residency?”

Flora beamed serenely. “We sent my application yesterday. Stefan can come visit, on weekends. If I get it, I mean.”

“You will,” Alice declared. “And guess what? I’ve found Ella, she’s in L. A.!”

Flora gasped. “No!”

Alice quickly explained the accidental discovery, painfully aware that she was due at the airport in a matter of hours. “So, what do you say?” She grinned at Flora. “Come with me?”

A thoughtful look crossed Flora’s face. “No, thanks.” She shook her head slowly. “I think…you better do this on your own.”

“You’re sure?” Alice checked. “It could be fun. I booked the hotel Cassie’s always raving about, and we could do some things together too…”