“Darn.” Ella grinned. “Foiled again.”
Alice parked beside the elevator exit, unnerved by the surroundings despite her joke. She lingered in the car, safe behind central locking.
“It’s creepy, I know,” Ella agreed, looking around. “I’ve watched far too many horror movies set in these places. Come on.” She led Alice to the lifts and rode to the third floor. “There’s a security guard at the front desk,” she said, as if to reassure herself or Alice, she wasn’t sure. “And it’s much nicer in daylight.”
They stepped into an open-plan reception area, Ella flicking on lights as they went. “It’s sort of a collective office space, for several small businesses. There’s a record label and a digital media company and a literary agency just up the hall.” She pointed out different offices as they passed, with frosted glass windows and gleaming desktop computers at every turn. “The plan is to share a receptionist, switchboard, mail room: all the basic admin roles—that way, costs are low, but each individual company stays professional and competitive.”
“Um, all right…” Alice looked around, still not sure what they were doing there. She had a sneaking suspicion it related to Ella’s grand partnership proposal, but surely she hadn’t been serious?
She was. Ella unlocked the last door, throwing it open proudly to reveal a large, L-shaped space with white walls, bare, wooden floorboards, and wide windows.
“Is that the ocean?” Alice asked, walking over and resting her forehead, cool against the glass. It was nothing more than a stretch of black beyond the cluster of lights, but she watched it nonetheless.
“What do you think? We wouldn’t need a waiting area because of the reception out there, of course. So, this could be our office space. Or we could split it, for privacy. A wall here, maybe.” She paced the floor in illustration.
“You actually mean it.” Alice didn’t know whether to laugh or sink to the floor, worn out. She did the latter, stretching out flat on the smooth surface, enjoying the chill where it touched her bare skin. It felt as if everything were drifting away from her, here in the dull gleam of late night and bright golden lights: the expectations, all her fierce determination.
Whatever it was she’d needed so much from Ella, Alice knew now with absolute certainty, she wouldn’t get it.
“It’s far-fetched, I know.” Ella took a seat, cross-legged next to her. “But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t work.”
Alice could think of a hundred reasons why not.
“I can’t trust you,” she started quietly, but even as she said the words, she felt the strange déjà vu of familiarity. It was like they were lounging back at her flat or on Ella’s living room floor, after one too many glasses of wine. But those days were long behind them, and even if Alice had kept them in the back of her mind during all this tracking and trailing, they were empty memories of something past. She sighed, rolling her head to the side to look at Ella. “Even if I understand, how it all got out of hand, and you never meant to hurt me…I can’t trust you.”
“Not yet,” Ella agreed, a note of optimism in her voice. “But…you could, with time.”
Alice looked at her. “Is it my friendship you want, or just the guarantee I won’t turn you in?” Ella made as if to protest, but Alice gave her a weary smile. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing here, Ella. The more tangled up I get in this agency, and all your plans, the more trouble I’d get into if I ever revealed the truth. This isn’t a partnership, it’s an insurance policy.”
Ella paused, rueful. “Can’t it be both?”
Alice gave a tired laugh. The strange thing was, she didn’t even blame her for trying. Ella was building a life here, after what had probably been years of fleeing from one fraud to another, so it was no wonder she was so eager to cling to everything she had.
“You know me,” she said, curious. “You know I wouldn’t agree to this, so why even bother asking?”
Ella looked at her carefully. “I don’t really, not anymore. The Alice I knew would have sent the police straight for me. In fact,” she said, with a glimmer of a smile, “the Alice I knew wouldn’t have wasted her time trying to track me down. Can you really blame me for trying?”
Alice was silent. She had changed, of course, and perhaps not in the most law-abiding of ways, but setting up here with Ella seemed more concrete than any white lies and minor break-in.
“You’d like it here,” Ella said, still sounding hopeful. “The weather is wonderful, for a start, and the men all adore the accent. We’d have fun.”
We. Again, with the collective nouns. But for all the time they’d spent together while Ella was in London, theirs had not been an enduring friendship, with history to cling to, like Alice had with Flora or even Cassie. In fact, Alice wondered with new clarity, if the end hadn’t come with so much drama and confusion, would she feel such an emotional pull toward Ella at all?
She’d been chasing somebody—something—that didn’t even exist.
“Think about it, at least?” Ella spoke again, her control clearly slipping. “You’re finished at the agency—you need a new job. It could be an adventure!”
Alice sighed. “Ella…”
“I want to stay,” she said stubbornly. “This time, I want my life to be something real.”
“Without earning it?”
Ella gave a sharp laugh. “Who earns anything these days?”
“Then what’s stopping you doing this with your own name? Your real one,” Alice tried, watching for any sign of emotion.
Ella just gave Alice a look, unreadable, but tinted with some defensive shell. “That’s not going to happen,” she replied, and her tone was so final, Alice knew it to be true.
“Then, I don’t know what to say.” Alice looked around the polished room, bright from the spotlights, and full of potential. It would be fun here, in the sunshine—that much was true. And with Rupert already wanting her to represent him, and all the contacts she could make…
Alice shook her head. “It’s late. I need to get some sleep.”
