Mr. (Not Quite) Perfect

by Jessica Hart

  ‘I’m feeling positive,’ she said airily. ‘This guy could be The One. I could be on my way to meet true love!’

  Max snorted. ‘Well, don’t make a date for Wednesday, that’s all.’

  He had finally heard from Bob Laskovski’s office. Bob and his wife would be in London the following week and the dinner to meet Max and his ‘fiancée’ was arranged for the Wednesday night. Max was nervous about the whole business, Allegra knew. He wasn’t comfortable with deception, but he was desperate for the Shofrar job. Perhaps that was why he was so grouchy at the moment?

  Darcy was welcome to him, Allegra told herself as she flipped open her phone to call a cab. She couldn’t care less that Max was having supper with a lingerie model. She was going out to have a great time and meet a fabulous new guy. And, who knew, maybe she’d find true love at last as well.

  * * *

  Flick still lived in the four-storey Georgian house in a much sought after part of Islington where Allegra had grown up but it never felt like going home. The house was immaculately decorated and most visitors gasped in envy when they stepped inside, but Allegra much preferred the Warriners’ house with its scuffed skirting boards and faded chair covers.

  Flick’s dinner parties were famous, less for the food, which was always catered, than for the company. Politicians, media stars, business leaders, diplomats, writers, artists, musicians, journalists...anyone who was anyone in London jostled for a coveted invitation to sit at Flick’s dining table. No celebrities, pop stars or soap opera actors need apply, though. Flick insisted on a certain intellectual rigour.

  Thus Allegra found herself sitting between Dan, a fast-track civil servant, obviously destined for greatness, while William, on her right, was a political aide. They both worked in government circles and were both high-flyers, full of gossip and opinion.

  Toying with her marinated scallops, Allegra felt boring and uninformed in comparison. She couldn’t think of a single clever or witty thing to say.

  Not that it mattered much. The conversation around the table was fast and furious as usual, but no one was interested in her opinion anyway, and it was enough for Allegra to keep a smile fixed to her face.

  Beside her, Dan had launched into a scurrilous story about a politician everybody else seemed to know but who Allegra had never heard of. She laughed when everybody else laughed, but she was wondering how Max was getting on with Darcy. Would he sleep with her? Allegra realised that she had stopped smiling and hurriedly put her smile back in place.

  Why did she care? Max would be leaving soon anyway, and it wasn’t as if he was interested in her. True, there had been that moment when their eyes had met earlier, when she was putting on her shoes and had glanced up to find him watching her and something had leapt in the air between them.

  It was just because they were spending so much time together for the article, Allegra told herself. It wasn’t that she would really rather be sharing pizza with Max in front of the television than sitting here at this glamorous, glittering party. Of course she wouldn’t.

  Oh, God, she had missed Dan’s punchline. At the other end of the table, she caught Flick’s eye and the tiny admonishing frown and sat up straighter.

  Beside her, William was filling her glass, teasing her out of her abstraction. His eyes were warm, and she was picking up definite vibes. Allegra gazed at him, determined to find him attractive. She’d already established that he’d split up with his long-term girlfriend a year ago. A mutual thing, he’d said. They were still friends.

  So no obvious emotional baggage. Unlike Max, who was still sore about Emma.

  William was very good-looking. Charming. Assured. Also unlike Max.

  He would be staying in London. Unlike Max.

  He seemed to be finding her attractive. Unlike Max.

  He was perfect boyfriend material. Unlike Max.

  If William asked her out, she would say yes.

  Definitely. She might even fall in love with him.

  SIX

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to talk to you yet, Allegra,’ Flick said, coming back into the dining room, having said goodbye to the last of her guests, a cabinet minister who was tipped for a promotion in the next reshuffle. She frowned at Allegra, who was helping the caterers to clear the table. ‘The caterers are paid to tidy up. Leave that and let’s have a chat.’

