Page 20 of The Alpha Escort Agency
Dear Alice,
I'd be very happy to offer my advice. I've enclosed another recipe for you to try. Read it through first, prepare all the vegetables and herbs in advance, and take your time. There's no rush. Enjoy the process of cooking. The best things should be savored.
Yours
Rory
The last sentence is completely innocent and yet it has her stomach spinning even more wildly and she wonders if that too was deliberate.
Friday night she swings by the grocery store on her way home and picks up the ingredients. When she gets home, she changes into something comfortable, streams a chilled playlist, pours herself a large glass of red wine and does as he says, taking her time to read and prepare the recipe. This time the Moroccan tagine comes out pretty near to perfection. She organises the dish attractively on her plate and snaps a picture on her phone, playing with the filters until it looks good.
The next day she prints out the photo and posts it to him along with another note.
Dear Rory,
I did it! And it was yummy — thank you. Still not nearly as good as your cooking, but I actually enjoyed doing it. Please send more!
Alice
Mid-week, there's a box waiting for her on her doorstep and she curses the delivery driver for leaving it where anyone could see and pinch it. She has no idea what this package is. She does have a habit of ordering random things from the internet, especially late at night when she's bored, and then promptly forgetting she's done it, but she's pretty sure there's nothing she's ordered recently — she's been too busy and exhausted for bedtime internet surfing.
Suspiciously she carries the box inside, hearing several objects roll around inside as she does. When she tears back the brown sticky tape and lifts the lids, there's more packaging inside and a typed note on top.
You've been sent a gift!
Message from your gift sender:
Dear Alice
Here are the ingredients and recipe details for a dish I think you will enjoy.
Rory
Pulling out the wrapping paper and wadding, she finds underneath a packet of spaghetti, tomatoes, pot of herbs, and within an ice pack some beef mince.
Spaghetti bolognese. It was her dad's signature dish. Something he'd make with much fanfare once a week for the family. She hasn't eaten the dish for a long time, but maybe it's time she did. In fact, she's rather looking forward to it and sending Rory another photo of her efforts. But it will have to wait until the weekend, she's too tired tonight. She unpacks the contents into the fridge and slopes off to bed.
The note she writes after the dish is complete and sitting comfortably in her stomach reads:
Thank you Rory. The spaghetti bolognese was delicious, so so good. You are spoiling me and I feel like I must return the favour.
The day after the next, there's another letter waiting on the mat. No stamp or postmark. It was hand delivered. Her heart skips in her chest as she hurries to open it.
Dear Alice
There is no need to return the favour. I like to think of you well fed. But I would like to see you again. Have you ever been to Borough Market? The food is incredible. I'd like to show you around. Perhaps this Saturday evening? Meet outside London Bridge station at 7.30pm.
Rory
Alice Turner does not want to get herself tangled up with an Alpha, especially in the middle of pitching for her dream client, especially when she's this close to a promotion, especially when the Alpha is a man she just paid to fuck her. This is not how the plan is meant to go. This is about as far away from the plan as it's possible to be!
She posts her response immediately.
I'll be there!
Chapter 8
There's a chill to the autumn air, a bite to the wind that skims off the river and sails down the wide road, jammed with traffic. It's already dark but above him the Shard shines an icy blue and the lamp lights glow a warm orange. Despite the lack of trees, autumn leaves scatter the pavements, creating piles of mush at the edges of the road.
