“So how is Flora?” Ella asked, as Alice tugged at the hem of a sundress in yet another dressing room. “Still deep in wedded bliss?”
“I think so. We haven’t talked in a while.”
Ella shook her head. “I can’t believe she’s married. God, I can’t believe anyone’s married. Or buying property.” She gave Alice a good-natured nudge.
“I’m only thinking about it!” Alice protested. “And just because some of us feel it’s time to start acting grown-up…”
“Don’t!” Ella put a hand to her forehead, feigning a swoon. “You’re all the same. Thirty comes looming on the horizon, and suddenly, it’s all mortgages and savings accounts and panicking because you haven’t signed your unborn children up for kindergarten yet.”
They were silent for a moment, Alice staring at her reflection. Thirty. God, she had been trying not to think about that, but Ella was right. There was nothing like the big three zero hanging over them to make every choice seem so much more…urgent. She had always thought she’d be settled by now, with a partner and a home and a solid, fulfilling career. If Alice was entirely honest, it was the reason she’d spent the past five years scrupulously saving for her deposit, as that birthday hurried ever closer. She needed something to show for her life, after all.
“What’s wrong?”
Alice looked up to find Ella watching her. She shrugged, reaching for a belt to try with the dress. “Oh, nothing. I’m just wondering what to do about work.” Pausing for a moment, Alice finally admitted what had been itching in the back of her mind for months now. “I’ve been feeling sort of…restless.”
“The dull monotony, you mean?” Ella adjusted the belt, then added a silk scarf at Alice’s neck so that she looked like she’d strolled out of La Dolce Vita. “I still don’t see why you don’t make the switch to agenting. After all, you can manage all the contract stuff already, and you must know exactly what to do from watching Vivienne. And what not to do,” she added with a grin.
Alice exhaled. “I don’t know…I’ve talked about it a few times with Vi, but she’s not convinced. Besides, agents need to be ruthless. Hustlers, you know?”
“Alice Love can be a hustler!” Ella protested. Alice fixed her with a dubious look. “OK, so maybe you’re not slick and insincere like that Tyrell guy, but that should be a good thing. What was it he said to me that time? He’d enjoyed connecting with me. Ugh.” Ella shuddered. “I’m not a bloody power socket!”
Alice laughed. “No, it’s fine. I’m OK doing what I am right now. Besides, I could always see about moving to a bigger agency, doing contracts at one of the corporate places.”
“You mean processing twice the paperwork for half the satisfaction?”
“But three times the money.” Alice grinned.
Ella tutted at her. “There’s more to life than cold, hard cash, my dear.”
Alice tutted right back. “Tell that to my mortgage adviser.” She looked at her reflection again, trying to see past the black bra straps peeping over the neckline and her boring French braid. “All right,” she decided, realizing her lunch hour was dangerously close to being over. “This is the one.”
She quickly changed back into her work clothes, Ella waiting with her at the front counter while the saleswoman packed her purchases in tissue paper and a crisp paper bag. “What about you—anything thrilling planned for the weekend?”
“Hmm…There’s always yoga.” Ella met Alice’s eye for a moment, and they both laughed.
They’d met in the polished exercise space of a local gym, suffering through the strenuous contortions of a beginner’s class. By the time the goateed instructor decided to turn the heat up another five degrees “to really let them sweat it out,” Ella and Alice had suffered enough. They made their escape when he went to change the CD, dashing from the room to the strains of Peruvian panpipes.
“And…” Ella added, looking hesitant. “I might have a date.”
“Ella! You didn’t say.”
Ella blushed. “I know, a rare and momentous event. It’s a setup, though, so bound to end in disaster.” She sighed. “A friend of a friend of Julie’s, at the office.”
“Ah, the wonderful Julie.” Alice had heard plenty of stories about Ella’s co-worker’s need to fix up everyone in sight. “What do you think, will you—?” She stopped midsentence. The saleswoman was waiting with an impatient expression.
“It’s been declined.” She dropped Alice’s card on the counter with a sneer.
Alice frowned. “That’s impossible, I just…Never mind, use this one.” She found her wallet again and passed her backup credit card.
“Anything wrong?” Ella asked.
“No, it’s fine.” Alice shook her head, while the woman ran up the sale again, this time keeping a suspicious eye on them, as if they were about to bolt. “Probably just a mix-up with my bank. They’ve canceled that card three times this year. Last time, they said they sent me the wrong color, can you believe? Like it makes a difference.”
“Ugh,” Ella agreed. “Mine’s not too bad, if you need to switch. Except I have to spend about an hour on hold every time I want to reach an actual human being!”
***
It wasn’t quite an hour, but after being shuffled between three different departments that afternoon—all of them with a tenuous understanding of the words “I didn’t order this”—Alice finally gave up on the mystery of the jewel-encrusted vibrator. As far as she could tell, she hadn’t been billed for it, so wrapping the box in a fresh layer of packing paper, she printed up the return address and reached to add it to her stack of post. There was a moment when she wavered, looking curiously at the dull gleam of the metal and its strange curves, full of promise. Turning the box over in her hands, she wondered, could it really be worth so much?
Alice smiled to herself. It was unlikely. For all their aesthetic appeal, toys like this were for people who preferred the accessories to real sex, the performance rather than the act. Alice had never been one to bind herself up in uncomfortable lingerie or fuss over dripping candles. No, she preferred a little more honesty in life. Tossing the package aside, she turned her attention back to her stack of paperwork.