Cinderella and the Geek (British Bad Boys)

by Christina Phillips

  Even my own dad didn’t think I was worth enough to keep in contact with.

  Harry’s nothing like my dad.

  He’s not a snob like the girls at school, and he doesn’t care that I don’t look like a supermodel.

  So why was he such a bastard in the car that night? I trawl through my brain, trying to piece things together, but something’s flickering just out of reach.

  I could cut my losses. Never speak to him again and get on with my life. Or I could use his gift as an excuse to get in touch, and see where that leads, because the more I think about that conversation in the car, the less I understand what triggered it all off.

  I grab my phone. But I can’t contact him yet, not right before he’s about to meet his idol and the man who holds Harry’s dreams in the palm of his hand.

  I’ll leave a message this afternoon, asking if we can talk.

  Please say we can talk.

  …

  Harry

  In twenty minutes, Caleb and I are leaving work to meet Oscar Jarrod. I’ve admired him for half my life, and this is the pinnacle of my career.

  So why don’t I fucking care?

  Slouched back in my chair, I glower at my screen, where lines of code beckon me. They’ve never failed to entice me before, but for the last few days, work can’t hold my attention.

  My head’s filled with Alice. It’s like she’s a virus that’s invaded my blood and infected my brain. And I’ve no idea of the cure.

  I can’t get Mackenzie’s accusation out of my mind, either.

  You were having a tantrum because Alice said two words to Lucas.

  I don’t like to admit it, but she’s right. I couldn’t see past the way Clare fucked with me. And it’s driving me nuts because Alice is nothing like Clare, and if I’d stopped to think about it for more than two seconds, I would’ve realized I was acting like a fucking turd.

  Yeah, I was a prat to Alice. But there’s something else gnawing in the back of my mind about that conversation we had in the car. It’s like she’d already decided our relationship was over.

  I was never good enough for you.

  What did she mean by that? I didn’t understand her comment then, and I still don’t. Did someone say something to her at my dad’s, and she misunderstood what they meant?

  It doesn’t sound likely, but I’m out of ideas. Maybe Lucas has a clue. I snatch up my phone and call him before I’ve even finished the thought.

  “Uh.” He sounds like I woke him up.

  “Did anyone upset Alice on Thursday night?”

  “Uh?”

  I repeat myself, already regretting my hasty decision to call my brother, as my question sounds ludicrous now it’s outside the confines of my brain.

  “Not that I’m aware of.” He sounds guarded. “What d’you mean?”

  “Nothing.” I pause. Might as well tell him the rest. “I’m not sure if someone told her she wasn’t good enough.”

  “You seriously think I’d say something like that to her?” Disbelief thuds through every word, and I can’t believe he assumes I’m accusing him. “Fuck you, Harry. If anything, she’s too bloody good for you.”

  “I know that.” I grind the words between my teeth. “It never occurred to me that you’d be rude to her.” Get real, Harry. No one at my dad’s house that night would’ve said anything like that to her.

  “Why don’t you ask her, instead of flinging out accusations?”

  Lucas is so easy going and never gets riled, but he sure as shit sounds pissed now.

  I exhale a long breath. “She left me.”

  “She didn’t make a pass at me.” He sounds defensive. Christ, what’s happened to us?

  “I didn’t say she had.”

  “Okay. Just so you know. And I’m sorry she left you, man. That sucks.”

  Through habit, my gaze slides to Alice’s old office, where I used to be able to catch glimpses of her. Charlie’s there now. Things will never be the same.

  “Listen.” I grip my phone tighter and nearly bail, but it’s long overdue. “You know I never blamed you with what happened with Clare, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He sounds as enthused about this conversation as I do.

  “I got over her a long time ago. You need to know that.”

  “All right.”

  I don’t feel better for having told him, because it doesn’t help my current problem with Alice, but at least now it’s done and we can move on. Have we really been stuck in the same place for more than six years?

