The Agent

by Ellen Lane

  But that was part of her undeniable charm. She adored Catherine – so much so that she routinely dealt with Elias, who she was convinced had been born to torture her.

  Michael often joked that his best friend was a male image of Alice and the young woman wished her brother wouldn’t insult her so. Elias, despite his sex, was far higher maintenance than she would ever be, and she teased him for it endlessly.

  Whenever there was something she needed, she called Cat, trying to forget that she even had Russell’s number on her phone.

  Somehow, she made it through a hectic four weeks, conveniently missing every call the man paid her and skiving off all his text messages. She slowly accumulated an amalgamation of lovely furniture and artwork, decorating the space she lived in, in an effort to forget that it was, in fact, Russell’s. Part of her was convinced that if she filled it with enough of herself, she’d be able to avoid thinking of the man altogether.

  Of course, no such thing happened.

  Right up until the day she left for the airport, she thought about Russell by pure virtue of trying not to think about him. It was more than a little ridiculous, and she couldn’t count how many times she chastised herself for it. Alice tried to make herself feel better by asking Michael to stock all of her favorite things on his jet, which he was sending to LA to pick her up. She would be in the UK for ten days, and for that ten days, she wanted zero distractions from her lovely niece.

  Unfortunately, she was destined to face one last obstacle before she could leave the country. Alice and Tom arrived at the airport a good three hours before the plane was scheduled to arrive – she was keen on getting in some duty-free shopping before they took off. Somehow, she managed to forget that Russell was flying to England on a similar timeline.

  So, she was completely unprepared when she ran into him at the terminal.

  She had just sent Tom to make sure the flight was on time, planning on buying up the entire perfume section of the duty-free shop before her when she turned to see him standing at a restaurant across the corridor.

  With his lady friend in tow.

  For a moment, Alice was so shocked she could do nothing but stare. She’d spent the last month flagrantly avoiding him and now, here he was.

  With another woman.

  Alice had dated her fair share of men – and she had ended things countless times. After her volatile teenage years, she hadn’t spent a lot of time crying over men who treated her like chattel. She could leave a man and see him in the tabloids with another woman the next day – completely unmoved.

  Things with Russell weren’t nearly so serious. They had gone on a few dates and shared a few kisses…but Alice felt her entire world come crashing down at the sight of him with a svelte, lovely blonde.

  She immediately hated her.

  Everything from her bleached hair to her Botoxed lips screamed artificial – something she hardly needed envy.

  But she did. Bloody hell, she did.

  Alice quickly spun around, all but fleeing into the shop, even though her interest in perfume had waned significantly. Her chest felt tight, her throat constricted and she couldn’t even see the names on the bottles she perused.

  Damn him. Damn him. It was as if the man was trying to flaunt his options before her – to remind her how little he needed her.

  Well, two could certainly play that game.

  “Tate? Alice Tate?” She jumped at the sudden, enthused voice that sounded right behind her. When she turned, it was all she could do to keep a smile plastered on her face. The bleached blonde was standing right behind her, beaming a thousand-kilowatt smile. “I thought that was you. I never imagined I might run into you in a place like this?” Somehow, her tone managed to be condescending and admiring all at once.

  “I’m sorry,” the designer managed through gritted teeth. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

  “Alice?” And there he was, his expression only mildly surprised. When Russell’s deep blue gaze fell on her, Alice wished she could sink into the floor and disappear. “Does your flight leave today as well?”

  Why else would she be in the bloody airport? For sport? “It does.” Somehow, she managed to keep her smile in place. “My brother’s jet is coming to get me.”

  “It must be fabulous having a plane at your beck and call at all hours.” Alice didn’t think this woman’s tone could be any more derogatory if she tried.

  “It is rather nice.” Alice didn’t usually subscribe to paying the moneyed debutante, but some people were worth insulting. “Are you guys ready for your flight?”

  “Oh, I’m looking forward to it.” The blonde clung to Russell’s arm so tightly Alice wondered if it might not come off. “So much to do, so little time.”

  Alice wanted to strangle her. What an insufferable little twat. “Well, I wouldn’t want to distract you.” Her jaw hurt from the effort of being pleasant. “I hope the two of you enjoy your-”

  “You’re not distracting us at all!” The blonde insisted, making Alice wince at the tinny timbre of her voice. “I’ve actually been trying to get in contact with you for the past year about commissioning a gown! I have to admit that until I saw you in the paper I wasn’t one hundred percent certain what you looked like, but now-”

  Russell must have sensed the thorough verbal dressing down on the tip of Alice’s tongue as he interrupted abruptly. “Alice, this is Melanie Byers, she’s one of my newest clients. Melanie, you’ve obviously recognized Alice Tate.”

  “Of course, I did. Her face has been everywhere since the two of you became an item.”

  “We’re not an item.” Alice set out to quickly steal those words from Melanie’s mouth. She also didn’t like the way the little hussy implied that Alice was only famous because she’d been seen with Russell. “Just friends.”

