I say nothing. Sometimes keeping your mouth shut works best. And she’s not telling me anything I didn’t know or at least suspect. But still…to be honest, when it comes to today’s shenanigans, I’m more averse to the idea of people trying to inflict change on me than I am to getting pampered. It’s worth remembering that Beck likes me how I am. At least, I think he does. He never mentioned me being fundamentally lacking in all the ways and needing the overhaul they clearly intend to perform. Maybe it slipped his mind?
No. Nope. This I will not believe.
This is all such a trap. The clothes and accessories and so on. When do you stop and feel like you’re enough? Pretty enough, smart enough, good enough? There’s an edge of desperation to it all that makes me uneasy (even more so than general). And yet I want to fit in and make Beck proud. But look at me, I’m like the anti-Selah. Big where she’s little, clumsy where she’s graceful. No way will I ever compare. Guess I’m just going to have to settle for being me. Albeit a slightly slicker version of same.
“I’ll take her to the salon and spa,” says Selah in a not so happy tone.
“Aw,” says Emma, “what a lovely bonding experience that’ll be for the two of you.”
I down the Dom. It’s not bad. “Fine, I’ll go. But I can find my own way. I’m sure Selah has better things to do. Where did the clothes I arrived in go?”
Selah doesn’t even hesitate. She also doesn’t meet my eyes. As liars go, she kind of sucks. “Probably sent to the dry cleaners. Wear one of the new outfits.”
“Are you lying to me?”
Emma cackles like an evil witch on her way out the door. “Have fun, ladies!”
“Selah, did someone throw my stuff out?” I ask with more than a tad of aggression. “Because that is not okay. At all.”
Her eyes and mouth widen. Not sure if it’s fear or surprise or what. “Now, Alice…”
“You are fucking kidding me.”
And Selah gives me a most put-upon expression, accompanied by a heavy sigh and tired eyes. “Look, I’m not sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me. Rachel’s instructions for you were detailed, to say the least.”
Curbing my need to swear is a major victory. These people are the worst. If anything has happened to my Austen shirt I will burn something down.
“But I’ll see what I can do about finding them.”
“Thank you.” I do not sound appreciative, but oh well. It’s been a long day.
“As for the other matter…look, we don’t have to like each other. Given the situation it would be bizarre if we did. But just because I’d make a convenient villain doesn’t mean I am one.”
I think it over. “Out of curiosity, are you going to be making a play for Beck?”
“He and I have some things to discuss.”
“Not sure he’d agree with you.”
Her lips flatline. “That’s between me and him.”
“You’re right, we’re probably not going to be friends,” I say. “But I don’t have the energy for making enemies. At least, not today.”
“Let’s just be superficially nice to each other and get this done, okay?”
“Get what done, exactly?”
She finishes her champagne. “It’s just a tidy up. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it.”
“Because I basically like me how I am and don’t see the need for radical change just to please you asshats?”
“Wow,” she says, brows raised. “Did you pick the wrong boyfriend or what?”
It would be great to hit something. Even being pretend-nice to these people is hard. “All of this isn’t for Beck; it’s for his family.”
She just smiles. “Same thing, Alice. They’re the same damn thing.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“Miss, can I help you?” asks the bellboy.
I’m standing outside a spectacular big old hotel, generally getting in the way, and cluttering up the sidewalk. I don’t know what I’m doing here. Maybe this is a mistake. I’ve stayed in many motels over the years, but never an actual hotel. Mom and Dad were into camping trips for family holidays and it’s not like I’ve had the money to splash out. Yet here I am.
After the salon and spa, Selah shoved me into the back of another vehicle. The driver could have dropped me at the wrong place. Though given the recent turns my life has taken, probably not.
“Miss?” the boy repeats.
At least I now look the part with my glossy ponytail, perfectly painted black nails, and makeup. I feel like chonky Cinderella. Never has my cat-eye eyeliner been so perfect. My designer jeans are high-waisted with pleats, worn over a white T-shirt bodysuit, with a black Burberry trench, and a sweet simple pair of Manolo Blahnik suede flat mules in black. This is my casual outfit. Because even if the weather allowed for it, flip-flops and denim cutoffs aren’t done in Beck’s world, apparently. I picked out a couple of other outfits for more dressy occasions. At least the family can no longer accuse me of being a total embarrassment.
“I—I, um…” I stutter. So just a seventy percent embarrassment then.
“It’s fine. I’ve got this, Sam.” Beck strides out of the beautiful boutique hotel in a navy suit. When he looks me over, he’s doing the careful blank face thing again. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“They attacked me with your credit card.”
He sticks his hands in his pants pockets. “Rachel only said she was taking you out. Said she wanted my AMEX in case something caught your eye. I assumed several somethings did because the concierge mentioned they dropped off your things earlier.”
“I don’t mean to be overdramatic, but…they did things to me,” I say. “What do you think?”
“What do you think?”
“What do I think you think or the other way around?”
“The other way. I think.” He frowns in thought. “It’s been a long day.”
I look down at myself. “I’m not sure. I guess I like it. Some parts of it, at least.”
“Well, I like the parts that you like.”
I smile.
“But mostly I just like you.”
“Thank you. I like you too.” I take a small step forward, pressing my lips gently against his. An innocent enough kiss, given we’re in public, if a slightly long one. The minute I’m close to him, everything feels better. Like I belong right here regardless of hair, waxing, or designer goodies. “Couldn’t help but notice the name on the building. I guess hoping the Heritage was just like a coffee cart or something was kind of stupid of me.”
“We do have a coffee shop here, if that counts?”
“Not a bit. What else do you have?”
“Allow me to show you, fair Alice.” He holds out his elbow for me to take. “Welcome to the Heritage.”
There’s lots of glass, painted black walls, and various art deco features. Makes sense since it’s got to be about a hundred years old. Farther in, dark paneled wooden walls lead up to antique light fixtures hanging on the high ceilings. Velvet sofas, long low coffee tables, and leather wingback chairs. Modern art mixed with more old-world type antique pieces and large fresh flower arrangements. This hotel is so cool it hurts.