The Liberation of Alice Love - Abby McDonald [63]
But this time, Julian wasn’t forthcoming. “It’s an adjustment,” he said, as if trying to convince himself. “It’s been a while since I lived with anyone—except you, of course,” he added. They’d been flatmates for a couple of years, when Alice had first moved to London, during which time she hadn’t lifted a finger in the kitchen and had gained at least fifteen pounds of dessert weight.
“That’s right.” Alice thought hard. “Who was it last? That environmental woman, Whitney?”
Julian nodded. “Whitney…That was, God, two years ago. Or was it three?”
“We’re getting old.”
“Tell me about it.” He sighed, wistful. “And I’m even older.”
“By two whole years,” Alice protested. “That’s nothing.”
“I don’t know…” Julian rolled onto one side, looking at her across their debris. He tilted his head, giving her a curious half smile. “I always thought something would have stuck by now. Someone.”
“Well, Yasmin seems nice enough.” Alice tried to be diplomatic. “She’s very ambitious and together. And you need someone who can keep you organized,” she added, playfully tossing a strawberry at him.
“Why? I’ve got you for that.” Julian retaliated with an olive. Alice caught it and popped it in her mouth triumphantly. “No, the thing about Yasmin, is—”
“There you are!”
They both looked up. The woman herself was approaching, in a crisp emerald sundress with matching sandals. “I’ve been trying to call.” Yasmin stood over them, breathless. “Did you leave your phone off?”
Julian checked: “Oh, yes, sorry.”
Yasmin rolled her eyes. “Jules! This park is enormous, you could have been anywhere.”
“Hi, Yasmin,” Alice ventured brightly. She shifted over to make room, clearing some of their food aside. “How are you?” Leaning in, they exchanged air kisses while Julian foraged for another wine glass and plate. “Thank God you came to help us eat all of this.” Alice added, “I don’t know why, but Julian always buys enough food to sustain a small army.”
“He does get carried away,” Yasmin agreed. Carefully arranging her skirt, she accepted the wine and settled back. “Oh, I need this. They left such a mess at the office; I thought I’d never get away.”
“Well, this is an official stress-free zone,” Alice announced. “Which is why I’m sticking to the review sections. Hand them over.” She passed the news pages to Julian in exchange, stretching out lazily to read while Yasmin updated him on various high-finance wranglings.
“And how about you, Alice?” Yasmin asked eventually. She was resting one hand on Julian’s chest, taking small sips of her wine. “That awful fraud must still be a nightmare.”
Alice looked up. “Actually, it’s all getting cleared up now.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Julian said it was taking its toll.”
“I was stressed, for a while,” Alice agreed, remembering the early, fraught weeks. “But Stefan and his people have absorbed most of the chaos.”
“Crap.” Julian blinked. “I was supposed to get back to him, about that squash match.”
“You mean, squash massacre.” Alice laughed at the idea.
“Hey! I happen to be rather adept with the racket.”
“Adequate, maybe.” Alice smirked. “I remember a certain rather-painful tennis game…”
Julian pointed the baguette at her in mock threat: “Of which we swore never to speak.”
Yasmin blinked back and forth between them. “I didn’t know you played tennis, sweetie.”
“‘Playing’ is an overstatement,” Alice told her with a grin. “Even Flora can beat him.”
“The honor is in the noble attempt,” Julian declared grandly. “And I still say I let her win.”
“Of course you did,” Alice laughed.
Yasmin turned to Julian, stroking his hair. “The company has tickets for Wimbledon next week. We could go, if you want.”
“That sounds great.” Julian lit up. “What do you say, Aly? Come cheer on some other great British failures?”
A look of annoyance flickered across Yasmin’s face, so Alice just shrugged. “I don’t know…”
Julian frowned. “You were just saying you wanted to do something different.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Actually,