Gold Diggers - Page 14

‘What’s that?’

‘I sort of like it when you’re mean to me.’

Erin felt physically shattered. She’d been on her aching feet for fifteen hours, but the excitement and adrenaline were still coursing through her body like an electric current. Everything had seemed to go smoothly, the show was spectacular, even Irina had been happy; so happy, in fact, that she had ended up making a £400,000 bid for the diamond bikini.

‘It will be perfect for Nikki Beach next summer,’ she had purred to Erin on her way out, kissing her on both cheeks and saying goodnight in Russian.

She wondered anxiously what Karin had made of it all. The last three weeks she had been barked at, abused, pushed to the very limits of her ability. It had been twenty-one days of fetching, carrying, sorting, running – she had been little more than Karin’s slave. And for what? So 800 fabulously wealthy people could get pissed, flirt with their friends’ husbands and show off how rich they were by buying holidays that they would never go on or jewellery they would never wear. She wanted to hate this world but, realizing her time in it would soon be over, she felt a pang of regret. Karin’s universe was like a Scott Fitzgerald novel and she did not want to let it go, certainly not to return to Cornwall and unemployment. She allowed herself an illegal swig of Evian and went to find Karin; she had a message from Adam Gold’s helicopter pilot that the winds were getting up and that they needed to leave soon.

‘Erin, right? Karin’s PA?’ said a tall, dark-haired man collecting an overcoat from the cloakroom.

‘That’s right,’ she said distractedly. She was still scanning the room looking for Karin.

‘Adam Gold. I was on Karin’s table. I was just looking for her to say thank you and goodnight.’

Adam Gold! She looked up. Christ, he was handsome, she thought, unable to tear her eyes away from him. Businessmen weren’t her usual type and this guy must be at least forty, but still … his eyes had the sexiest glint she had ever seen.

‘Ah, um, Mr Gold. Actually I was looking for you,’ said Erin awkwardly, ‘I have a message from your pilot.’

He smiled so the corners of his eyes crinkled. ‘Nice work with the Russians, by the way. I thought you handled it brilliantly.’

‘And to think I thought my Russian degree was wasted serving drinks,’ she smiled.

Adam paused for one moment, his eyes searching hers. Erin could feel her face begin to flush.

‘How do you like working for Karin?’ asked Adam.

‘It’s great,’ said Erin cautiously. ‘Was great. It was only a temporary gig. Tomorrow’s my last day really.’

Adam smiled that crinkle-eyed smile again, making Erin feel a little weak. ‘Oh, well, that’s convenient. I’d hate to poach anyone from the hostess.’

Erin took a breath, but nothing would come.

‘You speak languages?’ he asked her.

Erin nodded. ‘Russian, French, and a bit of Italian.’

‘Are you organized?’

Erin barked out a laugh and spread her hands to indicate the party. ‘After this week, I should hope so!’

‘Listen, Erin, I need a PA. Mine came over from New York with me but she’s missing her family and wants to go home. Goddamn lightweight,’ he grumbled.

Erin nodded in sympathy, which she immediately decided was a mistake.

‘So are you interested?’

‘But you don’t even know me,’ said Erin, totally gobsmacked.

‘How do you think I made the Forbes four hundred?’ he said bluntly.

‘Um, property?’ guessed Erin, wincing.

‘By trusting my instincts,’ he replied flatly.

‘So you’re offering me a job?’ she said, unable to stifle a small, incredulous laugh.

‘You’ve impressed me,’ he said, the eyes crinkling again.

Tags: Tasmina Perry Fiction
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