Ella looked at her, uncertain.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Alice reassured her, even though she had no idea what more could be said.
“And you’ll think about it?” Ella helped her to her feet.
Alice nodded. However absurd Ella’s plan, Alice could sleep on it, at least until she found some other solution.
“But can I even trust you not to run?” She stopped halfway to the door, turning back to Ella. “This won’t work if you’re just going to bolt the minute my back is turned. The police dropped their inquiries ages ago,” she added. “And nobody knows where you are.”
Ella nodded, giving Alice a small smile. “I’m staying. I promise,” she vowed. “I told you—I’m done with that. I want something normal, for a change.”
“You call the Hollywood Hills normal?” Alice mocked, with a faint grin.
“Don’t knock it.” Ella laughed, switching off the lights behind them and locking the doors up tight. “I’ve got a view of the whole city.”
Alice dropped her back at the hotel to pick up her car, idling by the curb for a moment as the late-night crowds on Sunset streamed past: hustling toward fast-food outlets or the impatient lines snaking outside every club. Above them, the Chateau Marmont’s turrets glowed in their spotlights, towering over the boulevard like a film set plucked from a different era.
“Chris is having a brunch thing tomorrow,” Ella said, collecting her things. She gave Alice a hopeful smile. “There’s some kind of sports game on TV, but I usually just hang by the pool during all of that. Want to come to my place around eleven? He’s sending a car for me—isn’t that ridiculous?”
Alice paused. “All right,” she agreed slowly. “My flight back isn’t until Saturday.”
“Then I have time to talk you around.” Ella grinned. “I have excellent powers of persuasion.”
Alice smiled softly. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”
She drov
e back to her hotel deep in thought. Ella’s proposition was ridiculous, of course, but there was a certain neat symmetry to it that Alice couldn’t help but find appealing. Right then, their lives—and identities—were tangled in all kinds of difficult ways, and the challenge facing Alice now was how to extract herself from whatever world Ella had created, without jeopardizing the contacts or reputation she’d managed to achieve, in Alice’s name. Or was that Angelique?
Sighing, she parked and strolled into the hotel. She would have to find some way of taking her identity back that didn’t do Ella any harm. Despite everything, she was still loath to report her to the police, and if she—
Alice stopped, noticing a rather familiar body slumped on one of the couches in the lobby. He was unshaven and clearly jet lagged, but her heart leaped just the same.
“Nathan?”
He jolted awake, blinking at her. “Hey, there you are.”
“What are you doing here?” She took a step closer, reaching out a hand to help him up. He glanced around, disoriented, before turning back to her. Then he stopped, giving her one of those half smiles that still did curious things to her.
“Looking for you. I figured you might want my help tracking Ella down.”
Alice looked up at him. “But you said I had to stop.”
“Which would have been the sensible thing, sure.” He tugged her closer. “But since you seem determined to find this woman…”
“I did.” Her reply was muffled as she pressed herself against his shirt. God, it felt good to be near him again. Bracing herself for disapproval, Alice closed her eyes and admitted, “I spent the evening with her.”
Nathan exhaled, but Alice felt no tension in his movement. Instead, his tone was even. “How did that work out for you?”
“No bloody idea.” Alice drew back and gave him a rueful smile. She paused. “I’m sorry, about the lies, I really am. But none of this was about you.”
He sighed again. “Yeah, that was kind of hard to take.” He held her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. “So, how about we make more things about me? You know I crave the attention.” His tone was joking, but when Alice checked the look in his eyes, she saw that he was truly sincere. He meant it.
She smiled, realizing what it must have taken for him to come all this way. She mattered to him, after all. “I can definitely manage that. How does the rest of the week sound? You can help me decide what on earth I’m going to do about Ella.”
“I take it throwing her in jail isn’t an option?” Nathan hoisted his bag up onto his shoulder.
Alice laughed.“I’m afraid not. But hey, you can use your imagination.”
“Great,” Nathan drawled. “But when this is figured out, I want to get, far, far away from her. I’m thinking a hammock somewhere…You in a tiny bikini…”
Alice raised an eyebrow. “If it’s really important to you, then I’m sure I’ll find the strength.” She grinned. Alice held out her hand, and he took it. “I have to warn you though,” she sighed, nudging him in the direction of the elevators. “The beds here leave something to be desired.”
“I haven’t slept in days. I’ll be out in a flash.”
***
Despite her own hectic day, Alice only drifted in and out of sleep, watching Nathan’s body beside her as dawn light began to seep into the room. He lay with one arm thrown across her, rolling to unconsciously mirror her position should she turn away.
So this was it.
Alice felt a slow warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the sun spilling through the ugly drapes or the heat gently radiating from Nathan’s bare skin. This was what she’d been watching all these years, the intimacy to which she’d only ever been a spectator. He was hers, enough to come all this way for her, at least, and stay—not because he agreed with what she was doing but because he’d thought that she might need him. She watched him shift, stretching as he woke.
He yawned. “Man, you were right about this mattress.”
