Always You: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection Books 5-8)

by Brenna Jacobs

  The doorbell rang, pulling him out of his thoughts. He checked his security camera on the counter and saw Clarissa standing outside his door. For a second, he debated pretending he wasn’t home until he heard her voice.

  “Let me in, love.”

  The sound of it deepened his regret for not asking Alice to dinner. Spending the day with her had driven home how much he really didn’t enjoy being with Clarissa anymore. Maybe the months he’d spent apart from her had also done that, but he’d never had a day with Clarissa like the day he’d had with Alice. Time with Clarissa usually ended with them doing what Clarissa enjoyed. Like shopping at Harrod’s. He hated shopping.

  Geoffrey took a deep breath and tried to put on a smile before opening the door.

  “Hello, darling.” Clarissa put a hand on his cheek and kissed him. “Where have you been? I’ve been texting you all day.”

  He pulled his phone from his back pocket and saw he’d missed a number of messages from her and his mother. “I’m sorry. I’ve had it on silent.”

  Clarissa walked past him, taking off her jacket as she did and tossing it on his sofa. “Were you in the studio?”

  That would have been the most reasonable explanation for Geoffrey to forget about his phone for eight hours. He’d done that on more than one occasion. And if Clarissa had given him time to answer or if she hadn’t sounded quite so condescending when she’d said the word “studio,” he would have told her the truth about where he’d been all day.

  “I thought you were planning to shift your focus to opening the estate and Grey museum.” Clarissa sank catlike into the sofa and crossed her very long legs—of which her very short skirt covered very little. She crooked a finger at him, and he wanted to resist her, but there was no denying that Clarissa was a very attractive woman. She should be, considering the time and money she spent keeping her hair auburn, her nails manicured, and whatever else she did to make her eyelashes unnaturally long, her face unnaturally smooth, and her scent irresistible. Geoffrey imagined that the price and the time it took to be as beautiful as Clarissa was more than he could afford.

  He let her pull him toward her until he was forced to sit next to her rather than fall on top of her. She ran her hand through his hair, stopping at the nape of his neck and then kissing him hard. Geoffrey couldn’t help but respond, but it was Alice’s face he pictured as he kissed Clarissa.

  He tried to push Alice out of his head, but she was stuck there. Her smile, the way she brushed her bangs aside with the tip of her ring finger, how her eyes could look so golden brown they were amber, and her heart-shaped lips that he really wished he were kissing. When he had to stop himself from saying her name, he pulled away from Clarissa. It wasn’t fair to her for him to be thinking of someone else while kissing her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked and rubbed her finger along the bottom of her lip.

  He shook his head and stood. “Nothing. Why don’t we go get something to eat?”

  Clarissa studied him, her eyebrows raised, and her mouth puckered. “I didn’t come over here because I was hungry for food.”

  Geoffrey stared back at her. Had he ever loved her? Definitely not, but he had tried. He’d be crazy not to. Clarissa was fun, beautiful, smart . . . and rich. Her inheritance would ensure he’d be able to keep the family estate. But was that a reason to marry her?

  His mother thought so.

  “It’s been six months, Geoffrey. Am I supposed to keep waiting for you now that you’re back?”

  “I didn’t ask you to wait for me, Clarissa.” Geoffrey had been pushed into doing a lot of things he didn’t want to do for his family but marrying someone he didn’t love wasn’t going to be one of them.

  Clarissa’s mouth pulled tighter. “You certainly implied it.”

  Geoffrey sucked in his bottom lip and chewed on it, then held his hand out to Clarissa. “I’m not ready to pick up where we left off, but I would really like to take you to dinner.”

  Clarissa blinked slowly before taking his hand. “Okay, but I’m not waiting for you forever, Geoffrey. I turned down plenty of men while you were gone. If you’re not interested in making this long term, I’m not going to waste my time. I’m ready to be more than a sometimes-girlfriend.”

