madder didn’t seem like a good to-do list item for the day, but she couldn’t help but come up with some answers on her own. Was she a prostitute? The daughter of a business rival? His ex? Or just someone who’d be deemed unsuitable by the Alexander family at large? That probably took up most of the population.
‘Your mother wants you to take her home to Midfield House for Christmas?’
Tyler groaned and nodded. ‘Apparently it’s the only socially acceptable thing to do after you appear in a compromising photo with a woman, and it’s plastered all over the Internet.’
‘Of course.’ Only Felicia Alexander would have a book of etiquette for this situation. Tyler always said that because the Alexanders were only old-ish money, with their first restaurant opened in the early twentieth century, rather than old nineteenth-century industrialist money, his mother always felt she had to be even more proper than proper. ‘So what’re you going to do?’
Dory leant forward, resting her elbows on his desk, and stared across at him. Tyler Alexander under pressure; often when he did his best work, she’d found.
But apparently not today. He sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead. ‘Call my lawyer, I suppose. See if we can cut some sort of deal with the magazine in question before the pictures make it from online to print. Get them to take them down, maybe. Break a leg so I don’t have to go home for Christmas.’
He was joking, of course. Even if he didn’t look like it. But just in case… ‘Don’t say that. It’ll be your own fault if you slip on the pavement on the way to catch a cab to the train station.’
‘Sidewalk,’ Tyler corrected her. Dory sighed. He was determined to make her a real American, one colloquialism at a time.
‘Besides, home is where you’re supposed to be for the holidays. Holidays are for family.’
Tyler’s gaze jerked up to meet hers. ‘You’re not going home,’ he pointed out.
Dory sank backwards with a sigh, thinking of the email she still had to send to Dad. ‘I would if I could. It’s just… not possible.’
‘Because…?’
‘Because you don’t pay me enough,’ she said, smirking at him. It was a familiar argument. Of course, the truth was, even a hefty pay rise would be swallowed up by frivolous expenses like food and heating. Basic living expenses were extreme in New York. She’d thought, coming from London, she’d be used to it. But in London she’d had the ex to share the bills with. Of course, she’d thought she’d be sharing with him in New York, too…
‘What if I could arrange for you to go home for New Year?’ Tyler asked. The gleam in his eye told her there’d be a catch, but the surge of excitement that coursed through her overwhelmed any caution.
‘Really? That would be… God, that would be fantastic.’ It wasn’t Christmas, of course, but it was a damn sight better than nothing. Her parents might even still be speaking to her by the time she got there if she could mollify them with a trip home at the end of the month.
‘I’ll book you a ticket,’ Tyler promised, smiling beatifically. ‘If you spend Christmas with my family.’
Dory froze. ‘Wait. What?’
‘Spend Christmas up at the family estate with me, and I’ll arrange for you to go home for New Year,’ Tyler said. ‘It’s pretty straightforward, Dory.’
No it wasn’t. Because she’d spotted the catch. ‘Spend Christmas with you in what capacity, exactly?’
He must have heard the suspicion in her voice, because he winced. ‘As my fake girlfriend.’
Not just a catch. A ginormous, all-encompassing Catch with a capital C. ‘Not a chance.’
‘You haven’t heard the whole plan. At least hear me out,’ Tyler said, holding up his hands. ‘Besides, weren’t you the one who said that holidays are for family?’
‘I didn’t mean yours!’
‘Better than being stuck here in a strange city, all alone…’
‘I’m not completely sure of that.’ Spending Christmas with the Alexander family seemed infinitely more intimidating. They probably wore tuxes for dinner every single night. Dory had mastered the whole which-cutlery-to-use-first thing when she dated the son of an MP at university, but beyond that? She’d be lost. And they probably wouldn’t let her illegally stream Doctor Who on Christmas Day, either.
‘Come on, Dory.’ He was using his persuasive voice now. Never a good sign. ‘Think about it. You get a luxury, catered Christmas break, followed by an all-expenses-paid trip back home for New Year. And all you have to do is look adoringly at me for a few days.’
‘They’ll never buy it,’ she said. ‘Your mother has spoken to me on the phone. She’ll recognise my voice.’ Not to mention Lucas. She knew she’d recognise his voice again anywhere. She’d be kind of disappointed if he didn’t recognise hers.
‘She’s spoken to you precisely twice,’ Tyler said. ‘I don’t think she pays that much attention to my assistants.’
‘Still. Do you really think they’ll believe that you’re dating…’ She paused. Why wouldn’t they? She was young, attractive, exactly his type and, most importantly, awesome. ‘Do you really think they’ll believe I’d date you?’
Tyler laughed, a deep, belly laugh. At least she’d managed to cheer him up. ‘Bear in mind, they think I’m hiding my girlfriend from them.’
‘Which you are.’
‘So they have to imagine there’d be a reason.’
‘Like… me being British?’ If he seriously wanted her to consider this proposition, he had to admit all the reasons it probably wouldn’t work. Of which, her nationality was the least important. She wasn’t part of his society, part of his world. That was the part no one was going to believe.
‘Like you being my assistant.’
Ah, yes. That. Dory winced. ‘So, we’re going to tell them that?’
Tyler’s gaze slid away from hers. ‘Maybe, maybe not. But if they figure it out… it’s plausible as a story, anyway.’
‘Wouldn’t it be easier just to take your actual girlfriend?’
‘Believe it or not, no.’ Tyler looked suddenly tired. ‘Look, I know it’s probably a disaster waiting to happen. But it’s the best idea I’ve got. Otherwise I’m going to be spending the entire Christmas break with my extended family asking constant questions about my personal life, questions that I really cannot answer, and I’m right back to the “breaking a leg plan” just to get away from them.’
Dory tipped her head back and considered the ceiling for a while. On the one hand, this was clearly a very stupid idea. She’d watched the rom-coms. She knew how this ended – with everyone