  No one looking at them together would guess that they were mother and daughter. Where Allegra was tall and dark and a little quirky-looking, Flick was petite and blonde with perfect features, steely blue eyes and a ferocious intelligence. Allegra was super-proud of her famous mother, but sometimes she did wonder what it would be like to have a mother who would rush out to hug you when you arrived, like Libby and Max’s mother did, or fuss over you if you were unhappy.

  A chat with Flick didn’t mean sitting over cocoa in the kitchen. It meant being interrogated in the study about your career and achievements. Which in Allegra’s case were not very many.

  Sure enough, Flick led the way to her book-lined study and sat behind her desk, gesturing Allegra to a chair as if for an interview.

  ‘Another successful evening, I think,’ she said complacently.

  ‘The food was lovely,’ Allegra said dutifully, stealing a surreptitious glance at her watch. One in the morning... Was Max still with Darcy? He’d seemed surprisingly reluctant to go, but surely, once faced with Darcy’s glowing beauty, he wouldn’t be able to resist?

  ‘You seem very abstracted, Allegra.’ Flick had her razor-sharp interviewing voice on. ‘I noticed it during dinner too. Not very good manners. Would you rather go?’

  ‘No, no, of course not...’ Nobody could make her stammer like her mother and, because she knew it irritated Flick, Allegra pulled herself together. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just a bit preoccupied with an assignment I’ve got for Glitz.’

  Flick sat back in her chair and raised her brows. ‘I hardly think an article on the latest fashion trend compares to the kind of issues that everyone else here has to deal with every day.’ She unbent a little. ‘But I read your little piece on shoes last week. It was very entertaining. The ending was a little weak but, otherwise, your writing has improved considerably. What’s the latest assignment?’

  Allegra started to explain about the idea behind the article, but it sounded stupid when her mother was listening with her impeccably groomed head on one side. ‘I’m hoping that if I can make a success of it, Stella will give me more opportunities to write something different.’ She stumbled to a halt at last.

  Flick nodded her approval. She liked it when Allegra thought strategically. ‘I suppose it’s experience of a sort, but you’d be so much better off at a serious magazine. You remember Louise’s son, Joe? He’s at The Economist now.’

  Allegra set her teeth. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to write about quantitative easing yet, Flick. The Economist would be a bit of a leap from Glitz.’

  ‘Not for someone who’s got what it takes—but you’ve never been ambitious,’ said Flick regretfully. ‘But you do look very nice tonight,’ she conceded. ‘Those dark florals are good for you. The earrings aren’t quite right, but otherwise, yes, very nice. William seemed rather taken,’ she added. ‘Are you going to see him again?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ The truth was that when William had asked her out, Allegra had opened her mouth to say yes and then somehow heard herself say that she was rather busy at the moment.

  ‘He’s got a great future ahead of him. I’d like to see you spend more time with people like that instead of these silly little assignments for that magazine. I mean, who are you working with at the moment?’

  ‘Max.’ Funny how his name felt awkward in her mouth now. ‘You remember, Libby’s brother,’ she said when Flick looked blank.

  ‘Oh, yes...rather dull.’

  ‘He isn’t dull!’ Al
legra flushed angrily.

  ‘I don’t remember him striking me as very interesting,’ said Flick, dismissive as only she could be.

  Allegra had a clear memory of thinking much the same thing once. So why was she wishing that she could have spent the evening with him instead of flirting with William, who was everything Max would never be?

  ‘I didn’t realise he was a particular friend of yours.’ Her mother’s eyes had narrowed suspiciously at the colour burning in Allegra’s cheeks.

  ‘He wasn’t. I mean, he isn’t. He’s just living in the house for a couple of months while Libby’s in Paris.’

  ‘I hope you’re not getting involved with him?’

  ‘Anyone would think he was some kind of troublemaker,’ Allegra grumbled. ‘He’s a civil engineer. It doesn’t get more respectable than that.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s very good at what he does,’ said Flick gently. ‘But he’s not exactly a mover and shaker, is he? I’ve always worried about the way you seem happy to settle for the mediocre, rather than fulfilling your potential.’ She shook her head. ‘I blame myself for letting you spend so much time with that family—what are they called? Warren?’

