Jessica Hart - British Bachelors - Perfect and Available

Vaguely disturbed, Allegra bent her head over her notebook. She was listening to the conversation between Max and Darcy as unobtrusively as possible and scribbling notes for the article she would write up when the final task was completed.

The article that could change her career and put her in a position to apply for jobs on magazines with a little more gravitas. If she got it right.

So why was she letting herself be distracted by the way Max’s smile had suddenly started catching at the corner of her eye, the way it had suddenly started making her pulse kick as if it had startled her?

He was only smiling, for God’s sake. She wanted him to be smiling at Darcy. She was supposed to be pleased with the way it was going, not feeling cross.

Darcy was telling Max a long story about the house she was having built, and he was offering advice about foundations and geological surveys. He’d obviously forgotten her advice about being witty and charming, but Darcy was hanging on his every word.

Disgruntled, Allegra gave up listening after a while. She wasn’t going to fill her article with engineering talk, however fascinating Darcy might find it. Dom had taken his pictures and left some time before, and she let her pen drift: Derek the Dog dancing on his hind legs, Mrs G tipsy on cocktails, Flick smiling proudly—Allegra had to imagine that one.

Then she sketched Darcy leaning forward, lips parted breathlessly, and Max himself. But somehow she found herself drawing the Max she knew, the Max who wore a crummy polo shirt buttoned too high at the neck and lay on the absurdly feminine sofa, king of the remote, and she felt a pang of something she chose not to identify.

‘Hey, those are great!’ Darcy leant across the table and plucked the notebook away before Allegra had a chance to react.

She studied the drawings, chuckling. ‘Who’s the cute dog? Look, Max, that’s you...’ Her smile faltered as she took in the polo shirt. ‘At least...?’

Max peered at the sketch. ‘Yep, looks like me.’

Allegra was blushing furiously. ‘They’re just doodles...’

‘No, really, they’re very good,’ said Darcy. ‘You clever thing.’ She tapped a finger on the picture of her. ‘You’ve caught me exactly, hasn’t she, Max?’

‘It’s unmistakably you, but a drawing can’t really capture your charm,’ he said and Darcy laughed her trademark husky laugh, delighted, while Allegra concentrated on not throwing up.

If she wasn’t much mistaken, Max was flirting. He must really like Darcy. Perhaps it was time to leave them alone. Ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach, she took her notebook back from Darcy. ‘I should go.’

‘Don’t go yet.’ To her surprise, rather than wanting to get rid of her, Max handed her the drinks list. ‘If you’ve finished working, you might as well have a proper drink.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Darcy with a sunny smile. ‘You deserve it for setting up this article. I just know we’re going to have a good time.’ Her fingers teased Max’s shoulder and Allegra’s fingers tightened around the menu. ‘I can’t believe Max here hasn’t been snapped up already, can you?’

‘It’s beyond comprehension,’ Allegra agreed, but then made the mistake of glancing at Max. A smile hovered around his mouth and, for no reason she could name, her mouth dried.

‘Try something with a ridiculous name,’ he said, deadpan, and nodded at the drinks list. ‘I’m longing to make a fool of myself ordering for you.’

Allegra swallowed and wrenched her gaze away to concentrate fiercely on the drinks list. Could she be coming down with something? She felt feverish and twitchy, and a nerve was jumping under her eye.

The list kept swimming in front of her eyes and she frowned in an effort to focus, but whenever she did the only cocktails that jumped out at her were called things like Screaming Orgasm or Wet Kiss. This was supposed to be fun. She should take Max up on his challenge and make him order something silly.

Why couldn’t she grin and say: I’d like a Sloe Screw Against the Wall, please, Max? Could I have Sex on the Beach?

But all at once her throat was thick and she was having trouble swallowing. She handed the list back without meeting his eyes. ‘I’ll...er...have a martini, please.’

‘Chicken,’ said Max, beckoning over a waitress.

Darcy started to tell Allegra about a shoot she’d been on the day before. She knew Dickie and Stella and a host of other people at Glitz, and she was so friendly that it was impossible to dislike her, in spite of the way she kept flirting with Max, little touches on his arm, his shoulder, his hair. Every now and then her hand would disappear under the table and Allegra didn’t want to think about what she was touching down there.

Allegra kept her attention firmly focused on Darcy’s face, which was easier than being stupidly conscious of Max sitting next to Darcy and not looking nearly as out of place as he should have done. More and more, Allegra was convinced that she was sickening for something. She didn’t feel herself at all. She was glad when the drinks arrived, but she drank hers a little too quickly and, before she knew what had happened, Darcy was beckoning for another one.

‘You’re one behind us,’ she said gaily.

FOUR

So Allegra had another and then she and Darcy agreed to have another. Why had she been so uptight earlier? She was having a great time now, exchanging disastrous date stories with Darcy while Max sat back, folded his arms and watched them indulgently.

‘Like you’ve never had a disastrous date,’ Allegra accused him, enunciating carefully so as not to slur her words.

‘What about this one?’ said Max.

‘We’re talking about real dates,’ she said indignantly.

Darcy nodded along. ‘When your heart sinks five minutes in and you spend the rest of the evening trying to think of an excuse to leave early.’

‘Or, worse, when you really like someone and you realise they’re just not that into you,’ said Allegra glumly.

A funny look swept across Max’s face. ‘I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,’ he said.

Darcy had already moved on. ‘I blame my father,’ she said. ‘He’s spoilt me for other men. None of my boyfriends has ever been able to live up to him.’

‘You’re lucky to have a father,’ Allegra said wistfully.

Her birth certificate just showed her mother’s name. Flick refused to talk about Allegra’s father. ‘He was a mistake,’ was all she would ever say and turn the subject.

When she was a little girl, Allegra had dreamed that her father would turn up one day and claim his daughter. She could never decide if she’d rather he was a movie star or the prince of some obscure European principality. Usually she opted for the latter; she thought she would make a good princess.

But no father ever came for her.

Thinking about fathers always made Allegra feel unloved and unwanted. If she wasn’t careful, she’d start blubbing, so she smiled instead and lifted her glass. ‘Oh,’ she said, peering owlishly into it when she discovered it was empty, ‘let’s have another round.’

‘I think you’ve had enough,’ said Max, signalling for the bill instead. ‘It’s time to go home.’

‘I don’t want to go home. I want another martini.’

Max ignored her and put a surprisingly strong hand under her elbow to lift her, still protesting, to her feet. ‘Can I get you a taxi, Darcy?’

‘You’re sweet,’ Darcy said, ‘but I might stay for a while.’ She waved at someone behind them, and Allegra turned to follow her gaze. ‘I’m just going to say hello to Chris.’

‘Omigod, you know Chris O’Donnell? Allegra squeaked, but Max had already said a brisk goodbye and was propelling her towards the exit while she gawked over her shoulder in a really uncool way.