  There’s no need to say anything else. Lucas can’t help me, but somehow I can’t stop myself. “I really fucked it up with Alice.”

  “What did you do?”

  Shit, I can’t tell him the truth. Some things are definitely better left unsaid. “I don’t know.”

  “Huh.” My brother sounds as though that doesn’t surprise him. “She couldn’t keep her eyes off you that night.”

  I hadn’t noticed that. But I sure as hell noticed the brief interaction between her and my brother and managed to fuck things right up the fucking creek.

  Caleb strolls into my office and makes a slashing gesture across his throat. “I’ll catch up with you later,” I tell Lucas. “Gotta meet with Jarrod Holdings now.”

  “Good luck. Hope it all works out. With Alice, too.”

  I shut down my work before joining Caleb at the door.

  “I’m shitting bricks,” he announces. “And did I mention I can’t play golf?”

  We make our way downstairs, and the guys throw encouragement and insults as we leave the building.

  “This is worse than when we had the interview at the bank to get our business loan,” Caleb says. “Today could be the most important day of our lives.”

  I grunt, since I know he’s right, but part of me is still chewing over the whole fiasco with Alice.

  “Your car or mine?” Caleb says before answering himself. “Yours. Mine’s a tip. And what’s wrong with you? You’ve not said a word all day.”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me.” I pull the keys from my pocket.

  “Look. I don’t know what you did to stuff things up with Alice, but there’s gotta be a way to fix it. Mac might be able to give you some pointers.”

  I grunt, and he can take that any way he likes. No way am I telling Caleb that Mac’s already read me the riot act. Not least because he’d probably agree with every word she said. I was a fuckwit to even imagine Alice might have a thing for Lucas, and the truly stupid thing is that deep down I never meant it.

  We get in the car and I jam my key in the ignition. But suppose Alice thought I did?

  “Okay. As long as you make things right with Alice. Ah, shit.” He glances at me. “Let’s hope Oscar doesn’t want any photo ops with you and her. You know how much he loved that Beauty and the Geek PR.”

  I round on him. “None of that was for Oscar Jarrod’s benefit.”

  Caleb raises his eyebrows. “I know that. I’m just saying.”

  I grip the steering wheel but still don’t turn on the engine. “She hated all that shit.”

  She didn’t really think I was happy that our personal lives had been splashed across Steele, did she?

  Nothing’s more important than your work, but I always knew that.

  My work’s always been my number one priority, but I’d never use Alice in the way she implied.

  “Bollocks.” I press my forehead against the steering wheel and grit my teeth. I might’ve learned to use my words while dating Alice. Obviously, I’ve a long way to go before I know which fucking words should never leave the cesspit of my brain.

  “Whatever.” Caleb taps his wrist. “We need to go, Harry.”

  I relax my grip and look at him. “I have to see Alice.”

  “I know. But right now, we have to go see Oscar Jarrod.”

  “No. I need to see her today and sort this shit out.” I start the ignition while Caleb gapes at me.

  “You can’t bail on Jarrod
Holdings.”

  “You’ll be there. And I’ll be back for the meeting at Blitz tomorrow.”

  “No, but seriously—”

  “Seriously, you need to get out of the car, Caleb.”

  He swings open the door. “I don’t fucking believe this.”

  “Kill me tomorrow.” If Alice doesn’t first.

  …

  Without any pit stops, it takes five hours before I arrive at Durham. I park as close to the Castle as possible before pulling my phone from my pocket to call Alice. I switched it off during the journey and mentally brace myself in case there’s a stream of vitriol from Caleb at losing Oscar Jarrod.

  There’s only one message. From Alice. For a few seconds, I can’t even open it. What if this is her final go fuck yourself, Harry?

  I flex my fingers. I can’t sit here all afternoon like a prat, although what are the chances she’d message me right now, when I’m five minutes away? Doesn’t matter what she says. I’m not leaving until I’ve seen her.

