Page 90 of Alice Carver Manifests Her Perfect Life
Guy knew where Arrie’s farm was. I told him the other week. I tried not to blink. ‘Little Minchcombe. Cotswolds.’
‘That’s barely an hour away. Why aren’t you using this opportunity to get some fresh images?’
Harry began confidently, ‘I want the fullest profit margins, there’s no plant cost to spare here—’
‘Who would need to go on the shoot?’
The way he interrupted Harry Piles, and the way Harry Piles just shut the fuck up, had me squeezing my knees together.
‘Well, obviously a couple of Design,’ said Cara, ‘Stephen and Jadan, and Alice, but it wouldn’t—’
‘Do the shoot,’ said Guy. ‘Thanks.’
Then he stood up abruptly and left the room.
I zoned out for the meeting, fantasising about various scenarios of telling Harry Piles I was shagging his boss.
Minutes later an email pinged up on my screen from Guy.
Ask your sister if we can shoot next Monday. You babysit on Saturday. I’ll come up and see you on Sunday.
I emailed him straight back.But you could bump into the others?
Leave that to me, Alice. Maybe it’s time we move things forward anyway. I’ve got an extremely busy week and I’d like to see you next weekend.
Possibly the sexiest experience without having sex ever. Guy Carmichael has commandeered me and the work environment and I love it.
My intention is:
To ask Guy if he’s still got his army uniform to hand.
Date: Thursday 16 FebruaryTime: 10.05pm
My thoughts and reflections:
Guy’s booked the Lamb for Sunday night. I explained it would be awkward staying at the Lamb because of my family’s connection with the owner, but Guy just said, ‘Well, Alice, you just keep on getting better. In that case we’re definitely staying at the Lamb. I’m starting to think that for someone who moves in all the right circles, it’s remarkable you haven’t made more of it.’
I told Astrid that I thought it was a lovely way of putting it and that Guy clearly respected me and acknowledged that I’d built my successes independently. ‘Or,’ said Astrid, ‘he can’t believe how you’ve managed to mess up all the opportunities you’ve been handed in life. I mean, it is remarkable.’
That stung. Especially with all the manifesting I’ve been doing. I’ve taken every opportunity I could. In fact, earlier this week, I gave Guy a very quick hand job in his office whilst everyone else was out for the fire alarm, plus we fitted in half an hour together on Wednesday evening in his serviced apartment. So, in total, two sexual encounters in a week that he explicitly said was ‘extremely busy’: if that’s not maximising opportunities, I don’t know what is.
Astrid said that servicing my married boss in secret, for free, was hardly ‘résumé material’.
‘It’s not all about my career,’ I said. ‘I also manifested a proper relationship and I would say that’s working out pretty well so far. He’s booked a night in a hotel for us both. A whole night together. That’s significant.’
I’ve bought some La Perla knickers and matching bra (on offer because of Valentine’s) in a shade of dark red that totally does it for men of a certain age who went to single-sex public school. It’s the kind of underwear that Monty would have gone full-on puce-eared for. I can’t really afford the spend, but it’s an investment. And it’s all paying off – I’m almost slightly taken back by how fast it’s moving with Guy. A night away is the kind of commitment I wasn’t expecting for another few months at least. Apart from the author he had the affair with that triggered the separation from his wife, word on the floor was that when he did hook up with someone, it was a handful of times at most, and then he moved on. He made it clear he was not up for commitment and got spooked if anyone even hinted at wanting more. If I’m completely honest, I’m a tiny bit spooked myself. I’ve not really seen Guy in nonwork clothes. What if he’s wearing Vans or something frightful? Obviously dream come true that we’re having this night together, but it feels like quite a big step and is really not ideal to take such a step at a hotel owned by Matthew Lloyd. Would be awful to bump into him.
The problem with that visioning board I made is that Matthew Lloyd is always there. In my room.
At some point I’m going to have to work on manifesting that house. I’ve been putting it off. But for now, given I’mdoing so well on the relationship front, I’m going to focus my manifesting on the work aspect more. And on getting more respect from friends, colleagues and family. Mind you, now Cara’s on board, Yazhasbeen a lot more respectful. Drunk Stephen has also been more grateful since I secured us this trip to Arrie’s. Previously, he hasn’t exactly been supportive about the Guy thing; he’s gone on a lot about the power dynamic, saying that my love language ‘took acts of service to new depths of sadness’. But now he’s benefiting vicariously, he’s stopped reminding me to write everything down ready for HR when Guy tries to send me to Scotland. In fact, he helpfully suggested that I tell Guy that my love language was receiving gifts, and that a new coffee machine in the kitchen would definitely merit a blow job.
Oh my goodness – I almost forgot – Lydia called me Alice the other day! I don’t know how Guy’s managed it: suffice to say he’s not just pure filth in the sack, he’s evidently a master manipulator of people too. That’s power for you. And it’s sexy as fuck. On reflection, I am absolutely ready for Sunday.
I am letting go of:
The fact I can’t tell Harry Piles I’m shagging his boss.
Date: Saturday 18 FebruaryTime: 11.30pm
