Читать книгу British Bachelors: Perfect and Available: Mr - Jessica Hart, Charlotte Phillips, Charlotte Phillips - Страница 11

FIVE

‘Turns?’ Max grumbled as they slunk out. ‘You mean we have to go round and round as well as backwards and forwards?’

‘It’s a lot harder than it looks,’ Allegra agreed, winding her scarf around her throat. ‘I’ve waltzed so often in my fantasies that I thought I’d be quite good at it. I can’t believe I was so crap,’ she said despondently.

‘In your fantasy you don’t dance with me, that’s why,’ said Max, feeling obscurely guilty about spoiling the waltz for her.

‘True.’ She perked up a little as they headed down the street. ‘I’d be much better with my Regency duke.’

‘Your what?’

‘The duke who waltzes me out on the terrace, begs me to become his duchess and ravishes me,’ said Allegra as if it was the most normal thing in the world. ‘I told you about my fantasy.’

‘You didn’t mention any dukes.’

‘I think he probably is a duke,’ she said, having considered the matter. ‘He’s got a dreadful reputation as a rake, of course, but underneath he’s deeply honourable.’

‘He’s not very honourable if he ravishes you right outside a crowded ballroom,’ Max pointed out.

‘You’re such a nitpicker,’ she said without heat.

Max shook his head. ‘I can’t figure you out, Legs. One minute you’re obsessed with fashion or celebrity gossip, the next you’re fantasising about dancing with dead aristocrats.’

And that was before you took into account the sweet and funny Allegra who drew cute cartoon animals, or the one who tried so hard and so unsuccessfully to be cool and high-minded so that she could please her demanding mother. The one who fretted constantly about her weight or the one who sat on the floor and ate pizza with relish.

It was only since moving into the house that Max had come to realise that there was more to Allegra than he had thought. If he’d been asked to describe her before then he would have said sweet, a bit scatty, a bit screwed up by her mother.

And now...now he was learning new things about her every day. Like the way she left the bathroom a tip, the way her face lit up when she smiled. Like the smell of her perfume. The way she tilted her chin.

The way she felt. Max’s mouth dried at the memory of that ridiculous hug Cathy had insisted on. After a couple of false starts, Allegra had fitted into him as if she belonged there, and his senses had reeled alarmingly at the feel of her slenderness pressed against him.

And it wasn’t just his senses that had reacted. Max shifted his shoulders uncomfortably in his jacket, remembering how aroused he had been. Hold her tighter, that fool Cathy had said. What was he supposed to do when a soft, warm woman was melting into him and her perfume filled his head and it was all he could do to stop his hands sliding under that silky top, rucking up that sexy skirt so that he could run them hungrily over her long thighs?

This was all Emma’s fault. If they’d still been together, he wouldn’t have been sex-starved, and he certainly wouldn’t have been thinking about Allegra like some kind of pervert.

She was lucky that treading on her toes was all he had done.

At least it had been easier once they’d started laughing. It was a relief to know that Allegra couldn’t dance for toffee either. When he wasn’t wanting to rip her clothes off, he and Allegra got on much better than he had expected.

She’d been teaching him how to cook so that he could impress Darcy, and kept coming back from Glitz laden with ingredients and advice from the food editor. Max wasn’t learning much, but he enjoyed leaning against the worktop and watching her face as she chopped enthusiastically, throwing weird ingredients together in ridiculously complicated meals. Emma was a great cook, Max remembered loyally. Meat and two veg, exactly what you wanted to eat, perfectly cooked. None of Allegra’s nonsense.

Although there was something oddly endearing about the nonsense all the same. Even if it did taste rubbish.

‘You say you want to be a serious journalist, but I’ve only ever seen you talk seriously about cosmetics or the latest soap,’ he said, still puzzling over her.

A brisk wind was swirling dead leaves along the gutter and Allegra pulled her coat closer around her. ‘People are more than one thing,’ she said loftily. ‘Talking of which, what did you do to Dickie?’

‘I didn’t do anything,’ said Max in surprise.

‘He was so fragile this morning that the entire office had to whisper! Stella’s assistant told the intern who told me that when Stella asked him what was wrong, he said it was all your fault!’

‘I just took him to the pub.’