  ‘Warriner,’ said Allegra, ‘and they’re wonderful.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure they’re very kind but I’ve brought you up to aim for the exceptional.’

  ‘They are exceptional!’ Normally the thinning of Flick’s lips would have been a warning to Allegra, but she was too angry to stop there. ‘They’re exceptionally generous and exceptionally fun. Max’s mother might not win any style awards, but she’s lovely, and his dad is one of the nicest, most decent, most honourable men I’ve ever met,’ she swept on. ‘I only wish I’d had a father like him!’

  There was a moment of appalled silence, while her last words rang around the room. Flick had whitened. Allegra’s lack of a father was a taboo subject and Allegra knew it.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, letting out a long breath. ‘But why won’t you tell me about my father?’

  ‘I don’t wish to discuss it,’ said Flick tightly. ‘In your case, father is a biological term and nothing more. I’m sorry if I haven’t been enough of a parent for you.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ Allegra tried to break in wretchedly, but Flick moved smoothly on.

  ‘I can only assure you that all I’ve ever wanted is the best for you. You have so much potential if only you would realise it. I really think it would be a mistake for you to tie yourself down to somebody ordinary who’ll just drag you down to his level.’

  She should have known better than to try and press Flick about her father. ‘You don’t need to worry,’ said Allegra dully. ‘There’s no question of anything between Max and me and, even if there were, he’s going abroad to work soon.’

  ‘Just as well,’ said Flick.

  It was just as well, Allegra told herself in the taxi home. Flick had suggested that she stay the night in her old room, but she wanted to go back to the flat. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she needed to know if Max had stayed with Darcy or not and it was like a sword being drawn out of her entrails when she opened the door and saw Max stretched out on the sofa.

  ‘You’re back early.’ Funny, her voice sounded light and normal when her heart was behaving so oddly, racing and lurching, bouncing off her chest wall like a drunk.

  ‘It’s half past one. It’s not that early.’

  ‘I suppose not.’ Allegra went to sit in the armchair. She picked at the piping. ‘So, how was your evening?’

  ‘Fine. Yours?’

  ‘Oh, you know. Lots of clever, glamorous guests. Witty conversation. Delicious food. The usual.’

  ‘Your average social nightmare.’

  Allegra laughed and toed off her shoes so that she could curl her feet up beneath her. She was feeling better already.

  ‘So, did you find your true love over the canapés?’ Max asked.

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ she said. ‘I sat between two handsome, ambitious single men specially picked out for me by my mother.’

  Max’s gaze flickered to her face and then away. ‘So who’s the lucky guy?’

  ‘Neither.’ Reaching up, she pulled the clips from her hair and shook it loose, oblivious to the way Max’s eyes darkened. ‘I’ve decided I need a relationship detox. I might abstain from all men for a while.’

  ‘That would be a shame.’

  ‘I’m sick of feeling that they only ask me out because I’m Flick Fielding’s daughter.’ It was the first time Allegra had said it out loud and she winced as she heard the resentment reverberating around the room.

  ‘That’s not why they ask you out,’ said Max roughly.

  ‘Isn’t it? Why else would they? I’m not clever the way they are. I can’t contribute to the conversation. I’ve got nothing to offer.’

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ said Max. ‘Come on, Legs, you must know you are,’ he said when she gaped at him. ‘You’re gorgeous. Any man would be glad to be seen with you. I don’t know who you sat next to tonight, but if you think he was more interested in Flick’s influence than in the way you looked, you’re not thinking straight!’

  He would have been the one not thinking straight if he’d been sitting next to Allegra while she was wearing that dress. He would have been mesmerised by her arms, bare and slender, by those expressive hands, by the glow of her skin and the way the straight shiny hair threatened to slip out of its clips. He would have spent his whole time imagining how it would look falling to her shoulders, the way it was now.

