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Rockstar vs Heiress (Love in Illyria Book 3) Page 6
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Now the place was closed to the public, and only the most special Pellerin creations were still made in the old place.
She was going to have delicious tea and try on glorious dresses after an hour under Didier's hands. She hated to admit it, but it sounded heavenly.
#
The simple cut of the dress was elegant, and from the front it didn't look at all that extravagant. It was as comfortable as any brocade dress that showcased feminine curves could be. And then there was the back of the dress. A whole different story there.
"This is a good look for you," Leonie said.
Alice turned around, glancing in the three mirrors strategically arranged to allow her to see how the back of the dress looked. She would appreciate the deep scooping back if anyone else wore the dress. Even with her gorgeous new hairstyle, the dress was far too revealing for her comfort.
Nine strings of iridescent pearls covered and uncovered her back. They rolled on her skin along with the rhythm of her breath. The constant sensual stimulation was distracting. She wouldn't be able to wear that dress even if no one saw her. And yet…she couldn't take her eyes off the images in the mirror. It looked absolutely gorgeous. She looked absolutely gorgeous. Ugly duckling Alice Lewis had never looked so beautiful.
"Maybe for another occasion," she said. "The Autumn Ball is a black-tie charity event, but this dress is a very strong fashion statement. I'll be more appropriate in something less over-the-top than this."
It was true but Leonie wouldn't be doing her job if she let it go. She didn't expect her to let go.
"You should get it anyway," Leonie said. "There will be other occasions. You will have to step up your game, Alice. You can't keep hiding in the shadows for much longer."
There it was.
"Why do you even care?" she asked softly, knowing she would not win the war.
Leonie stirred the honey in her tea and placed the silver spoon back in its place with graceful precision before looking up at Alice.
"Because if girls like you and Viola walk away, your place in Illyrian high society will be taken over by women who were not brought up to occupy it."
Vy would flip out if she ever heard her godmother be so bluntly snobbish.
"What does that even mean?" she asked, trying to get a clearer idea about what they had in store for her. "What's so special about how Vy and I were brought up?"
"Don't play the fool with me, Alice. Maybe Viola doesn't see the difference, but don't tell me you do not."
She did see the differences, but unlike her grandmothers and Leonie, Alice wanted to help people overcome their upbringing. Her Salona experiment from the year before didn't give her much hope that she was on the right path, but she believed in the concept.
She ran her hands over the dresses she had already tried on. She picked a long coffee colored dress she quite liked and held it in front of her looking in the mirror.
The fact that Leonie mentioned Vy, and Vy's mother telling her in passing that she and Leonie had met the week before warned her that the trap was not set just for her.
"I'll do what's expected of me," she said, "because I don't know how to do anything else. But if you think I'll influence Vy to do the same, you're wrong."
"Why would I think that?"
"Because you mentioned it to Adeline. She thinks it's my merit that Vy is back in Salona."
"And isn't it?"
It was more her fault than her merit. Her being in Salona made that place a good option for Vy to run away from her problems for a while. But Leonie shouldn't know that. As always, Alice saw it as her duty to keep Vy and her secrets safe.
"Please stop trying to get your claws into Vy. She is not like you."
"Like us," Leonie corrected without malice.
"I'm not so sure I'm much like you, either."
"Don't lie to yourself, Alice. You're more like me than you want to admit. You've always been a scary little girl," Leonie said with a thin and almost friendly smile on her perfect lips. "I was wondering why Adeline wasn't more upset about Viola's choices last year. What did you tell her to make her come to terms with her daughter's betrayal?"
She hadn't done much. She'd just showed up in their house at the right times, watched Sing with Adeline and Paul for the first few episodes. She got more involved in Adeline's charities. She told a few stories about Vy's exploits in high school which reminded Adeline what amazing person her daughter was and that she was going to change the world her own way.
"You make it sound so dramatic. She went on a TV show, she didn't sell state secrets to a foreign power."
"Viola broke her mother's heart, and you fixed it. She will never know how much you work behind the scenes to allow her to have her little rebellion."
Yes, that was something they could use against her. She did work behind the scenes to keep Vy's world a warm and happy place, and she didn't want her best friend to know. Vy was taking things head on, and a lot of the times, Alice had no way of helping her.
"Leonie, please. Promise me you'll let her be. I can be your pet project if you want, but let Vy walk her path."
She was going to do it sooner or later anyway. Clara Pellerin would not rest until she fell in line with the family expectations. Might as well ensure Vy's protection if she could.
Leonie studied her carefully, running scenarios of possible futures. Alice imagined the scales in her mind, weighing pros and cons.
"If I promise, you won't fight me? You will come to social events and not skulk around in the corners? You will start actually showing your face and taking credit for the charity work you already do anyway?"
She hesitated. She had to promise to give up all the coping strategies she used so far at social events.