Allegra had sent him off for another styling session with Dickie the night before. Max had grumbled, but he’d gone along and without Allegra there had been able to come to an understanding with Dickie. Make the whole process as quick and painless as possible, he had suggested, and they could go and have a decent drink.

‘Can you believe it?’ he went on. ‘The guy’s been in London for ten years and he’s never had a decent pint.’

‘You took Dickie to a pub?’ Allegra had stopped dead and was looking at him in horror.

‘You told me to be nice to him,’ Max reminded her.

‘Making him go to a pub and getting him drunk on beer isn’t being nice!’

‘He had a great time. I’m taking him to a rugby game next.’

Allegra opened and closed her mouth, unable to get out a coherent sentence. ‘Dickie...rugby...?’

‘I don’t know why you’re all so terrified of him. He’s a perfectly nice guy once you get past all the affectation.’

‘That’s it. My career is over.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Max, taking her arm and steering her across the road at the lights. ‘Dickie likes me. Although if I’d thought about it, ending your career might have been a good move. I’d never have to waltz again.’

* * *

‘Darcy’s going to be here any minute. Are you almost ready?’

Allegra put her head around the door to the kitchen, where Max was putting the final garnish to the romantic vegetarian meal for two that they had planned together.

At least, she had planned it and Max had reluctantly agreed to cook it. ‘I don’t see why I can’t just give her pasta with a tomato sauce,’ he’d grumbled.

‘Because this is a special occasion. You want Darcy to know that you’ve made a real effort to cook something that she’ll really like.’

Eventually they had settled on a pear, walnut and gorgonzola salad to start, followed by mushroom strudels with a tarragon cream sauce, and then margarita ice cream with chocolate-dipped strawberries. Allegra had been pleased with it, but after several practice runs, she had strudel coming out of her ears and she couldn’t face another chocolate-dipped strawberry, which wasn’t something she ever thought she would say.

‘I’m all set,’ said Max. ‘I just need to change.’

‘I’ll make the living room look nice,’ Allegra volunteered. Max was supposed to be thinking about that as well, but when she had suggested it he had just looked blank.

At least everything was tidy, the way it always was when Max was around. Allegra set out candles and plumped up the cushions before putting on the playlist of romantic music she had compiled specially. Max didn’t have a clue about music or romance, so she’d known better than to suggest that he did it.

She was lighting candles when he came back. ‘It’s a bit gloomy in here, isn’t it?’ he said, looking around. ‘Darcy won’t be able to see what she’s eating.’

‘It’s not gloomy. It’s romantic.’

Allegra straightened from the candles and studied Max, who had replaced his checked shirt with one in a dark mulberry colour that shrieked expensive and stylish. He was wearing new black jeans too, and all in all he was looking mighty fine. So fine, in fact, that she forgot about the match burning in her hand.

‘Ouch!’ Allegra shook the match from her hand and sucked her finger. ‘Is that the shirt Dickie picked out for you?’ she asked, covering her sudden confusion by bending to pick up the match.

‘Of course.’ Max plucked at it in distaste. ‘You wouldn’t catch me buying a red shirt, but Dickie insisted.’

‘He was right. You look good,’ said Allegra honestly. She tossed the blackened match into the bin and turned back to face him. She had herself back under control. ‘If I could just make one teeny change...?’

Without waiting for Max to agree, she walked over and undid another button at his throat. Ignoring his protests, she turned her attention to his cuffs, unfastening them and rolling them up above his wrists.

But standing so close to him was making her feel a bit light-headed, and she was excruciatingly conscious of her fingertips grazing his forearms with their fine, flat hairs. The air had shortened, making her heart pound ridiculously. She wanted to say something light, something casual to break the atmosphere, but her mind was a blank and she didn’t dare meet Max’s eyes in case...

In case what?

In case he kissed her. In case she kissed him.

Allegra swallowed hard. This was silly. She’d just got over that mad period when she’d been so inexplicably conscious of him. The last few days had been fine, cooking, talking easily, sniping at each other, laughing with each other. They’d dutifully practised the basic waltz step and even seemed to be getting the hang of it. It had been just like the old days.

And now he’d put on a new shirt and that awful thump was back in her belly. Allegra didn’t like it one little bit.

Clearing her throat, she patted the second sleeve into place and stepped back. ‘There, that’s better,’ she said.

Max immediately started fidgeting with his cuffs. ‘It looks so messy like this,’ he complained until Allegra had to slap his hands away.

