Page 222 of Double or Nothing

Wednesday evening and Alice is sitting beside Bryce, rewriting the same bloody paragraph for the sixth time over. Her luscious blonde hair is twisted on top of her head in a half arsed bun, and she’s wearing one of my shirts over baggy grey trousers. She wears more of my shirts than I do now. Bryce is still dressed for Parker Capital, although his tie hangs loose and his jacket is draped over a stool. Smart, but casual. But he has green patterned socks on, clearly obvious now he’s kicked off his brogues. Garish and nerdy.

So him, they make me smile.

There’s no doubt about it, these two look as though they belong here. Permanent fixtures, even though the days until doom are whizzing by.

My phone vibrates with a new message from Camilla as I top up my wine. Winner, since I’ve been waiting for it since four p.m.

Excellent. The Gilded Table is invited to a private preview before the auction. It’s clearly becoming respectable.

“Jack.”

I close the message and look up.

Alice is watching me from across the island.

“What?”

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve just said.”

“Of course I have,” I lie.

“What did I say?”

“Whatever you said, I disagreed with it.”

Bryce sighs and rolls his eyes at me.

Alice lifts the latest printed statement, covered with rainbow coloured gel pen. “I asked whether I should keep the paragraph about pastels to bolds.”

“Definitely not. No.”

“You haven’t read this version.”

“I read the previous five.”

“This one is different,” she says.

“How?”

“I changed the ending.”

Fuck sake. I’d pull my hair out at the monotony of her overthinking, if it wasn’t for the sweet little glow of happiness in her eyes.

“How many times do you want me to say no?” I ask her.

She glares at me, that happiness of hers nosediving into sleep deprived frustration.

Bryce takes the page from her before she turns it into a projectile and lobs it straight at my forehead.

“Camilla asked you not to over explain, remember?” he says to her.

“Thank you for the backup,” I tell him.

“That doesn’t mean I agree with cutting the whole paragraph,” Alice says.

“Then you do you, boo. Stop asking me questions then getting pissed when I say no. That’s the bloody Parker in you, Soul Girl. The annoying part. Princess P.”

I get a hint of a smile at that, despite the middle finger.