Six luncheons in five days.

Not to mention the breakfasts, teas, cocktail and dinner parties. The total sum of which amounted to an exhausting week and a likely expanding waistband.

Previously, I had always rolled my eyes at socialites who complained of the hardship of attending posh events, but now, after just barely surviving my first full week of Eliza's scheduling, I've developed a much more sympathetic view.

By Friday, all I wanted was to run away to the countryside and never engage in small-talk ever again. Of course, it helped that all of the events were for a good cause, though admittedly at times I couldn't help but wonder how much money spent on event planning could have been diverted to more practical uses...

The last event on the docket was tea and a tour of a hospital with a newly renovated children's ward paid for in large part by the foundation.

The attention of the hospital administrators and board members had been largely focused on Tom, flattering him with praise and gratitude. Tom was gracious the whole time, and while I knew he was more exhausted than I was as he still had a full-time job, Tom eagerly accepted their request to present him with the hospital's future development plan.

As the group moved toward the conference room, Tom subtly let go of my hand. Accepting his invitation to escape for a breath of fresh air, I slipped through a nearby glass door and stepped out onto an enclosed patio.

The ground was covered in smoothed cobblestones and littered with large potted leafy plants and sweet smelling flowers. The sun warmed my skin so satisfyingly that I closed my eyes, hugged my arms, and slowly drew a deep breath.

The moment was so serenely peaceful that I nearly screamed at the sound of her voice from behind me.

"Hello!"

I reflexively spun on my heel and clutched at my gasping chest. "Christ!"

"Name's Alice, actually."

She was a little girl-or perhaps not so little, it was difficult to tell-sitting on a stone bench wedged between two very large shrubs.

Her expression had the air of adolescent snark, but her bald scalp made her appear older than her years. Conversely, her thin figure and brightly patterned clothing made her seem several years younger.

"Right, course." I managed before screwing my eyes shut. "God, I'm terribly sorry!"

"Whatever for?"

"Well for-well, you're not supposed to say the Lord's name in vain," I tried to explain.

The girl-Alice-blinked in surprise. "I'm not?"

"Well," I faltered slightly, "technically only if you're religious."

"I'm not. Are you?"

I hesitated, thrown for a moment by her frankness. "Eh, no. I can't say that I am."

She shrugged. "Then I suppose we're all set then."

"Right, suppose we are... " I glanced around searching for anyone else occupying the empty courtyard."Are you here by yourself?"

"Mum and Dad are probably around somewhere."

I turned back to face her. She had the most startling eyes. It wasn't their color or size, though they were quite large. No, it was the way they looked at you. The way she looked me: openly curious and almost daring... something I couldn't yet tell.

"Won't they be looking for you?"

"Nah, they know my favorite places 'round here."

I hesitated unsure if I should ask the question, but then I met those large, brown eyes of hers and it just slipped out. "You come here often?"

Alice smiled patiently as if she were the adult talking to the child who needed explanations for the most rudimentary concepts. "I live here."

I instantly regretted my question, but before I could think how to backpedal Alice folded her arms and followed my question with another.

"Can you juggle?"

The seeming randomness of her query jarred me from my panicking.

"Well... that depends if it's deadlines or flying objects."

She accepted my answer with another question. "How about magic tricks?"

I shook my head. "Muggle through-and-through I'm afraid."

"Are you famous?"

My laugh practically echoed against the hospital walls enclosing the patio. "No," I assured her, "I'm not."

Alice frowned in confusion. "So why are you here?"

"I..." My eyes drifted in the direction of where I knew the conference room to be. "My boyfriend brought me."

It sounded lame even to my adult ears.

"Does he have cancer?"

My eyes bulged at that. "No, no h-he doesn't."

Alice just slightly softened at that. "Do you?"

"No, I don't either. He-well, he sort of works with the hospital and he invited me along for a visit."

Alice practically snorted. "So is that what you are? A girlfriend?"

"No!" I exclaimed rather indignant. I straightened my back as I tried to rack my brain for the right answer."I... I'm a writer."

And for the first time in my life, it didn't feel like a lie to say it.

Alice immediately perked up, the role of writer clearly of more interest to her than that of girlfriend. She scooted to the side of the bench and eagerly patted the spot next to her.

Grinning, I obliged and perched next to her on the cool stone.

She turned to me expectantly. "What do you do as a writer?"

I shrugged. "I make up stories."

"I get into trouble when I do that," she commented wistfully.

I laughed again, relishing the feeling.

"Well," she gestured, "go on then."

I blinked. "Pardon?"

Alice playfully rolled her eyes as if her meaning were obvious. "Make up a story."

"What-now?" I balked.

"Do you need to do some sort of ritual first?"

"Well no, but..."

"Then get on with it. I'll even help you," she offered as she straightened her spine. "I'll be your inspiration for your main character-so long as you promise to make her extraordinary."

I smiled as I took in the peculiar young woman before me.

"I promise," I said. Then I took a deep breath and began: "Once, there was a girl named Alice."