AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Good job it’s only two p.m., then. I doubt he’ll be gigging at this time of day.”
“We chancing it?” Eb asks, and I nod.
“Yeah, onyx bracelet calling, and Camden goth shops do the best.”
Despite my bravado, I still get a flash of edginess when we step onto the street outside Camden tube station. It’s so familiar, and filled with the ghosts of old dreams. It’s nothing, my rational brain insists. I tell myself it won’t make any difference if I run into my poor excuse of an ex, even though I did get squicked out to fuck when one of his home recorded videos popped up on my social media feed this morning in the bathroom.
I thought I’d blocked Connor on just about everything going, but clearly not. I should have at least blocked him on that platform as well, and not clicked on his profile to find he’s gone up to nearly 22k followers. I shouldn’t have watched him crooning into the microphone like a rock legend waiting for the spotlight. It still made me feel sick to the stomach. I’m surprised I was up to eating sausage sandwiches after that shocker.
What a relief that Josh was there to hold me close and make it better. He even watched one of Connor’s videos and gave a he’s pretty good, actually. Not even a hint of jealousy in sight.
That’s trust for you. That’s faith. That’s love.
I’m fine and over the edginess by the time we reach my favourite crystal shop. Ebony looks around in fascination at their quartz obelisks and amethyst geodes, and I spot the selection of jewellery I’ve been looking for, right at the back. Lovely strings of jet black onyx mixed with sterling silver spirals.
“Twenty-five quid?” Eb asks when I point my favourite one out to her. “Seriously? I thought it would be at least fifty. You’re taking the piss. That’s hardly a fair swap for the dress.”
I laugh. “Get me two then, if you must.”
I’m joking, but she isn’t when she picks out a lovely looking pair of quartz earrings, hung on infinity loops of silver.
“There we go,” she says once she’s paid for my gifts. “You’re stuck with me as a friend for infinity now. Call it symbolic and spiritual and all that jazz.”
We’re walking up the street to the Devonshire Arms for an afternoon drink when I get the familiar buzz of an Agency notification through on my phone. It’s not a proposal one, though. It’s the official one. It’s from Orla – one of the three Agency bosses – and her message takes me by surprise.
Did you invite a man called Richard Jacobs from Kingsgate Lettings to join our client base? He’s been emailing us, urging us to set him up with a ‘booking’ for your services. He knows you by your full name, not by your profile one. If you did, then please refer to the terms of contract, because we don’t take on clients by word of mouth, not like that.
“What?” asks Eb, and I show her the text. “Jesus Christ,” she says. “The prick’s been digging, trying to find you. He can get fucked.”
“Or not get fucked, hopefully.”
I can’t type out my reply fast enough.
No. I did not invite Richard Jacobs to become a client. He’s an idiot who heard rumours of Tiff and Josh, and took the apartment I’d signed up for off me when I refused to fuck him for cash. Please, please don’t take him on the books. He must have got your details from my tenancy application. There’s no way I’d have ever told him about my role with you.
I stare at the screen until Orla replies.
Noted, thanks. And don’t worry about Richard. You won’t hear from him again.
Phew, the relief.
Another ping comes through.
You say he took your apartment from you? One you were looking to rent through Kingsgate?
My reply is instant.
Yeah. He’s horrible. Luckily, I’m staying with Josh now. (Weston). Otherwise, I’d have been frantic and royally screwed.
Another notification.
Don’t worry about Richard, and don’t worry about Kingsgate. Watch this space.
I read the message in confusion, then show Eb what Orla has said. Eb doesn’t share my confusion at all, though. She lets out a laugh, and clenches her fist in celebration.
“What?” I ask. “Am I missing something?”
“Um, just a little,” she says. “The clients who pay you thousands a night for your service, who do you think they are? The richer ones behind the scenes, too. The ones who pay the kind of cash Tiffany works for?”