‘Leave them! Those cuffs are the difference between looking like a nerd and looking like a hunk.’

‘A hunk?’ Max echoed, revolted.

‘Okay, not a hunk,’ she amended, ‘but more normal, anyway. Like you might possibly have some social skills. And, talking of which,’ she said as she struck another match to light the rest of the candles, ‘remember this evening’s about making Darcy feel really special. Ask her lots of questions about what she does and how she feels about things.’

‘Yeah, yeah, we’ve been through this,’ said Max, straightening the knives and forks on the table.

Allegra blew out the match and admired the way the flames danced above the candles. ‘Are you sure it’s all under control in the kitchen?’

‘Positive. I wrote out a time plan, and I don’t need to do anything until seventeen minutes after she arrives.’

‘Right. Seventeen minutes. Because you wouldn’t want to eat a minute later than scheduled, would you?’ Allegra rolled her eyes, but Max was unfazed.

‘You’re the one who wants the meal to be a success,’ he pointed out. He looked at his watch yet again. ‘Shouldn’t she be here by now?’

‘I sent a car. I hope she’s not going to be late. We can’t really have a drink until she gets here, and I’m gasping for one.’

‘We could practice our waltz steps,’ Max suggested without any enthusiasm, but Allegra jumped up.

‘That’s a great idea. We need to be able to wow Cathy with our progress next week.’

They had practised several times now and it no longer felt uncomfortable to rest one hand on his shoulder, or to feel his arm around her waist. They set off briskly, moving their feet around an invisible box, the way Cathy had taught them, while Allegra hummed an approximation of a waltz.

‘Hey, we’re getting good at this,’ Max said after a while. ‘Shall we try a turn?’

Allegra was up for it but, the moment they tried to do something different, their feet got muddled up and they stumbled. Disentangling themselves, they tried again. This time they managed so well that Max got fancy. They were both elated at their success and, laughing, he spun her round and dipped her over his arm with a flourish.

And there it would have ended if they hadn’t made the mistake of looking into each other’s eyes. They could have straightened, still laughing, and it would have been fine.

But no! Their eyes had to lock so that the laughter evaporated without warning, leaving their smiles to fade. Allegra was still bent ridiculously over Max’s arm but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his. The air felt as if it was tightening around them, squeezing out all the oxygen, and her pulse was booming and thudding. She couldn’t have moved if she had tried.

Later, she wondered if she had imagined the fact that Max’s head had started to move down to hers. Certainly at the time she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when the shrill of the doorbell jerked them both out of their daze.

‘Darcy!’ Flustered, Allegra pulled out of Max’s hold and smoothed down her hair. What was she doing? She had forgotten all about the article for a few moments there.

Allegra had forgotten quite how beautiful Darcy was. Max greeted her at the door and when he showed her in she seemed to light up the room. Her blonde hair fell over one shoulder in a fishtail braid that looked casual but must have taken her hours to achieve, and her skin glowed. She was wearing an electric-blue dress that showed off her stupendous figure. If Allegra wasn’t much mistaken, the dress was from a high street chain rather than a designer but Darcy made it look stunning. From her bee-stung lips to the tips of her Christian Louboutin shoes—no whiff of the high street there—she was perfect.

By rights, Allegra ought to hate her, but Darcy was so warm and friendly that it was impossible.

‘This all looks wonderful,’ she said, looking around the room. ‘You’ve gone to so much trouble, Max!’

Max took it without a blink. ‘Nothing’s too much trouble for you, Darcy,’ he said, but he avoided Allegra’s eyes. ‘Now, let’s have some champagne...’

Everything was going swimmingly, Allegra thought later. Dom turned up a few minutes later and took a few pictures of Max in the kitchen, and then of Max and Darcy sitting at the table with the starter, but once he had gone they were able to enjoy the meal. The three of them chatted so easily that Allegra kept forgetting that she was supposed to be just an observer, and after a while she put her notebook aside.

She had imagined that taut moment of awareness just before Darcy rang the doorbell, she told herself. Look at them now, talking like old friends. There was no crackling in the air between them, no zing every time their eyes met. She had made the whole thing up.

The food wasn’t too bad either. What it lacked in presentational flair, it made up for in efficiency, with Max putting each course on the table with military precision.