"Yes," she said eventually. "I have a question though. How come everyone was so much against Vy's singing career, but no one seems to have a problem with the fact that I'm in a band?"
She could guess the answer. The question was meant as a test, to see if Leonie would lie to her.
"You're not at your best in the limelight," Leonie said. "Successful politicians embrace the attention, they don't cringe from it. Vy's personality was beautifully suited for public office."
She went back in the changing room, to take off the dress and get back to her regular clothes.
"You will be a wonderful politician's wife," Leonie said when Alice joined her at the tea table. "You will wield more power than your husband."
She barely contained a gasp of shock.
"My husband? Are you saying it's already decided?"
"There was a short list. And since you didn't hate each other at first sight, why change anything?"
At least she liked Christian. It wasn't going to be that much of a sacrifice to marry someone gorgeous, smart and who made her laugh.
"So, I'm going to marry Christian Sinclair. Has the date already been decided for us?"
It felt so surreal to talk about it with Leonie instead of have this talk with Christian. At some point.
"In a few years, after you graduate and start your career. He can win the mayoral elections without being married, but for Parliament, he will need a wife."
Most people in her world didn't marry for love. Her parents had done it, but they'd been lucky. Their mothers being so close, Gregory Lewis and Lara Pellerin had been brought up together. If it had been up to Clara and Tatiana, Lara and Gregory would have married into other families, to expand the influence and the wealth, but not even they had been able to stand in the way of true love.
She wondered if Leonie would understand that. Marrying for love, not for power.
"Was it the same for you?" she asked.
"Pretty much," Leonie said. "It's not a bad system."
She didn't sound bitter or cynical, and Alice dared to hope that things might work out after all. Her study of history had taught her that marrying for love was a relatively new concept.
"Are you happy? Or is that a naive question?"
"Not naive.
Somewhat beside the point. I am happy with my life. My husband and I have a better relationship than most people who married for love. Trust and common interests make for a more stable marriage than passion."
"What if I say no?"
"He's a good choice for you, but it defeats the purpose for you to be constrained to marry anyone. If either you or Christian are not on board, we'll just look for other options."
It made sense in a way. They wanted strong alliances that would endure against the pressures that would come. If the foundation was flawed, the house would fall. She had known long ago that love wasn't part of her future. Trusting her partner was more likely to make her happy than love ever could.
"In a strange and twisted way, you care, don't you? We're all pieces on the board, and even if you're one of those who make decisions, you're a piece on the board yourself."
"Very well said," Leonie agreed.
"Thank you for being so upfront about everything."
She was truly grateful for Leonie's honesty. Much better than have this conversation with either of her grandmothers. Her parents were most likely oblivious to the game.
"I'll wear this at the Ball," she said, pointing at the silk coffee colored dress.
"It's very serious," Leonie said, and smiled, "but so are you."
She couldn't quite let go of the pearl dress. She reached toward it, and ran her fingers over the embroidered brocade. Sometimes the heart wanted what the heart wanted.
"I'll get the other one for the Observatory fund raiser, next month."
Chapter Ten
Alice
ALICE LOOKED at the song Andrew had given her for Tyler. His notes filled the margins of the sheet music. She'd been listening to the song on her ride from Salona to the Sing House. It was a very good fit for the boy, and it gave her a good starting point to steer him into opening up about his troubled past.
She thought about how much Tyler's rough childhood resembled Will's while she was sounding out the song on the piano. Her mind wandered while she played the melody. She started violently when the door opened.
"Where's Andy?" TC asked.
"Good afternoon."
With a quiet click the door closed and cut them off from the rest of the world. Even after spending so much of time with him, her breath caught in her throat. She glanced at the clock on the wall. At least fifteen minutes before Tyler was supposed to show up. Maybe he'd be early for once!
"Remains to be seen. So? Where is he?"
He stalked over to her and made a grab for the music sheets. She pulled them out of his reach at the last moment.
"I have the room for today," she said.
"It's not what I asked."
He sat down next to her. The piano stool was wide, but not quite wide enough for two people. His skinny body radiated an insane amount of heat. Not skinny anymore, she realized. He'd put on a bit of weight since they started work on the new Sing season. He was still thin, but she could see muscle definition in his arms. He wore t-shirts often enough and she had an eye for detail when it came to him.
She scooted as far as she could but she decided to stand up when she was about to fall off the edge. He didn't seem to notice, and made himself comfortable in front of the keyboard.
Her outraged exclamation at being practically pushed off her own chair died in her throat at the sight of his long elegant fingers the ivory keys. She didn't want to annoy him so she didn't interrupt him to ask if it was one of Vy's new songs.
"Do you like it?"
"Yes. One of Vy's?" she dared to ask.
"No."
He seemed sad. She could deal with annoyed Carter. She could deal with mischievous Carter. If she had to, she could deal with sad Carter, but she didn't like it. She didn't want to dwell on the reasons he might have for being sad. It was no longer her job to study him.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, hoping that lunch might lift his spirits.