  “Oh, come now,” Melanie’s tone sounded almost as if she was considering Alice a child. “There are so many pictures of you two looking so very cozy-”

  “Excuse me.” Alice couldn’t take much more of this. She was certain she was on the cusp of murder, “I’m sure that Russell must have you under the wrong impression. We just work together. We’ve gone out once or twice to talk work semantics, but that’s all.”

  “Ah, I see.” Instead of being dissuaded, the woman’s expression turned decidedly catlike. “So, he’s available. I suppose I should consider myself lucky to be traveling with him then.”

  Alice didn’t know if she was more disgusted or disappointed in Russell. She might have hoped that a man of his caliber wouldn’t so easily fall victim to women this low. She might be a client, but Alice had never heard of her. As far as she knew, all of Russell’s clients were high profile stars that demanded a large following and substantial respect. This girl was just a snot-nosed brat who didn’t think twice about what came out of her mouth.

  “I suppose you should,” Alice spat the words, frustrated that she had so easily lost her cool. “Look, Miss Byes, if you’re interested in commissioning a gown from me, please get in contact with my London boutique. I’d be glad to assist you then. You two enjoy your trip.” With that, she abandoned her perfumes and swept from the shop, where Tom was waiting for her.

  She was halfway back to her gate, and she thought she’d escaped when a hand closed firmly over her shoulder. Alice whirled to see Russell standing over her, his expression apologetic. He looked so bloody magnificent that Alice almost wanted to forgive him.

  Almost.

  “Alice…please. Let me apologize for Melanie.”

  For Melanie. He wanted to apologize for that slip of a girl who obviously didn’t know her arse from her elbow? Alice could care less about her. What she wanted was for the man to apologize for his own behavior. To tell her what an absolute cad he’d been and assure her that she was the only woman that he wanted to see. But of course, Russell Darwell would never make such an outstanding commitment.

  “Think nothing of it.” She didn’t bother to smile as she waved his apology
off. “Just keep an eye on that one. She’s bound to get into trouble in London.” When she made to step away again, Russell’s hand closed around her wrist, preventing her from moving more than two steps. Immediately, Alice stiffened, fighting the tide of warmth that washed over her at his nearness. “Please, let me go, Russell.” She murmured softly, hoping that she could keep her temper.

  “Alice…I…I hope you understand that there is nothing between Melanie and me. She’s young and impulsive…but she has a bright future as a vocal artist.”

  Of course, she did. “There’s nothing to understand, Russell. She’s your client. I’m sure she’s paying you well.” It was as low as she was willing to go, insults-wise. “I’m sure I’ll see you after we both return. I can’t imagine Regina will be finished complaining about her costumes.”

  All at once, Russell’s expression went stern, his mouth pulling into a tight line. “Alice.” It was perhaps the second or third time she had provoked an honest reaction from him, and as much as it surprised her, Alice also relished it. “I never meant for Melanie to insult you and I never meant…I never meant to run into you like this.”

  “I’m sure you never meant to run into me at all,” she returned flatly. “You made that very clear when you rebuffed my offer to travel together.”

  At that, he seemed taken aback. Russell opened his mouth, seemed to think better of what he was going to say, and then shut it. His face took on the same mild expression he always seemed to wear – the one made to please everyone who took it at face value. “Alice, I only wanted to…to keep from hurting you.” With that, Russell sighed, running a hand through his hair before he turned away. “My apologies. Enjoy your time with your niece.”

  And just like that, he was gone.

  Alice stared after him, a turmoil of confusion churning within her.

  What on earth was wrong with this man? First, he wanted her, then he didn’t, and now he made it seem like he genuinely cared for her well-being after letting one of his clients insult her. He must be out of her mind.

  Alice needed this time away. If she didn’t take it, she might very well snap.

  For her first few days in London, Alice was so consumed with the tiny new arrival to their family that she actually managed to achieve her goal of forgetting Russell. It was the first time in a long time that her family and friends had all been together at the Tate manor. For once, the immense house actually felt full. Alice was there, and by some miracle, she had gotten her parents to allow her to bring Tom for once. Michael and Rose were staying in his wing of the house with Victoria, and Elias and Cat were also present with the almost one-year-old Liam. Atop that, Rose’s parents had come to stay and take place in the festivities as well, and the babies were passed around relentlessly.

  Ever since their family had almost torn itself apart with Rose and Michael’s betrothal, things became a lot more intimate, and stood less on ceremony, which Alice could almost certainly appreciate. The first day she got back, she went to brunch with Cat, Rose, the matriarchs of both the noble families and both the babies.

  There were no men allowed, and she couldn’t remember ever having more fun. She saw her own mother toy with baby Victoria as if she herself was a young woman again, and Rose, already well on her way to her post-baby body, indulged herself with two whole glasses of wine. She and Cat regaled one another with their best stories of motherhood, while Alice listened almost jealously.

  Of course, she hoarded Victoria as much as Rose would let her. In person, the child was just as breathtaking as she’d been in all the images Michael sent. Even more so. Alice could already think of at least ten outfits she wanted to make for baby Vicky, and a visit to her boutique and workshop ensure that her spring line contained a number of pieces for infants and toddlers.

  At home, every meal was a family affair, with two children making the house almost rowdy. The Tate manor was, once more, full of life, and for once, Alice could see her brother at the head of a family generation not even half as stuffy as the last.

