ALICE Ch 126

Glynda Darcy doesn’t like Irina Orlova very much, although it’s difficult for her to put her finger on exactly why. Irina is polite, she does not openly condescend, and while circumstances might frame some of her actions as spiteful, in context they are all at least… theoretically reasonable. She’s a Russian oligarch, naturally—that makes her distasteful, but only to a point. Glynda doesn’t come from money, but she has it now and her livelihood is a sport whose very existence practically begs for the return of the guillotine. How much of her dislike for Irina is based on reality, and how much of it is **** bias? Or is it something else?

Irina has the finest suite in the hotel, which it appears she is sharing with her daughter.

Glynda and Irina stand on the balcony in the humid, yet now pleasantly breezy Miami night, holding drinks. Inside, Sasha is curled up on the sofa in pajamas with Airpods in. Irina still looks fully presentable in her airy little white dress.

They look up as a helicopter passes, its lights reflected in Irina’s flawless nails.

Irina goes everywhere with her daughter. They seem to be close. This touches every insecurity that Glynda has: the perceptions of nepotism because of the driving arrangement, and the fact that despite this arrangement, Glynda can’t remember the last time she had more than a few minutes alone with her youngest child. This job is demanding.

Irina’s standing so close that their arms almost touch. If there’s one blemish in Irina’s elegant façade, it’s her disregard for personal space.

“I quite enjoyed Alice’s new modeling endeavor,” Irina remarks casually, her eyes on her daughter. “I have involvement with a number of fashion and fragrance labels. I think there would be interest. I’d like to speak to her about it.”

“Let’s do that in daylight.”

“My daughter and I have found that Alice does her best negotiating at night,” Irina replies lightly.

Glynda stiffens. She has made certain inferences about Irina’s interest in Alice, but still. To hear it like that is… a little much. And did Irina include her daughter in that statement? Glynda stiffly camouflages her flustered moment of freezing with a sip of her drink. She recovers and turns to Irina, gaze cold.

“Don’t think I’ll let you pressure my driver into anything she doesn’t want,” Glynda warns. If Irina wants to put things out in the open, two can play that game. “I care about your money, but I care about Alice more.”

Irina looks amused. Smug, even.

“No one has to pressure Alice into anything,” Irina assures Glynda, casting a long look down at Glynda’s rather obtrusive cleavage. “I’m surprised that she hasn’t pressured you. So to speak. I’m sure she’d like to.”