Page 41 of The Thorne at My Side
“Mr. Thorne,” she says clearly.
“Austin, Elizabeth, call me Austin.”
“Yes sir, I wanted to remind you of your appointment with Allegra Sinclair this evening. I’ve scheduled you a table at The Ned for 8:00.”
I slide my glasses back on and notice that it is 7:30 already. “Thank you Elizabeth, you should havegone home hours ago.”
“My hours are your hours, sir.” She says with a little glance over the top of her glasses at me.
She’s been invaluable to me over the last several years. Elizabeth has seen me through a few failed relationships, helped our team clean up my social media presence and get me untagged from posts that past girlfriends have tried to burn me with, in fact, she’s my best line of defense. I screen my calls through her and once she knows I don’t want to talk to someone she shuts it down.
Except when it comes to Allegra Sinclair.
Even if I told Elizabeth that I didn’t want to talk to Allegra anymore she’d have to keep answering the calls; Al is on Dad’s “approved list”.
The Thornes and The Sinclairs have a long-standing family friendship. The kind that meant we “summered” together and would spend major holidays together over catered meals after getting professional family photos taken.
Allegra is a year younger than me and we’ve had an on-again, off-again thing going since high school. On when we’re in the same room. Off as soon as we’re not.
I’ve never scheduled a date with her, I’ve never taken her out to dinner. I’ve never even spent the night. A couple of years ago she left D.C. and moved up to New York to start a clothing line.
When she left she asked me if I’d come and visit her and I laughed. Then when I saw the look on her face I realized that she was serious and I tried to back track. I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, but I thought we were on the same this-is-just-sex page.
The few times we’ve seen each other since her move, we’ve enjoyed the on-again aspects of our “friendship” but she has also tried to be more public about it. She’ll ask to meet for drinks or dinner. Or she’ll be waiting for me in the lobby of the office.
The last time she was in town, five months ago, she clung to my arm as we left dinner and when our picture was taken as she moved to get into the car she stopped, turned, and spelled her name for them. I asked her why she did that and she slid her hand up my thigh and said, “they should know who I am, don’t you think?”
It was at that moment I realized she expected me to propose to her. I spent the night considering it. Playing out a life with Allegra Sinclair as my wife. Even when I went back to her hotel room and we slid into bed together I pictured doing that with her every night for the rest of my life. Sex with her that night felt like a death march. Like I was going through the motions. Like I was obligated to fuck her.
The next morning I signed up for SMS Connect.
And after that exchange with TalkShopGirl last night I have no regrets about it at all.
Except maybe that I pictured Maggie.
And, I hope for etiquette’s sake, I can keep her particular shade of blue eyes from my mind when I meet Allegra tonight.
???
"The designing is going really well. I've got a runway show set up for London which is exciting and it's all hands on deck to get that going now."
"That's great Al."
She curls her shoulders in, which does make her chest smoosh together as she slowly stirs her martini. Allegra is beautiful, all American, charming. All her charm is pointed at me but it’s ineffective. I think it’s because she isn’t Maggie Collins. I bite back a laugh because I cannot imagineMaggie ever acting this way. Blatantly hitting on me. No, her personal brand of flirting is to tell me I’m dumb.
That’s fine, I’m hot for teacher.
"So, are you taking me back to your place?" She asks as she drags a manicured red nail across the back of my hand.
"Ah, no, Elle is there."
"Why is your half-sister living with you?" Allegra scrunches up her nose in disgust and pulls her hand back.
"Because she's my sister." I reply gruffly and then I signal the waitress for our check. I don't need to be here any longer. And I don’t need to defend my decisions to support family or Elle’s life choices.
Allegra reaches across the table again and skates her long nails up my hand. A shiver starts to rock me. I try to suppress it because I do not want any bodily responses associated with Allegra anymore.
"Maybe you can come back to mine then?"
