All Bets Are On. Charlotte Phillips
a mouthful of bread. ‘I thought that was a given. And you could do worse. A lot easier to start trying out the nightlife, eyeing up the talent, if you’re on the arm of someone at the...you know...hub of it all. He’ll know all the best places to go. You can really get your confidence up instead of sitting on your own in a corner with a mineral water waiting for someone to approach you. Someone totally unsuitable.’
Alice raised offended eyebrows. Tilly jabbed the roll at her.
‘You do have a bit of a history.’
She had to concede Tilly had a point.
Tilly lobbed the remains of the roll in the bin and hoisted herself up to sit on the counter next to the hob.
‘Go on. It’ll be fun. And after this whole betting debacle, what the hell have you got to lose? Can a couple of dates make you feel more of a loser than you already do?’
‘You’re seriously testing our friendship here, you know.’
‘I’m being honest with you like I always am. That’s why you love me!’
Alice stirred the chilli. She had to admit Tilly had a point. Every second of the rest of the day in the office had passed excruciatingly. The bet swamped her mind and she was filled with frustration, hating the fact that she couldn’t face reporting them. Strong Alice Ford, who ate errant juniors for breakfast, couldn’t take a bunch of men to task for messing about in work time at her expense. She had believed herself stronger, more rebuilt than that, and it had crushed her confidence more than she wanted to admit, even to Tilly.
‘What if he’s in on the bet too? Why else would he want to take me out?’
‘Is it really so impossible to believe that he might just find you attractive?’ Tilly said.
‘I’m not the usual kind of girl he goes for.’
Tilly frowned.
‘Maybe he’s upping his game, then. Look, he wasn’t on the list, was he? Are you sure you got a full copy of the names?’
She shook her head.
‘I don’t know... I tore the desk apart looking for a Page Two or, worse, Page Three. That one page is all there was. But I can’t be sure. Even if I asked him he’d deny it.’
Tilly pursed her lips, considering.
‘OK, forget about his motives for a second. Does it even matter whether he’s in on the bet or not? Why not just look at what’s in this for you? Like it or not, you really could do with his input. Don’t you think the insights you could get from dating someone like him, from just watching his behaviour, might be valuable?’
And suddenly there it was.
A flash of inspiration that fell on her like a ton of bricks, a bucket of ice, a jolt of electricity. Not a foolproof way through the minefield that was dating, more an approach to it. One that appealed to her constant desire to be in control, to avoid the pitfalls she’d shown herself to be so susceptible to in the past.
‘Erm, I think that might be burning,’ Tilly said.
Alice suddenly realised the chilli was catching on the bottom and Tilly was staring at her. She shook herself and stirred it vigorously.
‘I could use him to build up a profile,’ she said, thinking out loud.
‘A what?’
She looked at Tilly with sudden excitement.
‘What if I could use him to come up with a behaviour profile? A list of the way players react in certain situations so I can identify that type of man in the future before I get in too deep? I can come up with a list from my own experiences, then test it on Harry. Think about it. Think how much a list like that would have helped me when I was going out with Simon—I would have recognised from the start what kind of man he was and I could have kicked him into touch way before any damage was done.’ And saved myself a whole lot of grief.
‘Harry Stephens is the embodiment of everything I need to avoid in a man.’ She shrugged. ‘Well, except for the chiselled face and super-fit body. He’s the worst kind of player. He has zero regard for the women he takes out but he’s so gorgeous that none of them are able to see past that. I’ve seen enough assistants crying into their coffee over him at work to know that. Well, I can see past that, and I can use him to build myself some dating criteria.’
Tilly was staring at her as if she might be mad.
‘Oh, for crying out loud, you and your lists! You can’t possibly be serious. This isn’t the office—this is the real world. You can’t run every facet of your life that way. It won’t work.’
‘It can’t hurt. How hard can it be? All I have to do is go on a few dates.’
‘While not falling for him. What about that chiselled face and super-fit body? The broad shoulders you told me about? You can’t backtrack now and tell me you don’t find him attractive.’
‘OK, he is attractive,’ she conceded, rolling her eyes. ‘But with his track record, falling for him is the last thing I’m going to do.’
Her mind was running with the idea now, trying to get it off the ground.
‘I could take it step by step. How does a player behave on a first date? How long does it take him to call or text? That kind of thing.’
‘When does he go for a first kiss? How long does he wait before he tries to get you into bed?’ Tilly said.
Sudden heat curled up through Alice’s body and pooled softly in her stomach at the thought. Since it had been three years since she’d had sex she cut her stupid overreacting body some slack and ignored it.
‘I wasn’t thinking so much about the physical side of dating,’ she said through gritted teeth.
‘Well, you’d better get started.’
Tilly jumped down from the counter and retrieved a bottle of wine from the fridge.
‘Because you can bet whatever you like that the physical side of dating is exactly what he’s thinking about.’
* * *
Harry found himself at the office brutally early for a change. Waking early, he had found sleep shoved aside by thoughts of uptight Alice with her work obsession and her challenging attitude. He wasn’t about to be put off by a bit of procrastination. He sought her out at her desk, certain that she would be there despite the crushingly early hour, because she always was. He was right. Perfectly groomed as always, a takeaway coffee on one side of the pristine desk.
She glanced up as he approached.
‘That drink,’ she said, before he had the chance to get back in and start persuading. ‘I’ve thought it over and I’d like to go, if the offer’s still on.’
Bet your life the offer was still on.
He knew once he got her out and alone with him that he could convert the situation into whatever he wanted it to be. Yet the expected stab of triumph didn’t for some reason materialise. After yesterday’s coldness, the sudden change of heart was unexpected and he didn’t miss the cautious tone of her voice or the way she fidgeted with the pen in her hand. He was struck again by how appealing he found her. Had she really not been out with a guy for three years? Despite the severe business dress and scraped-back hair, she was undeniably pretty and smart. What the hell had happened to her to make her withdraw like that?
‘’Course it’s still on. Let me know your address and I’ll pick you up.’
She held up a hand.
‘Please, let me finish. First of all, we need to talk terms.’
Not such an easy victory after all, then.
‘Terms?’
‘Yes,’ she said. She gave him a businesslike smile across the desk, pen twiddling