  “And you deserve more.” Geoffrey let go of Clarissa’s hand long enough to pick up her jacket and help her on with it.

  He took her to one of their favorite restaurants, Maharaja, a popular Indian place that always made room for them no matter how busy they were. Geoffrey had eaten better food at some of the hole-in-the-wall places in Southall, but Clarissa loved the Maharaja, probably as much for the attention they got there as for the food. If he hadn’t felt the need to make up to her for his lack of interest in reigniting their romance, he would have chosen somewhere quieter and more private.

  They were seated right away at the booth the owner always kept empty in case someone like Geoffrey showed up. Clarissa scooted into the half-moon seat first, stopping in the middle so that she and Geoffrey could sit next to each other.

  “The usual, please, Raj,” she said to the waiter without consulting Geoffrey. He wasn’t really in the mood for their usual but decided to let Clarissa have her way. Keeping her both happy and at arm’s length were his only goals for the night, and since they were in direct opposition to each other, he had a hard task ahead of him.

  Before their food arrived, a man with a camera interrupted them. “Mind if I get a picture of you two, Lord B?” Geoffrey recognized him as a photographer from one of the tabloids that liked to keep the public abreast of Geoffrey’s life, loves, and losses, with or without his approval. He opened his mouth to say not tonight, but Clarissa beat him to it with a different answer.

  “Of course.” She leaned into Geoffrey and put her left hand on his chest.

  The camera flashed, and Geoffrey shut his eyes against the bright light.

  “No ring on that finger yet?” the photographer asked Clarissa.

  “Not yet, but I’m expecting one soon.” She took Geoffrey’s jaw in her hand and kissed his cheek until the flash of the camera went off again.

  “Thank you, Lord B. Thank you, Miss Barclay.” The photographer left, ignoring the glare Geoffrey sent him. He hated being photographed almost as much as he hated how paparazzi tried to bait him by calling him Lord B.

  Clarissa patted his leg. “It’s better to let them take the pictures without a fight. Then they won’t hound us all night.” She wiped his cheek where she’d kissed him, then took out a compact and touched up her lipstick.

  “Or we could go somewhere they’re not expecting us.” This wasn’t the first time his dinner had been interrupted by a photographer. Or even the second or third. It happened nearly every time they went to their regular spots.

  “But we like this place. It’s too much of an inconvenience to find somewhere new to eat. They would find us there anyway.” Clarissa snapped her compact shut and stuck it back in her purse as their food arrived. “Now, are you going to be in the studio all day tomorrow again, or will I finally get you to myself?”

  Geoffrey waited to answer until after the waiter had finished setting all their dishes on the table and walked away. “I’ll need to spend some time in the studio, and I’ve got a number of things to do before the collection can be curated. In fact, I’m meeting tomorrow with the person I’ve hired to go over some details.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d hired someone already.” Clarissa dished rice and chicken tikka masala onto his plate and then her own. “That was fast. You’ve only been home two days.”

  “When you know, you know.” Saying the words aloud made him wonder if they had a deeper meaning. If he believed in love at first sight, they certainly did. Not that he was in love with Alice. He just couldn’t get her out of his head. That didn’t mean he was in love.

  Did it?

  “And what’s this person’s name?” Clarissa asked, not even pretending to be more than mildly interested.

  “Al
ice Donnelly.” Geoffrey took a bite of his food to feign his own disinterest in the name and the woman who hadn’t left his mind since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

  “Is she Irish? Scottish?”

  “American.”

  “Really?” Now Clarissa’s interest was real. “Is she young?”

  “About our age, I’d guess. I didn’t ask.” He took a drink of his wine to keep from looking at her.

  “Well, I hope she’s one of these stodgy Americans I picture museum curators as. Someone who spends her life looking at paintings can’t be all that interesting.” Clarissa giggled, and Geoffrey smiled thinking of Alice in her big, chunky glasses that should have made her as unattractive as possible—if he had to guess, he’d say that’s why she wore them—but instead they made her eyes look even bigger and more beautiful.