  Of course, eventually, Victoria had to sleep, and Rose with her. Breastfeeding, the blonde confided in her, was exhausting in and of itself, and so she gratefully lied down to take a nap with her infant daughter.

  Somehow, among all the siestas everyone was taking, Alice found herself alone with Elias and Michael in the study. Catherine’s husband, Alice had to admit grudgingly, was quite a good father. But she had to admit that was probably because he wasn’t nearly so callous with his son as he was with everyone else he interacted with. It was perfectly normal for Elias to go from crooning a song to Liam to a sarcastic, biting insult to Michael in the same sentence.

  Alice could only marvel at the transition.

  She watched Elias toy with Liam’s tiny fingers on the piano of the study before blithely telling Michael he needed to change the whiskey he drank because it was atrocious.

  “Your manners are atrocious, Elias.” Alice snapped, sipping at the tea Annie, the housekeeper, had brought them. “In front of your son, no less.”

  “I’m trying to teach him to have good taste in whiskey.” Elias replied, glancing over at the dark-haired woman witheringly. “Not that you’d know anything about that.”

  “You wouldn’t know good whiskey if it bit you in the arse.” Michael chuckled, sipping from the half-full glass he poured himself after tea. “So, don’t criticize my tastes.”

  “Watch your language in front of your Godson, Mike.” Elias chided teasingly, making his friend roll his eyes.

  “I can only imagine what you’re teaching him behind closed doors.”

  “How to be a world-class architect,” Elias rebutted, “just like his mother and father.”

  Alice couldn’t argue there. Though Elias might annoy her unto the ends of the earth, there was no denying the man’s talent when it came to architecture. Once he met Cat, who had also been an innate talent, he groomed her and nurtured her skills until she was on par with himself. Together, they were a powerhouse.

  Even if Alice couldn’t understand the attraction.

  “He looks like his mother.” Alice grinned playfully. “Good on him.”

  Elias merely sighed, cutting his eyes at her as he lead Liam to play a particularly loud note. “I think I’ll teach him to ignore insipient women who insult his father needlessly.”

  “Calm down, you two.” Michael laughed, setting his glass on the table. “This is supposed to be a family time. Don’t perfume the manor with your animosity.”

  Alice merely rolled her eyes. “Not my best friend.”

  “You know, Alice, I look forward to the day you marry and settle down. Then, perhaps, you’ll be done with all your jealous machinations.”

  His words hit her a little too close to home and Alice scowled deeply. She wasn’t jealous. Why on earth would she be jealous of Elias? The man had his head up his arse. And as much as she loved Cat, she didn’t envy her being married to such a big-headed man. What on earth was there to be jealous of? Sure, they had one another, and they seemed to be desperately in love both with one another and their son? So, what if both they and Michael seemed to have the fairy-tale love that Alice had been certain didn’t exist before she saw it with her own eyes. She didn’t need that. She was successful in her own right. She could have any man she wanted!

  Any man, that was, except for Russell Darwell.

  “I don’t have any jealous machinations, Elias. Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance. As I recall, you nearly drove Cat away with your priggishness.”

  As always, Elias let averse comments slide from him like water. “And yet here I am, happily married with a son. I would think of a notorious playboy like myself can settle down, Alice, you might not be a lost cause after all.”

  Somehow, Alice managed not to throw her priceless heirloom family teacup at him. Michael must have sensed her growing ire, as he leapt to his feet and stepped between them before she could launch herself at the architect. “Elias doesn’t mean anything by it, Alic
e. He’s just being…Elias.”

  That was the man’s greatest bloody crime.

  Alice merely sighed, leaning back against the couch and glaring daggers at the man before pouring herself another cup of tea. Without missing a beat, she reached for her brother’s whiskey to spike it, making him snort in laughter.

  Michael sank down next to her on the couch before expelling a long breath that warned her what was coming. Alice downed her entire cup of tea before turning to him a beat before he started to speak.

  “I have to admit, Alice. I have been worried about you.”

  She sighed. She accepted this, she reminded herself, because it was evidence that her brother cared for her. “What are you worrying about now, Michael?”

  The older man merely scowled at her. “You always make this like squeezing blood from a turnip. All I want is to ensure your happiness.”

  Alice merely set her teacup down, bracing herself for the inevitable argument as Michael went on. "I saw you’ve been in a couple of papers with Russell Darwell.”

  Well, that was the last thing she expected. She wasn’t aware that her brother looked at the international papers, and Alice had been fairly certain that nothing from the LA Times bled over to Britain. At least, she thought she’d been.

  When she rebutted, she kept her tone light. “So? What of it?”

  “Well…didn’t you say you had no idea where you stood with the guy? That you weren’t sure if he was interested in you?”

  That had been two months ago, and Alice didn’t know if she was any more certain how the man felt about her. “Something like that.”

  Michael only continued to stare at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. “Well…obviously you’ve spent some time with him. Did you change your mind?”

  This was the last thing Alice wanted to talk about currently. After all, she’d come back to the UK to forget the man and celebrate Vicky’s birth. Not to be interrogated about him.