All in all, the second task was a huge success, Allegra congratulated herself.

‘Coffee?’ Max asked at last.

‘Actually, I’d love a herbal tea if you’ve got one,’ said Darcy, and Max rolled an agonized look at Allegra.

‘In the cupboard above the kettle,’ she said.

The moment Max went out to put the kettle on, Darcy leant towards Allegra. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure,’ said Allegra in surprise.

‘Are you guys...?’

‘What?’

‘You and Max,’ said Darcy delicately. ‘I asked Max if you were an item, but he said you were just friends.’ She looked at Allegra. ‘Is that right?’

Allegra felt unaccountably miffed at the way Max had disclaimed any interest in her, but she could hardly deny it. ‘Of course,’ she said, taking a casual sip of wine. ‘Max is practically my brother.’

‘Oh, that’s good. So you won’t mind if I asked Max to dinner at my place?’

Allegra choked on her wine. ‘Dinner?’ she spluttered.

‘Yes. Not as part of the Glitz deal, but like a proper date.’

‘You want to date Max?’

Darcy laughed a little self-consciously. ‘I think he’s cute.’

Max? Cute?

‘He’s not like the usual guys I date,’ Darcy went on.

Allegra thought of the actors and rock stars who had been linked to Darcy, über hunks every one of them, and she blinked. ‘You can say that again.’

‘I kinda like him,’ Darcy confessed. ‘Do you think he’d say yes?’

A famous lingerie model inviting him to spend the evening alone with her at her house. Like Max would turn that invitation down.

‘You should ask Max, not me,’ said Allegra stiffly.

‘You don’t sound very keen on the idea,’ said Darcy, who was a lot more perceptive than she looked. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’

‘It’s not that. It’s just...well, Max puts on a good show, but his fiancée broke off their engagement not very long ago. I wouldn’t want him to get hurt again. I mean...’

Allegra was floundering, wishing she had never started on this. ‘...It’s just that you’re so gorgeous and you must have so many men after you. I...I’d hate it if you were just amusing yourself with Max and he ended up taking you too seriously. And I can see why he would,’ she said with honest envy. ‘I can’t imagine any guy not falling heavily for you.’

‘You’d be surprised,’ said Darcy with a touch of bitterness. ‘I don’t understand why I’ve got such a reputation as a man-eater. Nobody ever worries that I might be the one to get hurt, do they?’

‘Max isn’t your usual type,’ Allegra pointed out and Darcy nodded.

‘That’s why I’d like to get to know him better. I’m sick of guys who are all moody and dramatic, or who just want to be with me so they can get their name in the papers.’

‘Well, you certainly wouldn’t need to worry about that with Max.’

‘Great. Well, if you’re sure you’re okay with it, I’ll ask him.’

Allegra wasn’t at all sure that she was okay with it, but she couldn’t think of a single reason why not. Max was a grown man. He didn’t need her to look after him, and she could hardly veto his chance to fulfil every man’s fantasy of going out with Darcy, could she? He deserved some fun after Emma’s rejection.

So why did she have this leaden feeling in her stomach?

When Max came back with the coffee and the herbal tea, Allegra took her mug and excused herself. ‘I’ll leave you two together,’ she said with a brilliant smile. ‘I need to go and write up my notes. Have fun.’

* * *

‘What do you mean, you’re not coming?’ Max stared at Allegra in consternation.

‘I’m going to dinner at Flick’s,’ she pointed out. ‘Plus, I’m not invited.’

‘I thought you’d be going too. And Dom.’

‘Max, Darcy’s invited you to supper. It’s nothing to do with the article.’

‘Why?’ he asked, puzzled.

‘Crazy thought, but maybe she likes you.’

Thrown by this new information, Max dragged a hand through his hair. The truth was that he hadn’t really listened when Darcy had invited him the evening he’d cooked her dinner. It was after Allegra had gone to her room, and he’d just assumed that another task was involved.

Darcy liked him?

‘You mean, like on a date?’ he asked cautiously and Allegra rolled her eyes. She was doing something complicated with her hair in front of the mirror over the mantelpiece.

‘I’d have thought you’d have been over the moon,’ she said, through a mouthful of hairclips.

‘Darcy King wants to go out with me?’

‘I know, I thought it was unlikely too,’ said Allegra, fixing another clip into place.

