Page 120 of The Match Faker

‘At the office. Had to work late.’ She waved her hand dismissively. ‘Are those the new Louboutins? And is that dress a vintage Roland Mouret?’

I frowned and was about to say she was crazy because I couldn’t afford either when I remembered I was wearing the stuff Liam got me.

‘Yeah, the shoes are Louboutins.’ I was so shocked when I saw the red soles. ‘Not sure if the dress is a Muret.’

‘It’s Mouret,’ Alice corrected me. ‘Celebs like Meghan Markle used to wear his designs all the time.’

‘Oh.’ I shrugged.

‘Actually,’ Liam jumped in, ‘that’s not the Roland Mouret. We destroyed that one… remember, babe, in the kitchen?’ The corner of his mouth twitched mischievously.

My eyes widened and heat flooded my cheeks as I remembered him ripping it whilst I was spread across the marble island.

‘Yeah.’ A grin spread across my face. ‘I remember…’

‘The dress my gorgeous girlfriend is wearing is a Victoria Beckham.’

‘Really?’ Alice gasped.

‘Only the best for my lady.’ Liam pecked me on the cheek.

My heart fluttered. I hadn’t paid much attention to the label, but Alice was into this stuff, and as silly as it sounded, it was nice to have something better than her for a change.

And it wasn’t just my outfit she was jealous of. It was Liam too. I hated when she always used to flirt with him. Actually, now was a good time to have that little chat.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Alice. Liam mentioned that on the day he left for Spain, he asked you to pass on a message for me to come and see him urgently, but you didn’t. Why?’

Her face fell.

‘What? I don’t remember that. Anyway, that was years ago.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Did I show you the diamond necklace Jack got me for our anniversary?’

‘No,’ I muttered as we took our seats.

‘Let me see if I have a photo.’

She’d deliberately avoided answering the question, which made me think that she did remember but was too chicken to admit it. Anger bubbled in my chest. As Alice scrolled through her phone, Liam reached under the table and squeezed my hand. I instantly felt better.

‘You still like rice and peas?’ Mum asked Liam as she returned to the dining room with Dad, clutching various dishes.

‘Yes!’ Liam’s face lit up. Looked like he was giving himself a well-earned break from his strict eating regime. ‘Have you made curried goat too?’

Mum nodded.

‘She remembered how much you used to like it,’ Dad added.

‘Never understood why it’s called rice and peas,’ Alice tutted. ‘Peas are green. Those are kidney beans with rice, not peas.’

‘It’s what we call it in the Caribbean, so that’s just how it is,’ Dad said.

Alice had never been a fan of the Jamaican food Mum and Dad cooked, like curried goat, which as the name suggested was pieces of goat in a curry sauce. She didn’t like eating carbs either. I couldn’t imagine a world without rice, chips, pasta or pizza.

‘Don’t worry.’ Mum walked towards the kitchen. ‘I made you a salad.’

Once Mum returned to the table with Alice’s salad, we all got stuck in.

‘So,’ Mum said as she finished a mouthful of rice. ‘It’s so nice that you two lovebirds finally made time to come and have dinner with us.’

‘We’ve both been really busy,’ I replied.

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