“So you put him first, like you always do.”
“I chose our relationship—I chose the dream of a future together. I thought I’d be able to build an interior design business in London.” The first few months had been spent settling in and establishing contacts. But when Matt had left me, I’d had no clients to speak of and a mortgage to pay. I’d done the only thing I could do—applied for everything I could find whether or not it was design related.
“But you hate recruitment. You said it was just temporary, and that you’d do it while you were building your client list.”
“Yeah, but then life happens.” Recruitment was long hours. Since I started the job, I didn’t feel like my life was my own. My boss seemed to think she owned me. Last Wednesday she’d called me at ten-thirty at night. I’d been in bed with my iPad, watching The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, hoping to stumble across a spell to turn my life around. She didn’t even mention the time, as if it was totally reasonable to call and ask whether the interviews for one of our big clients had gone well. “The only way I could go back to interior design would be if I landed a single client who could keep me busy for, say, six months. That way, I’d have guaranteed money and an up-to-date portfolio that would lead to more work.”
“Can’t you get a job at an interior design business? At least you’d be doing what you loved.”
“There just aren’t many jobs and when they do come up, the pay is terrible because it’s full of trust-fund kids. They don’t need the money.”
“Excuse me.” The very deep, male voice made the soles of my feet vibrate and my skin pebble with goosebumps.
I looked up into the sunshine and found the hot suit who had bought us champagne standing by our table. My smile overtook me as if elbowing my brain, which knew better, out of the way. “Erm, thank you for the champagne,” I mumbled.
“I couldn’t help but notice you as I passed by, and I wanted to get your attention.”
I didn’t say that he’d managed that just by walking by. “It’s a welcome treat after a shitty day,” I replied. He smiled, and for a split second it was as if a ten-foot wall had appeared, surrounding us, blocking out the rest of the world, leaving just the two of us staring at each other.
“I’m sorry to hear that you’ve had a bad day, but I’m pleased I could improve it,” he said, flashing me a smile that I felt in my knees. His broad shoulders, the warmth that bubbled beneath my skin when he spoke, a cupid’s bow so sharply drawn I’d like to follow its curve with my tongue all said the same thing—this guy was all man.
“Please, join us,” Florence said, and I wanted to kill her. She knew I was now sworn to a life of celibacy. I didn’t need Sex-God Suit waving temptation in my face. Plus I was wearing a splash of the miso soup I’d had for lunch—more proof I wasn’t ready to flirt. Date. Interact with men.
“You two have fun,” I said, bending to pick up my bag. “I’m going to head off.”
I knew Florence was scowling at me without even looking at her. But I didn’t care. Okay, so men didn’t hit on me all the time, but today wasn’t the day. I wanted to go home, get into my pajamas, watch Made in Chelsea, and eat my body weight in frozen yogurt.
As I stood, Hot Suit put his hand on my shoulder.
“Five minutes of your time? I have a proposal for you, Stella.”
I froze, a chill running down my spine as I tried to figure out how the hell he knew my name.
Five
Beck
“How do you know my name?” she asked, flashing me a suspicious look.
“May I join you? I’ll explain.” She frowned but didn’t say no, so I pulled a chair from a neighboring table and took a seat. Stella London was the only single woman going to this wedding. The other two possible names were elderly aunts: one who was completely bedbound, the other based in Florida and no longer able to fly. Both were clearly invited just to be polite.
Stella was my last chance. I had to make this work.
I’d headed to Stella’s office to try to meet her. The situation was too complicated to explain in an email—I’d end up sounding like I was one of those Nigerian lawyers promising you a cool hundred mil if you just sent him three hundred quid for admin. I’d decided the best thing to do was to turn up at her office and ask for a meeting—it was a business proposition I was suggesting, after all. As I passed her in the street, she’d looked familiar and beautiful, but I thought nothing more than that as I’d headed into the bar to go to the loo before heading up to her office. While I had my dick in my hand, I’d realized who she was. I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to approach her. There was too much at stake.
“I understand you’re a recruitment consultant,” I said. “And an ambitious one from what I can tell. You’ve been promoted since you joined Foster and Associates, and you’ve only been with them a couple of months.” I paused. I needed to slow down. Take my time. I couldn’t blow this.
I sat back and regarded her. The social media photographs I’d found didn’t do her justice. Her hair was longer and fell in soft, blonde waves to her shoulders and what I’d thought were blue eyes were almost purple—and entirely distracting. She had full lips that bore no trace of make-up, and a beauty spot on her left cheekbone that a fifties Hollywood bombshell would have been proud of.
She looked at me and frowned. “Why do you know how long I’ve been in my job? Never mind, I need to be going.”
“I know this is a little odd.” I sat forward. “Just give me a couple of minutes to explain. I’m here to make you a business proposition. One that I believe you’ll find very interesting.”
I’d done my research on this woman as I always did when entering into a new busin
ess relationship. The worst thing in development was to be surprised after work started. It was the easiest way to overspend. Much easier to spend the effort up front—understand what things were going to cost you and put it into your budget.
From my research, I’d seen that Stella had progressed quickly in her job since coming to London. She’d had a career change, but she was clearly ambitious and driven. She’d given an interview in a trade magazine last month talking about how much she loved the firm she worked for and how she hoped to be partner. I needed to make sure she said yes to my proposal, so it made sense that I would offer her something she really wanted—a further step up, a chance to realize her ambitions. I didn’t have time to waste negotiating. I needed Stella to agree.