Reform Of The Playboy. Mary LyonsЧитать онлайн книгу.
I’ve worked it all out, and— Oh, my goodness! There’s Declan Malone, the famous TV reporter, and his new wife Olivia,’ Sophie exclaimed excitedly. ‘I must just try and have a quick word with him,’ she added, slipping off her high bar stool. ‘If I can maybe persuade them to sell their house, I’ve got at least two clients who’d be willing to snap it up straight away.’
Harriet sighed and shook her head. She was having difficulty getting used to her old schoolfriend’s metamorphosis into ‘Little Miss Fix-It.’ In fact, when introducing Sophie to the estate agent who’d been handling the sale of her aunt’s house in Lansdowne Gardens, Harriet had no idea that the other girl’s new career would prove to be such a success.
After living a butterfly existence, flitting from job to job and never staying in any position for more than a few months, it now seemed as though Sophie had at last discovered her true vocation.
As her friend had explained, only the other day, ‘It’s just the same as introducing friends at a party. Only instead of hoping that they’ll like one another—I’m hoping that they’ll fall in love with a house, instead.’ And, since Sophie possessed an address book practically bulging at the seams, it seemed very likely that she would be ‘introducing’ her friends and acquaintances to various properties in the area for some time to come.
Although Harriet had doubts about the wisdom of renting the lower ground flat in her own house to Sophie, that too had proved to be a great success. With its own private entrance out on to the street, it meant that the two girls, while remaining close friends, had no problem in living their own separate lives.
But, now that Sophie seemed intent on introducing a strange man into her house, Harriet couldn’t help thinking that things were going to change—and not necessarily for the better.
‘No, Declan and Olivia aren’t interested in selling their house,’ Sophie said, forcing her way through the crowd as she joined Harriet at the bar. ‘Still, it’s always fun to meet new people, and you never know—they might just change their minds and give me a call.’
‘Do you ever stop networking?’ Harriet enquired, the slightly caustic note in her voice going completely over her friend’s head.
‘Absolutely not,’ Sophie told her seriously. ‘After all, you never know when the bread you’ve thrown on the water isn’t going to be gobbled up by a nice fat duck—right? Which reminds me…we were talking about your new second-floor apartment.’
Harriet shook her head. ‘No. You were talking about it,’ she told her friend firmly. ‘The builders may have moved out today, but I’m still waiting for the fridge and cooker to be delivered—and they won’t arrive until next week. So this crazy idea of yours that—’
‘Hey—relax! There’s no need to get your knickers in a twist,’ Sophie assured her quickly. ‘Believe me—this guy is really desperate to find somewhere to live. But only for the next six months. So there’d be no problem about getting rid of him. Right?’
‘Why does he want to rent somewhere for only such a short time?’
‘Because he’s already bought himself a large apartment in Holland Park. Unfortunately, he can’t live there at the moment. Not until he’s got rid of the builders who are currently tearing the place apart.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Come on, Harriet! You know what it’s like trying to convert a flat…dust and mess everywhere. So it’s not surprising the poor guy needs to rent another flat while all that work is going on.’
Harriet gave a reluctant nod of agreement.
‘Of course, once it’s finished, his apartment will be absolutely fabulous!’ Sophie told her enthusiastically, waving her glass airily in the air, quite oblivious of the fact that she was spilling champagne over the expensive smart Armani suit of the man standing next to her. ‘A huge penthouse…enormous-sized rooms…terrific view…security like you wouldn’t believe, et cetera, et cetera. And—since I’d have been so helpful in finding him temporary accommodation—if he ever decided to sell it, he’d be bound to ask me to deal with the sale, wouldn’t he?’
‘Has your boss put you up to this?’ Harriet asked her sternly.
Sophie shook her head. ‘Absolutely not. He’s gone away on holiday for a few days, and has left me in charge.’
‘More fool him!’ Harriet muttered under her breath. Sophie was her oldest and dearest friend. But anyone willing to risk his business by leaving her in charge of anything—even a photocopier—clearly needed his head examined.
‘OK, I’ve got the picture,’ she told her friend. ‘But why pick on me?’
‘Because the arrangement’s going to suit the three of us down to the ground,’ Sophie told her bluntly. ‘He needs a place to rent. You have just finished doing up that second-floor apartment, of yours. And as for me…well, living down in your basement, I get to see the man of my dreams every day.’
‘I’ll admit it all sounds fine—as far as you and this man are concerned,’ Harriet agreed grimly. ‘I just can’t see why I should have to go along with this crazy scenario.’
‘Because he’s willing to pay a really huge amount of lovely money to rent your apartment. And there’d be absolutely no problem about getting rid of him in six months’ time,’ the other girl told her with an encouraging smile. ‘Quite honestly—it really is the perfect arrangement for all three of us!’
‘Hmm…’ Harriet murmured sceptically. She very much doubted whether Sophie—who changed her boyfriends almost as fast as she changed her clothes—would be likely to stay interested in this guy, however sexy he might be, for as long as six months.
On the other hand, her old friend was quite right. It would suit her down to the ground to have a tenant straight away. Especially since, having budgeted as best she could, the bills for doing up her house in Lansdowne Gardens were becoming astronomical. Not to mention the enormous amount of hassle from her parents, who’d both thoroughly disapproved of her plans of converting the large, derelict house which had so unexpectedly been left to her by her great-aunt Jane.
‘Think of a number—and then double it,’ had been her father’s grim warning. And, while she’d have died rather than admit the truth, he’d unfortunately been quite right. So, maybe immediately finding a tenant for her newly designed second-floor apartment might not be such a bad idea, after all?
Besides, if this man was really as rich and as desperate for a roof over his head as Sophie seemed to think he was, she might be able to charge a high rent for the next six months. All of which would help her depleted finances more than somewhat.
‘Well…I might be prepared to consider this man,’ Harriet told her friend. ‘But I’m going to need some very good references—and an iron-clad contract.’
‘No problem,’ Sophie assured her quickly. ‘I can guarantee to arrange a good contract for you. And, as far as I can see, references won’t be a problem, since this guy seems to know practically everyone.’
‘So do most con men!’ Harriet murmured dryly. ‘By the way—what’s his name? And what does he do for a living?’
Sophie shrugged. ‘I did take his card—but I seem to have left it at home. To be truthful—’ she grinned ‘—I was so gobsmacked when he strolled into the office today that it took me some time to come down to earth! But I know he’s something to do with this film company.’ She waved her hand around the room. ‘So I guess that he’s probably some sort of producer.’
Harriet shrugged. ‘OK, I’m willing to meet him. But I’m not promising anything,’ she added warningly as Sophie gave her a wide, beaming smile. ‘And if he turns out to be a scriptwriter—you can forget the whole idea. Because absolutely the last thing I need is someone who works from home, cluttering up the house all day.’
‘I’m