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Charlotte
She couldn’t keep the smile off her face after she ended the call to Jacob. Had she not recognised the Brentwell code and thought it was someone calling about work, she wouldn’t even have answered it, but now she felt so glad that she had. The conversation hadn’t exactly been straightforward, but the fact that he had sounded crazily nervous meant he was finding it difficult to talk to her … and that only meant one thing. Well, two things if he had social anxiety, but she didn’t think he did because he had a normal job—if working in your aunt’s tearoom could be considered normal, but it was a pretty busy and well-known place, and since he dealt with customers that meant he was used to speaking with people and if he had struggled to make any sense when he spoke to her, it meant he was nervous about speaking to her in particular and she had watched enough romantic comedies to know that could only mean one thing—
Deep breath, Charlotte. She stared at herself in the hall mirror. She had already set out her clothes for school tomorrow, but would those be all right if Jacob came by after work? What about the light blue blouse instead of the green one? It might go better with the snow, since it showed no sign of stopping—
The roar of a car engine came from outside, sending Harry into a mania of barking. Charlotte let out a horrified gasp.
Of course, her date. Already having second thoughts, she had thought about cancelling after the call with Jacob, but it was too short-notice, and she didn’t want to be rude. The lure of James’s money and mystique had lost its appeal already, but he really hadn’t taken no for an answer. Kelly had suggested she go just to see where he took her; after all, it would take some effort to top a first date in Paris via helicopter, but he was the kind of man who would probably make an effort to try.
Just this last time. If he was as astute as he appeared, he might pick up on her feelings. If not, she would just have to apologise for wasting his time. She would even offer to pay, although it might end up maxing out her credit card. While James could no doubt afford whatever he had planned, she didn’t want to feel like she was exploiting him.
It was a tough dilemma, but now that he was here, she had no more time to think about it. She adjusted the little woolly hat perched on top of her bob, then zipped up her coat, just as a knock came on the door.
James stood there in all his flamboyant glory. Beneath a black jacket he wore a dark crimson suit that looked tailored and probably cost as much as Charlotte’s car. Harry sniffed at him, then let out a little growl. Charlotte nudged the dog back behind her with her foot as James waved a mystical hand, glared at Harry, and muttered, ‘Poof, enjoy the pound,’ so quietly that Charlotte felt sure she wasn’t supposed to hear. Then, resuming character, he looked up at her and said, ‘Madam, your chariot awaits.’
He stepped aside. Idling at the kerb was a huge silver Rolls Royce. A powerful engine grumbled, thick snow tyres looking ready to tear up the wintery road.
‘Oh, wow.’
It was impossible not to be impressed. It was the kind of car you only saw in magazines. Charlotte hadn’t even realised such things existed in real life until now, at least not in the lives of average, day-to-day people like herself. Had she heard piped music playing something by Bryan Adams or Chris Rea she wouldn’t have been at all surprised.
‘Real, my dear. Not an illusion this time. I wish I could say that it was mine, but alas it’s merely a rental. One of only three in the UK. It does come complete with its own footman, in order that we may converse on the journey.’
The “footman” mentioned was now standing outside the driver’s side door under an umbrella, and looked keen to get back inside.
‘It’s quite something, isn’t it?’
‘Not quite unique, but close enough. I keep it on a retainer, in case I need it at short notice.’
‘Do you take lots of girls on dates in it?’
She had meant it as a joke, but James looked momentarily taken aback, the gatehouse of his personality briefly breached. He looked away a moment, as though composing himself, then said, ‘A car such as this has various uses.’
‘I’m sure. Have you ever made it disappear?’
Back in familiar territory, James smiled. ‘Of course. But I could never make it vanish for good. Such a fine thing as this.’ He lifted a hand. ‘Shall we?’
She didn’t want to touch him, but he was wearing gloves, and so was she. She tucked Harry back inside the door, making eyes at the dog as though to apologise, then let James lead her out to the car.
The inside was as plush as the outside was smooth, leather-clad seats with velvet armrests. She settled in as James instructed the driver to leave.
‘Where are we going?’
‘That’s a secret, of course.’
‘I’m happy enough just to drive around for a while.’
‘My dear, that would be too trivial, don’t you think? Like a beautiful package with something frugal inside.’
Charlotte shrugged, unsure what to say. Then, remembering that he had performed a show at the Brentwell Public Theatre the night before, she asked, ‘How did your show go yesterday? A couple of people from work were planning to go.’
James grinned. ‘Sold out, of course. The audience was astounded. Even working a stage as restrictive and basic as that, I was able to pull off illusions that they will never forget.’
‘It sounds nice.’
‘Yes. It was.’