  Hope everything went well with Oscar. When you’re free, can we talk?

  I exhale a harsh breath. At least she doesn’t sound mad with me, and I shoot off a reply.

  Meet me at the Castle entrance in five.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Alice

  I messaged Harry over an hour ago, and although I didn’t expect him to reply instantly, the longer the silence stretches the worse it is.

  It doesn’t mean he’s ignoring me. It just means he hasn’t checked his phone, or he has checked it, but he’s too involved with the golfing and lunching to break off. Which is fine. I’m not building my hopes up. If he doesn’t reply at all, then at least I have my answer.

  After hanging out for a few hours with fellow students, I’m making my way back to my room when my phone goes.

  Harry.

  My stomach pitches and I suck in a deep breath. Here we go.

  I read his message and it doesn’t make any sense. Unless he’s fucking with me? Except he’s not like that. I hesitate, midway between the Castle and my accommodation block. It wouldn’t take five minutes to reach the Castle entrance, but I still don’t get what he means.

  Well, it’s not like he’ll ever know whether or not I made the trek, is it? After another few seconds of trying to figure it out, I text back.

  OK

  Maybe he’s arranged to have something delivered to me? But if so, why wouldn’t he have it sent to my college direct? And who sends a message like that in any case—I might not even have read it for hours so the whole five minutes thing is just weird. Then again, this is Harry and he does tend to live in his own world at times.

  What’s he sent me?

  I left a few personal items at his apartment, but surely he’s not had them delivered here? If he didn’t throw them out, it’d make much more sense to drop them at home.

  Stop jumping to more conclusions. I grip my phone and pause at the cobbled entrance of the Gatehouse, but it’s impossible to shut my overactive imagination down.

  The imposing Norman archway leads into the courtyard, but I don’t get that far. Because strolling toward me is the doppelganger of Harry Carter.

  Get a freaking grip, Alice. So now I’m hallucinating. Great. I force my feet forward but can’t tear my gaze from the approaching mirage. Which isn’t a mirage at all.

  I stop dead as he halts a couple of feet from me, his hands shoved into his pockets and his glasses pushed onto his head. This is crazy and can’t be happening, but in all the world there’s only one Harry Carter. Except he’s supposed to be three hundred miles away. My head’s reeling, there’s a strange, tight sensation compressing my chest, and I almost expect some idiot to jump out screaming, “Pranked!”

  I hitch in a jagged breath. “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugs, as though the fact he’s here and not where he should be isn’t a sign of the impending apocalypse.

  “Needed to see you.”

  “What?” Have I fallen into an alternate reality? He’s meant to be with Oscar Jarrod today.

  “Look, I was an arsehole. I’m sorry, Alice. I know you’re not interested in Lucas.”

  “Lucas?” Either Harry really isn’t making sense or I’ve managed to lose a trillion brain cells within the last thirty seconds. “I’m sorry, but what?”

  A tortured expression flickers over his face. “That’s why you left me. Because I accused you of wanting my brother.”

  What?! is on the tip of my tongue, but since I’ve already said that twice and am none the wiser, I just stare at him in disbelief.

  His brother?

  I don’t even remember him saying anything like that. Wait, he did mention Lucas a couple of random times, and it made no sense. Is that what he means?

  “No. That’s never—I don’t know why you’d even think that.”

  Oh my God. Yes, I do. Heat rushes to my face that he so easily assumed I’d do the dirty on him, the same way Clare did. And if I’d known he was implying that, I would’ve been furious.

  I wouldn’t have left him over it, though.

  Seems I need to make that clear. “I’ve never been interested in your brother.”

  He hunches his shoulders, and it’s obvious he hasn’t finished. “I never meant to drag you into any publicity stunt for Blitz. I don’t care how good the bloody PR is.”

  Guilt chews through me. My below-the-belt parting shot did hit its mark. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I know you had nothing to do with it.”