  “Oh, dear, she is beautiful, isn’t she?” Clarissa picked up her wine glass and eyed Geoffrey over the rim as she took a drink.

  “She’s not ugly, if that’s what you were hoping for. But no one can compare to your beauty, darling.” He held his glass to her to toast, but she set hers down.

  “Is that why you hired her? Because you’re attracted to her?”

  Geoffrey set down his glass. “I hired her because she was the most qualified candidate,” he said sternly, as much to remind himself as to tell Clarissa. “You’re not the only one who’s had people interested. There were plenty of beautiful women in LA, but I stayed faithful to you.” He placed his hand over the one she had in her lap. “If there ever comes a time when I’d rather be with someone besides you, I will tell you. I won’t cheat on you.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Yes.”

  She pulled her hand from his and reached across the table for a piece of naan, tearing it in two. “It doesn’t. I’d rather you keep from putting yourself in situations where you might fall for someone else instead of assuring me you’ll let me know before running off with another woman.”

  “Does that mean you won’t be going clubbing with your girlfriends anymore? It seems only fair that neither of us go anyplace we might chance falling in love with someone else.” Geoffrey knew Clarissa had had plenty of flirtations, if not more, during their years-long relationship. The fact he didn’t care more than he did was probably the clearest indication he would never love her as deeply as he would like to love the woman he married.

  But maybe that kind of love didn’t really exist. He hadn’t seen it in his own family. Maybe his mother was right and true love was a fairy tale.

  Clarissa straightened in her seat, rolling her shoulders back. “Once I have a ring on my finger, I’ll quit clubbing. Until then, I’m going to have fun.” A smile crept across her face, and she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “But I promise not to have too much fun.”

  She tipped her face toward his and closed her eyes. He knew she wanted to be kissed, and he wanted to want to kiss her. He’d always enjoyed it in the past, even if he wasn’t completely in love with her. But now every time he closed his eyes, he saw Alice, and all he wanted to do was kiss her and no one else, not even Clarissa.

  But he gave Clarissa what she wanted, kissing her long and hard.

  Because kissing Alice was out of the question.

  Putting aside the fact that he was her boss and getting involved with her could possibly cause all kinds of scandal and financial trouble if things didn’t go well, he was also practically engaged to Clarissa. What little Alice had told him about her background was enough for him to know his mother would never approve of her. She might love her as an employee of the family, but not as an in-law. His mother was very particular about people not marrying below their station. Which meant, Geoffrey needed to marry someone with money or a title, but preferably both.

  The irony was, his mother had married a man with money and a title, and their marriage had been terrible. Geoffrey would have the title once his father passed, but he’d also have all the debt his father had accrued through his gambling and drug use. His family had some of the same problems that Alice’s family had, so how were the Grey-Chatsworths any better than the Donnellys? The only difference between them was a meaningless title and which side of the ocean they lived on.

  Unfortunately, that was enough, even if it was the only reason for him not to fall in love with her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Alice woke the next day to a text from her boss. Well, ex-boss, or soon-to-be, anyway. She’d given notice but was contractually obligated to work for another two weeks.

  Have you found anything? Need something besides G.

  She glared at her phone for Geoffrey’s sake. Her boss had liked G’s work before the bad reviews of his show, and he was stupid for letting other opinions change his own. That was the reason she hated working at the Fairfax Gallery. A curator had to have confidence in their own taste and choices. The problem with G’s show hadn’t been the art; it had been the curator’s hesitation in really showing it. They’d surrounded his pieces with boring paintings and photographs that made G’s work look just as uninteresting.

  Haven’t seen anything better than G. Still think you should take a chance on it. The odds of her contrarian boss actually taking her advice were about the same as her ever moving back to Bakersfield, but she had to try. She’d love to see Geoffrey regain some of his confidence that had obviously taken a hit after his reviews. He’d said more than once that he’d given up art.

