Page 42 of The Reality of Us
It was time to stop caring about what could go wrong and fight for what she wanted for her future. Her business was taking shape at a rapid rate and now she had a new look, no one could deny she’d changed.
This was her chance to control the narrative.
Let people know she wasn’t the silly pushover they’d always assumed she was.
Put her money—and her heart—where her mouth was and back herself. It was hypocritical to try and sell the idea of The Emancipation of Alice if she wasn’t going to behave differently.
But a bad taste lingered in her mouth.
Fear.
Alice took a deep breath. Noticed the oversized birds of paradise on either side of the salon doors. The tumble of the dryer in the small back room. The French pear diffuser on the counter. She was bigger than her fear.
She had to be.
She pulled out her phone and found Owen’s contact.
Alice: Let’s burn all of Phoenix’s shit to the ground. It’s time for the real emancipation of Alice.
She cleared her throat. Lulu and Joan looked up. “I’ve had an idea,” she said.
A vision of Owen flashed before her, his brown eyes focused … encouraging.
“I want to make special edition candles that benefit different charities. I’d donate all the profits, and I’d like to do one for Kathleen’s Place. What do you think?”
The ladies exchanged a look, but it was Lulu who smiled first. “We’re not in the habit of saying no to fundraisers. This will pair beautifully with the calendar and Owen’s big race.”
“What race?” Alice asked.
“Some adventure thing,” Joan said.
“He’s a good one.” Lulu’s smile widened. She looked almost predatory, which was weird, right? “Makes me proud all the time. All my boys do.”
“I heard he rescued your puppy last week.” Joan’s eyebrows crept towards her fairy floss-coloured hair.
The intricately woven cane basket that stored the spare towels suddenly seemed very interesting. “He’s a very good swimmer, which is lucky.” Was Alice’s face on fire? It felt like it was.
“Must be those big feet of his,” Joan teased. “You know what they say about big feet …”
Good God, the woman was a grandmother. And Owen’s mother was sitting right there. Alice blushed.
Based on the way his pants had been glued to his body, despite the cold temperature, his foot size was … ahem … accurate. But Alice didn’t say that.
“I wish someone would jump into a dam for me.” Joan sighed. “So romantic.”
An itch crawled across Alice’s skin. “It was for Murphy.”
It was quite impressive how Lulu and Joan snorted in unison.
“Owen isn’t interested in me—he literally told me he finds me unattractive—”
“What? I raised him better than that!”
“—and even if he was, I’m in the middle of a divorce. A boyfriend is the absolute last thing I want right now.”
“Who said anything about a boyfriend?” Joan asked. “Have some fun. I bet Owen could be fun. You could be friends with benefits!”
Lulu nodded. “Or … what’s the other name for it? Some type of buddies …”