Max sat on the sofa and tossed the remote from hand to hand. Darcy King. She was gorgeous, sexy, warm, nice. Why wasn’t he ecstatic?

‘I thought I was just signing up for this article of yours,’ he said grouchily. ‘I didn’t realise I’d be getting involved in other stuff as well.’

‘It’s just dinner, Max. I don’t suppose she’s planning on a bout of eye-popping sex straight away.’

Apparently satisfied with her hair, Allegra turned from the mirror. It never failed to amaze Max how she could spend so long achieving a range of hairstyles, each messier than the last. That evening she had twisted it up and fixed it into place with a clip, but bits stuck out wildly from the clip, and other strands fell around her face. Max’s fingers itched to smooth them behind her ears, but the idea of sliding his fingers through that silky hair was so tantalising that for a moment he lost track of the conversation.

‘You ought to be flattered,’ she said.

‘I am,’ said Max, wrenching his mind back from a disturbingly vivid image of pulling that clip from her hair and letting it fall, soft and shiny, to her shoulders. ‘It’s just...I don’t want to complicate things.’

‘What’s complicated about dinner? You had dinner with Darcy the other night and this time you won’t even have to worry about the cooking.’

‘It’s not that.’ How could he tell Allegra that, much as he liked Darcy, he found her a bit overwhelming? ‘It’s not long since I was engaged to Emma,’ he said, grasping at the excuse. ‘It feels too soon to be getting involved with anyone else.’

Allegra’s face softened instantly and then she snarled every one of his senses by coming to sit on the sofa beside him and placing her hand on his knee.

‘I’m sorry, I keep forgetting that you must still be gutted about Emma.’

Max didn’t think gutted was quite the right word, in fact, but with Allegra sitting so close, her green eyes huge and warm with sympathy, it was all he could do to nod.

‘Darcy knows you were engaged,’ Allegra went on, with a comforting rub on his thigh. At least, Max assumed it was meant to be comforting, although in practice it was excruciatingly arousing. If she moved her hand any higher, he couldn’t be responsible for his actions... As unobtrusively as he could, he shifted along the sofa.

Allegra was still talking, still looking at him with those big, earnest eyes, completely unaware of the effect she was having on him. ‘She won’t expect you to fall madly in love with her, Max. It’ll just be dinner. Darcy’s nice, and it’ll be a boost for your ego, if nothing else. You should go and forget about Emma for an evening.’

It wasn’t Emma he needed to forget, it was the feel of Allegra’s hand on his leg, but Max heard himself agreeing just so that he could get up before he grabbed her and rolled her beneath him on the sofa. He had to give himself a few mental slaps before he had himself under control enough to change and go back down to the sitting room, where Allegra was perched on the armchair and bending over to ease on a pair of precipitously-heeled shoes. She was in a dark floral sleeveless dress with black lace over the shoulders and a skirt that showed off miles of leg in black stockings, and Max’s throat promptly dried all over again.

Those loose strands of hair had slithered forward when she bent her head and she tucked them behind her ears as she glanced up to see Max standing in the doorway. There was an odd little jump in the air as their eyes met, and then both looked away.

‘You look nice,’ Max said gruffly.

‘Thank you.’ Her gaze skimmed his then skittered away. ‘Is that one of the shirts Dickie picked out for you?’

‘Yes.’ Self-consciously, he held his arms out from his side. ‘Why, is it too casual?’

‘It’s perfect—or it would be if you rolled up your cuffs, and...’ Allegra pointed at her throat to indicate that his collar was too tightly buttoned.

She had a thing about his collar, but Max knew from experience that it wasn’t worth the argument. With a long-suffering sigh, he unfastened another button before starting on his cuffs. She had a thing about those too. He could do them up again as soon as she’d gone.

‘So, you’re seeing your mother,’ he said after a moment. ‘What’s it going to be? A cosy night in with just the two of you?’

Max knew as well as she did that Flick didn’t do cosy, but Allegra couldn’t help smiling a little wistfully. She adored her mother, and it made her feel disloyal to wish sometimes that Flick could be a little—just a little!—more like Libby and Max’s mum, who was easygoing and gave wonderful hugs and would happily watch I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here! instead of the news. The first time Allegra had been to stay with Libby they had had supper on their laps in front of the television, and it had felt deliciously subversive.