  Fine. If you’ll stay and curate it.

  Alice nearly dropped the phone as she read the words. It was the first compliment her boss had ever given her. Sure, it was a backhanded compliment, but basically asking her to stay was his way of saying he liked her work.

  Obviously, she’d have to say no. She would be working side-by-side with the actual Geoffrey in a few weeks, and now that she knew he was G, she hoped she could find a way to change his mind about including his work in the museum.

  Can’t do it but thank you for asking.

  Then find something else. Your trip there is on Fairfax’s dime and you’ve got two weeks left with us.

  Alice pursed her lips, considering how to answer the text. She had to play nice in order to leave with her reputation intact, and even then, she worried her boss wouldn’t hold back complaining about her once she was gone. If his own reputation of being difficult weren’t well-known, she would have been more worried than she was, but she did still have to finish out the terms of her contract.

  She decided to answer with a thumbs-up after which she set her phone on the table and lay back down. After the day she’d spent with Geoffrey yesterday, what she really wanted to do was curl back under the covers and think about every word that had passed between them. Every touch. Every look. Every smile he’d given her. She felt like she was living in a dream. A dream she knew she’d have to wake up from, but she wanted to stay in it for as long as possible. Reality would intrude soon enough, so why not enjoy her fantasy world while she could?

  The answer lay in the text she’d just read. She had to research possible artists to exhibit at the Fairfax, and that was going to take some doing. So she threw back the bedcovers and forced herself toward the shower. At least she had another day with Geoffrey to look forward to. A last day where they could pretend he wasn’t going to be her boss and that flirting with each other the way they had been was totally okay.

  After showering and getting dressed, Alice saw she’d missed a call from her mom. Alice wanted to talk to her and tell her the good news about the job—had wanted to call her as soon as she’d found out. But it was going to be a hard conversation. Her mom would be happy for her, but they both knew it meant Alice wouldn’t be around to help out with Billy who was developmentally delayed and had serious health issues.

  Taking a deep breath, Alice got comfortable on the sofa, then put on a smile and pressed FaceTime. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

  “I’m great! How did the interview go?�
��

  “Good. Move the phone so I can see more than just your forehead.”

  After some angling that included a shot of the stained ceiling and the worn linoleum, her mom finally got her face in the frame. “That better?”

  “Little more to the left.” More fumbling followed. “Your left . . . perfect! Don’t move!”

  “Sorry about that. Now tell me about the interview.” Her mother’s smile couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes or the worry-filled, sleep-deprived nights that had put them there. Alice felt a twinge of guilt for taking the job, even though her mother would have never forgiven her if she hadn’t.

  “I got it, Mom.”

  “You did!” The phone fell into her mother’s lap and all Alice could see were her clapping hands. “That’s wonderful!” Her face came into focus again, and the look of pride and joy on it almost wiped away Alice’s feelings of guilt.

  “Are you sure? I won’t take it if you need me to stay.” A lump formed in Alice’s throat.

  Her mom rolled her eyes. “What are you going to do? Come back to Bakersfield and work at the AM/PM with me? I can take care of Billy. You follow your dreams. How soon do you start?”

  “Three weeks. Two and a half by the time I get home.”

  Her mother’s smile faltered, and a long pause followed. “That’s pretty quick.”

  Alice nodded then shut her eyes and swallowed until she thought she could talk again. “My boss is really cute,” she said finally in her brightest voice. “Not that I can date him or anything, but I think he’s going to be really great to work with.”

  “Well, give me the lowdown, girl!”

  They talked for the next thirty minutes about Geoffrey, the Grey collection, the discoveries she’d made about the paintings, everything except that Geoffrey was G. That wasn’t Alice’s story to tell until she’d heard it from him.

  “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. I always dreamed of being an artist and having my paintings hang in a famous museum.” The wistfulness in her voice reminded Alice of everything her mom had given up.