Alice smiled as he tugged her closer. She rested her head on his chest, tracing slow circles above his heart.
“So what’s the plan for today,” he asked, the words vibrating gently against her.
Alice paused. “I’m meeting Ella,” she ventured, but aside from a slow exhale, Nathan didn’t offer any argument. Alice pulled away slightly, so that her face was on the pillow next to his, just inches away.
“And?”
This time, she was the one to sigh. “And…I don’t know. She doesn’t have any answers for me,” Alice admitted.
“I’m sorry.” Nathan gave her a faint smile. He reached over, toying with loose strands of her hair.
“Sure you are,” Alice lightly replied.
“No, I am. I know you wanted…something from her.”
Alice gave a rueful shrug. “But it doesn’t work like that, does it?”
Nathan was the rare exception, but Alice knew the truth: people didn’t come through with the answers or explanations that would make everything all right. She still hadn’t heard a word from Julian about his drunken advances, and some painful instinct told Alice that even if he did try now, it was already too late. Just like that, a friendship could be over; and equally fast, something new could be forged.
But what of Ella now?
“I can’t report her,” Alice said, still almost whispering in the stillness of the early morning. “I can’t be the one to send her to prison. It’s just so…extreme.”
“So what will you do? You have to end this somehow,” he pointed out, serious. “Before she gets you in real trouble again.”
Still, Alice didn’t have a solution. “She has a life here,” she told him, a little wistful. “A flat, and a kitten…I’m meeting her friends, for brunch.”
“Maybe there’s another way,” he suggested. “I’ll look into it.”
“I thought you didn’t break the rules.”
He leaned closer, kissing her softly. “Let’s just say we’re bending them.”
***
Alice left Nathan sleeping again and drove the route to Ella’s from memory, stopping at that hippie café for muffins and coffee.
“Ella?” Juggling the bakery bag and cardboard cups, Alice pushed through the open front entrance and tapped at the door to the ground-floor apartment. “Ella, let me in, I come bearing caffeine.”
There was no reply.
Alice was just about to bang harder, when she noticed a pale blue envelope taped to the doorframe, her name written on the front in Ella’s familiar scrawl. It held a single sheet of paper and a set of keys. She knew in that moment what it meant, and that Ella—whatever her real name—was already long gone, but still Alice unlocked the door, set her things down, and began to read.
I’m sorry.
I know I promised not to run, but I can’t risk it, not now that you’ve found me. I don’t know where we’ll go yet, but I’ll be fine, I always am.
Alice stopped. She checked the apartment quickly, but the wardrobe was empty, and all Ella’s personal possessions gone. There was no sign of the kitten either, and outside, the driveway was empty.
Wandering back inside, Alice stood in the middle of the polished floor, the slip of paper in her hand. She kept reading:
The apartment is yours, so is the office. The leases are in your name anyway, for the next six months. There’s a bank account too, if you want it—I left a file by the fridge with all the ID and documents. If not, then there’s a shelter downtown that always needs the money. Maybe you could volunteer there, too. I was going to start next week.
I really am sorry it turned out like this.
I suppose I just can’t help it in the end.
X
She was gone.
Alice lowered the letter, looking around her as if for the first time. The apartment was old but charming, with bare floors and large windows, a blue-tiled kitchen area, and a large bedroom with fresh linens stacked at the end of a wrought-iron bed. Outside, she could s
ee a square of overgrown garden, dense and green with bushes and even a few fruit trees.
It was hers.
The file of documents was where the letter said: a fake driver’s license sitting next to Alice’s original birth certificate, bank details, and a half-finished application for citizenship. And stacked neatly beside them all was a small pile of business cards, elegant in a simple charcoal script: Angelique Love, Agent.
Taking her coffee, Alice drifted out to the back porch and settled on the old wooden love seat, reading the brief note again. Ella was right about the view. The city sprawled below her in a neat grid, sun falling on Alice’s bare shoulders with a warmth that was unimaginable for this time of year back in England.
She could get used to this.
Alice stretched. Chris’s car would arrive soon, and she would have to fabricate an apologetic excuse for Ella’s sudden departure, but that would be no trouble. An ill relative back in England, perhaps. They would be sympathetic and pass on their best, and soon—all too easily—Ella would be forgotten.
There was an irony to it, Alice knew—the ease with which she could slip into this life. If she chose.
The day stretched before her, full of promise. There would be a delicious brunch with Chris and his friends and that midday swim; then the afternoon with Nathan, lounging perhaps on the beach—or in bed. She should really start to call those casting agents too, and set up some auditions for Rupert…
Alice stretched out in the sun, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the possibilities.
About the Author
Abby McDonald grew up in Sussex, England, and studied politics and philosophy at Oxford University. She began writing in college, completing her first novel before graduating to work as a music journalist and receptionist extraordinaire. She is now a full-time novelist and screenwriter; she’s the author of The Popularity Rules and the young adult novels Sophomore Switch; Boys, Bears, and a Serious Pair of Hiking Boots; and The Anti-Prom. She currently lives in Los Angeles, California. She is twenty-five years old.
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