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“Thought I’d check it out,” I say, then roll onto my side and laugh along with her. “I don’t need any furniture, after all. This carpet is comfy enough to be a bed.”
“You’re something special, you know that?”
I catch my breath and stare up at the ceiling, and the host of sunken LED lights with eight billion settings.
Yeah, I better had be something special, clocking up every five-star review I can muster. This new lifestyle doesn’t come cheap. So, best off starting on a high tonight.
“Let’s get down to Richard,” I say. “I’ve got a new client at eight who wants me in filthy, wet panties. Good job we’ve been marching around apartments, on a bright sunny day.”
“Nice.” She helps me to my feet. “Make sure you don’t say that in front of Richard, or he’ll be asking for those dirty panties as a deposit.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You’ve been checking out Dick’s dick through the viewings?”
She gives me a wink. “Sure have. That’s my job, baby.”
I take her hand when we reach the elevator, giving it a squeeze when we step inside.
Yeah, it is her job, and she’s crazy good at it.
Back at Kingsgate we wait for ever for Richard. We can see him in his office, on the phone, and I just know he’s talking about me. Lives in a shithole. Bad credit score. I feel like I’m doomed.
“It’s ok,” Eb says, “he’s probably talking to his wife, explaining he’s gonna be late because he has new images in his mental spank bank to ponder.”
I take a breath, barely registering her attempt to reassure me. She’s scrolling through furniture websites and trying to wow me with suggestions as the minutes tick by, but I’m too edgy to care right now.
My panties will be sweaty as fuck given my stress at watching Richard. He’s finished with the phone and is now sitting at his desk, doing something at his PC.
My heart has sunk so low. Fuck how I hate my past life.
“Here he comes.” Eb nudges me.
Richard is coming over, some papers in his hand. He’s smiling. Dare I hope? I say a little prayer anyway.
“Just need three signatures,” he says, handing me the papers and a pen.
Oh my God. I stare at my copy of the tenancy agreement as though it’s a graduation certificate. And in a way, I guess it is.
“All yours,” Richard says. “I’ll call as soon as you can collect the keys.”
I can’t thank him enough, and can’t thank Eb enough for coming along for the ride. I’m squeezing her arm again as we walk down the street to the tube station.
“Welcome to Belgravia, Holly,” she says.
“Thanks. What a shocker.”
“Hardly. I knew it from day one.” She clears her throat. “And on that note… what’s the latest on you and the pierced Adonis?”
I get a huge flutter of butterflies at her words.
“We’ve lined up a date on Friday night. He’s booked a restaurant in Kensington.”
“There you go, picking up a Belgravia apartment and a Belgravia superstar in the same week? Life’s a winner.”
“Yeah, it sure is.”
I only pray it stays that way. Life can be bliss, but heartache can be hiding like a bitch behind any corner. I know that only too well.
I shunt those thoughts aside. The past is over now. Connor is gone, and Belgravia is coming. In the interim, I’ve got clients to focus on. Friday might just be a few nights away, but they are going to be busy ones. Ebony is right. I am a whore-aholic.
