“No occasion.” She hands him his drink and takes a seat on the white sectional. “But I do want to talk to you about something.” She pats the cushion next to her.
“Oh?” Nick sits beside her.
This is it.
“Poorva Miller called me today. She and Ryan are spending Christmas at Interlaken,” Alice says, referring to Nick’s best friend from NYU and his wife of eight years. “They’ve invited us. Ryan is starting a new company. Poorva mentioned that he’d love to talk to you about coming in as an investor.”
“With what money?” Nick’s voice is thin, defensive. His usual tone when discussing finances. He leans back and takes a sip of his drink.
Alice had anticipated this reaction. She is prepared.
“Well, it might not be very much. Poorva didn’t get into specifics. I was thinking this might be an opportunity for me, too. To get back in the job market. And with the headquarters being in Europe, I won’t have to worry about, you know, the rumors following me.”
Nick’s face softens. It always does when she brings up her failed career. At twenty-nine, Alice holds a BA from Yale and has two years’ experience working the grueling hours of the private equity sector. She should also have an MBA from Wharton, but she’d dropped out after the administration failed to take her account of what happened with Professor Keyes seriously—she’d been two months shy of graduation. Alice should be working at a bank right now or a multinational, preferably LVMH or Souliers. But her life was derailed because of her gender. It’s more complicated than that, but it also isn’t. If she were a man, none of it would’ve happened. If she were a man, she wouldn’t be stuck in Alma.
“Maybe you could talk to Ryan?” Alice continues, resting a hand on Nick’s knee. “I can book the tickets—”
Nick swivels to the left, setting his highball on the glass side table. He cups her hand with his. “What about Allegra?”
Alice blinks. “What about her?”
“Traveling with a two-year-old isn’t exactly easy.”
“I’m sure we’ll manage. But if you prefer, she can stay here. With Malaika and your mom. Or Malaika could come with us, she’s from Switzerland, after all.”
“That’s not Malaika’s job.” He lets go of her hand.
“That is literally her job.”
“You’re overly reliant on her, Alice,” Nick says. His tone is not unkind, which makes it all the more patronizing.
Alice feels her mouth tighten. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. Usually, Alice shuts it down with a simple, yet effective sentiment: Nick is welcome to quit his job and spend his days caring for Allegra. Alice will not be shamed for needing help, for welcoming it. But today, Alice is willing to ignore his unsolicited opinion.
“This could be good for us,” Alice continues. “And Cassie would approve. She’s always encouraging us to try new things as a couple.”
“Don’t bring our celebrity therapist into this.” Nick says celebrity like it’s a bad word. A hypocritical stance: Nick had been thrilled when Alice had snagged an appointment with Cassie Meyers.
Cassie is considered the very best couples counselor in the East Coast. When they decided to go to counseling, Nick had wanted to find a local therapist; Alice had flat out refused—there was no way she was agreeing to see a shrink who was also an Almanac. The whole point of going to therapy was to get Nick to see that he’d been brainwashed by this town. They’d seen two counselors in the city before having their first video session with Cassie, who is based in Boston. Despite the distance, both Nick and Alice had felt a personal connection to her.
“And don’t pretend like this is about me,” Nick continues. “This is about you hating this town and hating my mother.”
Alice takes a deep breath. This has escalated quickly. She briefly considers denying his accusation but decides against it. It would be pointless. Alice has never kept her opinions about Alma—or Tish—to herself. Instead, she says, “This was supposed to be temporary. Us, living here.”
Three years ago, when Alice and Nick had been dating for six months, two things happened: Alice found out she was pregnant, and Nick ran out of money. They put their heads together and realized that the best solution would be to move back to Alma.
“It’ll be temporary,” Nick had assured her. “Just until the babies are born. My mom has been on my case to move back and start a family. My brother will get me a job at Alma Boots.”
“What about your shares in the company?” Alice hadn’t wanted to go back, not after the incident with Professor Keyes.
“They’re not exactly mine to sell,” Nick had explained. “They belong to a trust.”
The trust, Alice learned, is Tish’s way of controlling her children. Nick owns voting rights and stock that are tied up by a series of covenants designed to keep him from selling his shares unless either his dad or his brother agree. Bobby, as it turns out, is too much of a momma’s boy to go against Tish’s wishes and green-light a sale. And Charles never disagrees with his wife, let alone defies her.
Alice had asked Nick if they could at least live in New York City. Alma seemed so… small. And the city was close enough—his family would be able to visit them often. But Tish wouldn’t hear of it. If Nick wanted a job, they had to live in Alma. The only thing worse than having a meddling mother-in-law is having a mother-in-law who controls your finances.
Now, Nick is looking at her as though she is a spoiled child. “It’s been three years.”
“Exactly,” Alice says. “Three very long, very torturous years.”
“You could try to get along with my mother.”
“Really, Nick?” Alice crosses her arms. “Let’s not pretend that’s an option.”
“Look, we need to be patient. I’ve barely made my mark in the company. We knew it would take longer for me to be able to convince my