‘I think there’ll be a few people there,’ she told Max as she wiggled her feet into a more comfortable position in her shoes. ‘She says she’s got someone she wants me to meet.’

Max started on his second cuff, his expression sardonic. ‘Flick’s setting you up with a new boyfriend?’

‘Maybe.’

‘You don’t sound very keen.’

She hadn’t, had she? She’d sounded like someone who would really rather be staying at home. That would never do.

Allegra stood up and tested her shoes. ‘Of course I’m keen,’ she said. ‘The men my mother introduces me to are always intelligent, cultured, amusing, interesting... Why wouldn’t I be keen?’

‘No reason when you put it like that,’ said Max. He had dealt with his cuffs and now he stood in the centre of the room with his hands in his pockets, looking sulky and surly and disconcertingly attractive. Allegra almost told him to button up his shirt again so he could go back to looking stuffy and repressed.

‘I’m feeling positive,’ she said airily. ‘This guy could be The One. I could be on my way to meet true love!’

Max snorted. ‘Well, don’t make a date for Wednesday, that’s all.’

He had finally heard from Bob Laskovski’s office. Bob and his wife would be in London the following week and the dinner to meet Max and his ‘fiancée’ was arranged for the Wednesday night. Max was nervous about the whole business, Allegra knew. He wasn’t comfortable with deception, but he was desperate for the Shofrar job. Perhaps that was why he was so grouchy at the moment?

Darcy was welcome to him, Allegra told herself as she flipped open her phone to call a cab. She couldn’t care less that Max was having supper with a lingerie model. She was going out to have a great time and meet a fabulous new guy. And, who knew, maybe she’d find true love at last as well.

* * *

Flick still lived in the four-storey Georgian house in a much sought after part of Islington where Allegra had grown up but it never felt like going home. The house was immaculately decorated and most visitors gasped in envy when they stepped inside, but Allegra much preferred the Warriners’ house with its scuffed skirting boards and faded chair covers.

Flick’s dinner parties were famous, less for the food, which was always catered, than for the company. Politicians, media stars, business leaders, diplomats, writers, artists, musicians, journalists...anyone who was anyone in London jostled for a coveted invitation to sit at Flick’s dining table. No celebrities, pop stars or soap opera actors need apply, though. Flick insisted on a certain intellectual rigour.

Thus Allegra found herself sitting between Dan, a fast-track civil servant, obviously destined for greatness, while William, on her right, was a political aide. They both worked in government circles and were both high-flyers, full of gossip and opinion.

Toying with her marinated scallops, Allegra felt boring and uninformed in comparison. She couldn’t think of a single clever or witty thing to say.

Not that it mattered much. The conversation around the table was fast and furious as usual, but no one was interested in her opinion anyway, and it was enough for Allegra to keep a smile fixed to her face.

Beside her, Dan had launched into a scurrilous story about a politician everybody else seemed to know but who Allegra had never heard of. She laughed when everybody else laughed, but she was wondering how Max was getting on with Darcy. Would he sleep with her? Allegra realised that she had stopped smiling and hurriedly put her smile back in place.

Why did she care? Max would be leaving soon anyway, and it wasn’t as if he was interested in her. True, there had been that moment when their eyes had met earlier, when she was putting on her shoes and had glanced up to find him watching her and something had leapt in the air between them.

It was just because they were spending so much time together for the article, Allegra told herself. It wasn’t that she would really rather be sharing pizza with Max in front of the television than sitting here at this glamorous, glittering party. Of course she wouldn’t.

Oh, God, she had missed Dan’s punchline. At the other end of the table, she caught Flick’s eye and the tiny admonishing frown and sat up straighter.

Beside her, William was filling her glass, teasing her out of her abstraction. His eyes were warm, and she was picking up definite vibes. Allegra gazed at him, determined to find him attractive. She’d already established that he’d split up with his long-term girlfriend a year ago. A mutual thing, he’d said. They were still friends.

So no obvious emotional baggage. Unlike Max, who was still sore about Emma.

William was very good-looking. Charming. Assured. Also unlike Max.

He would be staying in London. Unlike Max.

He seemed to be finding her attractive. Unlike Max.

He was perfect boyfriend material. Unlike Max.

If William asked her out, she would say yes.

Definitely. She might even fall in love with him.