Page 25 of The Reality of Us
Owen cleared his throat. This he knew about. Eloise had told him about it when he’d called and asked to use her office last week. “They’re looking for somewhere to shoot the annual calendar fundraiser for the Somers Gully Animal Shelter. If we let them use our grounds and split production costs, they’d share the profits with us.”
With its sweeping fields, orchards and rustic charm, Kathleen’s Place would be a spectacular setting.
“But aren’t calendars a little outdated? Everything’s online these days,” Mrs Mandrill said. He’d never be able to call her Joan, even if she did insist on it and have hot pink hair now.
“We could ask Alice to help promote them,” his mum said.
Owen coughed, the mention of Alice catching him unaware.
Lulu tapped on the table. “Owen will ask her, won’t you, darling?”
He leant forward, his palms flat on the table, keen to change the topic. He’d apologise to Nate later, but this might be the push his brother needed to commit. “Nate and I have been toying with the idea of doing the Wattle Valley Adventure Race in August.”
“The one you did with Raff years ago? The charity one?” Lulu asked.
Owen nodded. They’d been lucky and came away with second place ten years ago, but since then, the competition had grown significantly. “There are cash prizes for the top three teams, ranging from ten to thirty thousand dollars. There’s no guarantee we’d place because it’s become a lot more popular, but you can attract a fair bit of corporate sponsorship as well. We raised forty grand, remember? With Nate’s profile, we’d probably raise a lot more than that.”
“It certainly wouldn’t hurt,” Lulu said. “Everyone in favour?”
Everyone nodded.
“Now, onto the next matter of business …” Mrs Mandrill directed everyone to the second page of the agenda.
“Owen …” Lulu elbowed him.
“What?”
“You should bring Alice to trivia. Help her meet folks. People will be more accepting if they see her trying to fit in. I’m sure she could use a friend here.”
He picked up a biscuit and stared at where the chocolate oozed out. His conversation with Alice at trivia flashed to the front of his mind. Followed by her gentle teasing yesterday. “Maybe.”
“What’s with the hesitation? Is it Camille? Because you were always far too good for her.”
“What?” The wooden back of his chair pressed between his shoulders as he slouched backwards. His ex was so far from his thoughts she might as well be in the North Pole. “No.”
This had everything to do with his interest in Alice, not that he’d be telling his mother that.
Interest that couldn’t go anywhere because she was his client.
He shoved the biscuit in his mouth, vowing to call Nate and organise their training schedule. He’d ignore his silly crush and focus on what was important: helping the people who needed him.
9
When the elevator doors opened, Alice froze. Busted. Standing in the middle of her old penthouse apartment foyer were her parents. They wore matching tortoiseshell glasses—green for her mother, brown for her father—and expressions of resignation.
She’d been so busy worrying about a sneak ambush from Phoenix that she’d forgotten it was one of her parents’ signature moves. Alice raised her eyebrows. “Weren’t we meeting at the restaurant?”
There went her plan to cancel at the last minute.
“We thought it’d be easier to talk here,” Marguerite said, smoothing her neat blonde bob. “More private.” Which was code for: we knew you were going to bail on us.
“We brought take away from Madame Fu’s.” Her father, Douglas, lifted a brown paper bag stamped with a dragon logo off the glass-topped table behind him. All Alice had inherited from him was his copper-coloured hair, which she’d been dyeing blonde for years.
“Great.”
“Where’s Phoenix?” her mother asked.
“Sydney.” He’d been tagged in several posts at a trendy café in Bondi less than an hour ago.