  We stand there, avoiding each other’s eyes, and the silence is excruciating. He traveled half the day to get here, to tell me this, but he could just as easily have emailed or phoned, or even sent a text. When I asked can we talk that’s what I meant. I never expected he’d materialize in front of me like a wish come true.

  Something’s happened, and the only thing I can think of is that the prospective deal with Jarrod Holdings has fallen through. And Harry, being Harry, sees nothing extraordinary in driving for more than five hours so he can tell me face-to-face.

  So why hasn’t he, then?

  It’s because he’s so cut up about it. I can’t even imagine how devastated he is. Expanding into the States has always been his dream, and the possibility that Oscar Jarrod was the man who’d help him was the icing and cherry on top.

  I fold my arms so I don’t do something stupid, like wrap them around him. Sure, he’s standing right in front of me, and we’re back on speaking terms, but I have no idea where we’ll go from here.

  I hammer down the urge to do Jarrod physical harm and strive to keep my voice even. “Did Oscar Jarrod cancel his trip?”

  “No.”

  No? That can’t be right. What am I missing? “But you were supposed to be meeting him today. What happened?”

  His brow furrows as though my question doesn’t make sense. “I already told you. I had to see you.”

  “But…” I don’t have any more words so just stare at him in disbelief, but unfortunately he appears to be waiting for me to finish. “But I don’t understand. This is Oscar Jarrod.”

  “Yeah.” He takes one step toward me. “And you’re Alice Wentworth.”

  There’s a weird rushing sound in my head as my brain processes his words. He can’t be saying what I think he is…can he? “You canceled the golf match with Jarrod because you wanted to see me?”

  As soon as the words leave my mouth I know how stupid they are. Whatever Harry means, it definitely isn’t that, and I tense, waiting for his disbelieving laugh.

  It doesn’t come.

  “Just tell me one thing. Do you want me to fuck off and never see me again?”

  “I…uh…” I don’t believe this is happening. “No, I don’t.”

  He takes another step toward me. “I tried losing myself in Exitium over the weekend. For the first time in six years, I couldn’t.”

  “But Oscar can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” My voice is barely above a whisper, and I press my palm
against his heart before I even know what I’m doing.

  “No, he can’t.” Harry’s voice is rough. “He’s not you. I always thought Exitium was all I wanted, but it doesn’t mean anything when I don’t have you in the real world.”

  I have the terrible certainty I’m about to cry and blink rapidly, but everything is still a watery blur. “I can’t believe you’d choose me over him.”

  He cradles my face and stares at me intently. “Why not? Who said you’re not good enough? Because I’ll fucking eviscerate them.”

  “No one.” What do I care if the girls at school looked down their noses at me, or my dad was too shallow to stay in touch with Mum and me? I worked my butt off to get great grades at school, I got into my first-choice university, and the only guy I’ve ever wanted has just driven three hundred miles to tell me how much he needs me. Maybe, sometimes, a girl doesn’t have to choose between having a fabulous career and a gorgeous guy.

  “Does this mean we’re back together?” There’s an adorable frown on his forehead, as though he truly has no idea.

  “Oh, yes. Definitely.” And then I remember. “And thank you so much for the gorgeous gift. I love it.”

  His face clears with obvious relief. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be mad with me or not, but if it makes you feel any better, I got it at a bargain price.”

  Okay, that’s really weird but whatever. “I’m not mad at you. It’s perfect. Tea always tastes so much better from a china cup and saucer.”

  “Does it?” He sounds dubious. “Uh, you’ve used it, then?”

  There’s something a little off about this whole conversation, but I can’t put my finger on it. “Well, no. I only opened it this morning. I, um, haven’t even got it out of the box yet.”

  “Right.” His hands slide from my face, and he takes my hand.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I put something inside the teapot.”

  Why didn’t I check it this morning? “Did you?” I can’t help grinning at him. “What did you put in there? Some teabags?”

  “Car keys.”