He shook his head. He played the unknown melody again, with a slight change, which made it sound even more heartbreaking. She shouldn't ask. She didn't need to ask. She definitely didn't want to know the reason why he was so down in the dumps.
As if hearing her thoughts, he changed the subject abruptly.
"What would you change if you were President?" he asked out of nowhere.
They had ended up talking about contemporary Illyrian politics a few times. He must have picked up on her interest, but she didn't feel comfortable talking about it. Her discussion with Leonie was too fresh in her mind. She would be the power behind the throne. She tried to deflect the question.
"How much time do you have?" she said trying to make it sound funny.
It didn't work. Carter was not in a state of mind in which jokes could work.
"I have time," he said looking at her with one of the most serious expressions she had seen on his face.
He had everything under control at Sing. Even if Vy didn't give her details, Alice knew that everything was well at his studio and with his band. Something must be troubling him at home.
She made a last attempt to veer off the subject.
"My friends know better than to ask me about this."
"Maybe we're not friends," he said somberly.
"Maybe not," she echoed his tone.
She couldn't stand to see him so mopey. This man had the energy to light up a stadium in his concerts. It was unnatural to see him so low.
"Fine," she relented. "If you really want to know, I have a detailed plan about changing the education system in Illyria. The current system is still based on the post-World War II strategy. We have updated the hardware in our schools but we haven't updated the way we think about education. This is the moment where most people start to have that glazed look in their eyes," she said, uncomfortable with the intensity of his attention.
"I'm not like most people."
He spoke in a serious tone, but the energy was back behind the cold eyes.
Of course he wasn't. She knew that all too well.
He was about to say something else when his phone rang. His muscles tightened as if he expected a blow, but he relaxed a fraction when he saw who was calling.
"Hello, mother," he said. "Anything wrong?"
She walked to the window, to give him a modicum of privacy. Tim's complicated relationship with his famous mother was one of the many things she had guessed about him from interviews.
Barbara Saxon had been the star of her generation. One of the leading ladies of Illyrian theater. She was semi-retired, but sometimes they worked together on stage.
During her TC research phase, Alice had watched many interviews with the two of them. Barbara and her son were excellent actors in everything except behaving like a loving mother and child. The respect for each other's artistic abilities was real, but not the love.
And yet he had relaxed to know she was calling him. Instead of whom? She shook her head. She should stop analyzing him. He was her friend now. The days when he was a study object were gone.
"Sorry about that," he said, joining her by the window. "My mother. Have you ever seen her on stage?"
"Yes. My grandparents took me with them to the theater all the time when I was a child. She is their favorite actress."
And you are mine. She dug her nails into her palms to stop herself from saying that aloud.
"I must have seen every play she's ever been in since I was five," she went on.
"Then you must have seen my debut. I was 'a boy' in Much Ado about Nothing."
"That was you?!" she exclaimed.
He burst out laughing, and squeezed her shoulder affectionately. Her heart skittered. It was a gesture Andrew often used to convey affection, and she could accept it from him with joy and pride. Tim's touch, as always, electrified her. His innocent touch didn't fill her with the same carefree satisfaction for a job well done.
One of her permanent objectives was to make TC relax and not be a complete jerk to everyone around him, but when he touched her, he became a r
eal person, and that made it difficult to be objective.
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When the phone rang at what Alice thought was an ungodly hour, she first thought it was her alarm and she was late for class. She bumped her knee into the wall trying to get out of bed on the right side. That was a good clue that she wasn't in her room in Salona. She forced her eyes open and saw that she was in her own bedroom, at home. That meant it was... Saturday?
The phone kept ringing. She reached to the nightstand and tried to feel around for the phone, but it fell from her awkward fingers. She yawned and stretched hoping it would stop. It didn't so she leaned over the edge to fish it from under the bed. It kept slipping from her grasp and by the time she retrieved it, it had finally stopped ringing.
The display informed her she had one missed call and it was almost ten in the morning. The previous day's memories reasserted themselves. Sebastian had dropped her to her parents' house after 3 in the morning. Their recording session had run a few hours longer, as it always happened whenever Andrew was with them, then they had gone to gone out to eat together.
It had taken her friends a couple of months to get used to the fact that Andrew King was a regular person, not an actual god. It took him a little longer to relax enough to joke around with them, and from then on it got all but impossible to finish her nights in Orsino at a decent hour.
Sebastian had talked her into staying late on the grounds that it was Friday and she didn't have to return to Salona until Sunday evening. With Andrew back in charge of his duties at Sing, she had the weekend completely free.
She was basking in the memory of her evening with her friends, when she checked the missed calls.
Isabella.
Chapter Eleven
Alice
SHE DIALED Isabella's number before she talked herself into not calling back.
"Hey, it's Alice. Sorry about not picking up earlier."
"It's ok," Isabella said. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"