  He wouldn’t have been able to eat, Max knew. His mouth would have been too dry and he’d have been too busy watching the sweep of her lashes, the brightness of her eyes, the tempting hollow of her cleavage, the curve of her breasts... And thinking about her bare knees under the table, the long, sexy legs in those ridiculous shoes.

  His head felt light and he realised it was because he’d stopped breathing. Max sucked in a steadying breath. Where had all that come from?

  ‘I didn’t know you thought I was beautiful,’ said Allegra, sounding thrown.

  ‘I thought so many other people would tell you there was no need for me to do the same. You’re still deeply irritating, mind,’ he said in an effort to drag the conversation back onto safe ground, ‘but of course you’re beautiful. I thought you knew.’

  ‘No.’ Allegra bent her head, pushing back the hair that slithered forward, but he still couldn’t see her face properly.

  It was probably just as well. Max was uneasily aware that something tenuous had insinuated itself into the air, like a memory hovering just out of reach, or a forgotten word trembling on the tip of a tongue. Something that seemed to be drawing the air tighter, squeezing out the oxygen so that his chest felt tight and his breathing oddly sticky.

  Could Allegra feel it?

  Apparently not. Even as he struggled to heave in another breath, she was lifting her head and focusing on him with those eyes that seemed to get more beautiful every time he looked into them.

  ‘Tell me how you got on with Darcy,’ she said, sounding so completely normal that Max squirmed inwardly with humiliation. She wasn’t finding it hard to breathe. She wasn’t aware of the tension in the air, or snarled in a knot of inconvenient and inappropriate lust.

  ‘I wondered if you’d end up staying the night,’ she went on, but not as if she cared one way or the other.

  So he obviously couldn’t admit that she was the reason he wasn’t tucked up next to the world’s favourite lingerie model right now.

  Because Darcy had made it very clear that she was up for a lot more than just dinner, but it hadn’t felt right, not when he’d spent most of the evening wondering what Allegra was doing and who her bloody mother had lined up to sit next to her. Flick might be keen on big brains, but Max was prepared to bet t
hat they were men too, and that they wouldn’t be above a flirtatious touch every now and then: Allegra’s shoulder, her hand, her knee...

  It was only when Darcy had looked at him strangely that he’d realised he was grinding his teeth.

  What was wrong with him? Max had wanted to tear out his hair. There he was, sitting across the table from Darcy King, with a clear invitation to get his hands on that luscious body. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, a fantasy come true for a million men like him, and all he could think about was his sister’s scrawny friend! He had to be sickening for something. Or certifiable.

  Or both.

  He liked Darcy, he really did, but it had been awkward. He told Allegra what he’d told Darcy, which was the best excuse he could come up with at the time.

  ‘I don’t really want to get involved with Darcy,’ he said. ‘She’s nice but...well, I don’t see her fitting into my life, do you? I can’t imagine someone like Darcy out in Shofrar, and I don’t feel like being just a novelty plaything for her. I know most other men would give their eye teeth to be toyed with by her, but I’m not sure it would be worth it.’

  It wasn’t really an excuse. It was true. Not that Allegra seemed to be convinced.

  She looked at him strangely. ‘I doubt that Darcy’s thinking about anything serious,’ she said. ‘It would only be a bit of fun. Where does Shofrar come into it?’

  ‘That’s where my life is going to be,’ said Max stiffly, even as he winced inwardly at what a pompous jerk he sounded. But the words kept coming out of his mouth without taking the trouble of detouring through his brain. ‘There’s no point in getting involved with someone who can’t hack it away from a city.’

  Meaning what exactly? He wasn’t surprised at the way Allegra’s face clouded with disbelief.

  ‘So, let me get this right. You’re saying that you’re not going to have sex unless you can get married to someone who won’t mind being dragged out to some desert hellhole so that she can play second fiddle to your career?’