“Um, all right…” Alice looked around, still not sure what they were doing there. She had a sneaking suspicion it related to Ella’s grand partnership proposal, but surely she hadn’t been serious?
She was. Ella unlocked the last door, throwing it open proudly to reveal a large, L-shaped space with white walls, bare, wooden floorboards, and wide windows.
“Is that the ocean?” Alice asked, walking over and resting her forehead, cool against the glass. It was nothing more than a stretch of black beyond the cluster of lights, but she watched it nonetheless.
“What do you think? We wouldn’t need a waiting area because of the reception out there, of course. So, this could be our office space. Or we could split it, for privacy. A wall here, maybe.” She paced the floor in illustration.
“You actually mean it.” Alice didn’t know whether to laugh or sink to the floor, worn out. She did the latter, stretching out flat on the smooth surface, enjoying the chill where it touched her bare skin. It felt as if everything were drifting away from her, here in the dull gleam of late night and bright golden lights: the expectations, all her fierce determination.
Whatever it was she’d needed so much from Ella, Alice knew now with absolute certainty, she wouldn’t get it.
“It’s far-fetched, I know.” Ella took a seat, cross-legged next to her. “But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t work.”
Alice could think of a hundred reasons why not.
“I can’t trust you,” she started quietly, but even as she said the words, she felt the strange déjà vu of familiarity. It was like they were lounging back at her flat or on Ella’s living room floor, after one too many glasses of wine. But those days were long behind them, and even if Alice had kept them in the back of her mind during all this tracking and trailing, they were empty memories of something past. She sighed, rolling her head to the side to look at Ella. “Even if I understand, how it all got out of hand, and you never meant to hurt me…I can’t trust you.”
“Not yet,” Ella agreed, a note of optimism in her voice. “But…you could, with time.”
Alice looked at her. “Is it my friendship you want, or just the guarantee I won’t turn you in?” Ella made as if to protest, but Alice gave her a weary smile. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing here, Ella. The more tangled up I get in this agency, and all your plans, the more trouble I’d get into if I ever revealed the truth. This isn’t a partnership, it’s an insurance policy.”
Ella paused, rueful. “Can’t it be both?”
Alice gave a tired laugh. The strange thing was, she didn’t even blame her for trying. Ella was building a life here, after what had probably been years of fleeing from one fraud to another, so it was no wonder she was so eager to cling to everything she had.
“You know me,” she said, curious. “You know I wouldn’t agree to this, so why even bother asking?”
Ella looked at her carefully. “I don’t really, not anymore. The Alice I knew would have sent the police straight for me. In fact,” she said, with a glimmer of a smile, “the Alice I knew wouldn’t have wasted her time trying to track me down. Can you really blame me for trying?”
Alice was silent. She had changed, of course, and perhaps not in the most law-abiding of ways, but setting up here with Ella seemed more concrete than any white lies and minor break-in.
“You’d like it here,” Ella said, still sounding hopeful. “The weather is wonderful, for a start, and the men all adore the accent. We’d have fun.”
We. Again, with the collective nouns. But for all the time they’d spent together while Ella was in London, theirs had not been an enduring friendship, with history to cling to, like Alice had with Flora or even Cassie. In fact, Alice wondered with new clarity, if the end hadn’t come with so much drama and confusion, would she feel such an emotional pull toward Ella at all?
She’d been chasing somebody—something—that didn’t even exist.
“Think about it, at least?” Ella spoke again, her control clearly slipping. “You’re finished at the agency—you need a new job. It could be an adventure!”
Alice sighed. “Ella…”
“I want to stay,” she said stubbornly. “This time, I want my life to be something real.”
“Without earning it?”
Ella gave a sharp laugh. “Who earns anything these days?”
“Then what’s stopping you doing this with your own name? Your real one,” Alice tried, watching for any sign of emotion.
Ella just gave Alice a look, unreadable, but tinted with some defensive shell. “That’s not going to happen,” she replied, and her tone was so final, Alice knew it to be true.
“Then, I don’t know what to say.” Alice looked around the polished room, bright from the spotlights, and full of potential. It would be fun here, in the sunshine—that much was true. And with Rupert already wanting her to represent him, and all the contacts she could make…
Alice shook her head. “It’s late. I need to get some sleep.”
Ella looked at her, uncertain.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Alice reassured her, even though she had no idea what more could be said.
“And you’ll think about it?” Ella helped her to her feet.
Alice nodded. However absurd Ella’s plan, Alice could sleep on it, at least until she found some other solution.
“But can I even trust you not to run?” She stopped halfway to the door, turning back to Ella. “This won’t work if you’re just going to bolt the minute my back is turned. The police dropped their inquiries ages ago,” she added. “And nobody knows where you are.”
Ella nodded, giving Alice a small smile. “I’m staying. I promise,” she vowed. “I told you—I’m done with that. I want something normal, for a change.”
“You call the Hollywood Hills normal?” Alice mocked, with a faint grin.
“Don’t knock it.” Ella laughed, switching off the lights behind them and locking the doors up tight. “I’ve got a view of the whole city.”
Alice dropped her back at the hotel to pick up her car, idling by the curb for a moment as the late-night crowds on Sunset streamed past: hustling toward fast-food outlets or the impatient lines snaking outside every club. Above them, the Chateau Marmont’s turrets glowed in their spotlights, towering over the boulevard like a film set plucked from a different era.