Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
The door swings open, and Leighton falls in, appearing a bit flustered. Shit. Did he see Jude? Ask him questions? Shit, shit, shit. I frantically search my brain for the words I might need to get myself out of this mess.
“Gary,” Leighton puffs, out of breath. He’s run here. “News flash. I’ve got it on in the boardroom.”
Gary’s up like a shot, hotfooting it out of his office. “Can we pick this up?” he calls, following Leighton. “We’ve been waiting for news on a bailout; we’ve got plans riding on it.”
“A bailout? Anything I should know?”
“Not unless you have IDF Telecoms on your radar.”
He’s gone before I can answer. “I don’t,” I murmur.
Fuck it all to hell.
Chapter 18
Gary didn’t emerge from the boardroom for the rest of the day. I walked past a couple of times, and it looked tense in there, all the senior partners huddled around the table with Gary and Leighton, so I didn’t disturb them, cracking on with preparations for my meeting next week with Tilda Spector. I’ll talk to Gary on Monday.
Abbie and Charley were both up for bringing our trip to IKEA forward, so after I’ve collected the keys for my new apartment, I head there to meet them. In my new car. Which, right now, I feel guilty for driving.
I pull up and get two sets of high brows as I step out of the brand-spanking-new F-Type and hit the fob to lock it.
“Wow,” Abbie breathes as I stand before them, me and the car under close scrutiny. It was a novelty driving to work. The parking, not so much. I didn’t realise how much I’ve missed being on the roads. And yet it’s not sustainable; the parking is expensive and the traffic horrendous.
“Are you two done drooling over my new wheels?” I ask, tossing my handbag onto my shoulder and heading to the entrance.
“So what are we shopping for?” Abbie asks, joining me on one side, Charley on the other.
I laugh. “Everything. But let’s start with a bed. Do you think I’ll fit a bed in my car?”
“I came in Lloyd’s wardrobe on wheels,” Charley says, pointing back at his A7 estate. “I knew you’d need a lot, and you could get a whole apartment in the back of that thing. We’ll have a flatpack party at your new place.” She links arms with me. “Lloyd’s taken the kids to his parents for dinner, so I’m all yours.”
“And me.” Abbie nudges me in the side. “Although you won’t be doing much DIY with that. Isn’t it healing?”
I look down at my bandaged hand. “It’s still a bit weepy. It just feels safer covered. I’m scared of knocking it.”
“You should have it checked if you’re worried.”
I nod my agreement and let them flank me into IKEA.
In a convoy of three cars, we drive back to my new place packed to the rafters with home essentials. It was a productive trip and great to spend time with the girls, chatting as we all steered trollies around the store, browsing, throwing things in, discussing the merits of leather versus fabric couches. A headboard? Wood or velvet? King-size or super-king?
Nothing was mentioned about Jude, and I didn’t volunteer anything either. Abbie’s date, however, was a hot topic. She likes him. I can tell. She’s never been on a second date with anyone, and they have one planned for next week.
I let us in through my own personal front door and kick my way through some post, passing the bedroom on the left before emerging into the kitchen that opens up onto the secluded courtyard.
“Oh, I love it,” Abbie says, poking in and out of cupboards.
“Jesus, the height of the ceilings,” Charley breathes, her head craned as she drops a few blue bags in the corner. “It smells like paint.”
I draw the curtains at the bay window in the lounge area. “The landlord recently gave it an overhaul. New kitchen, new bathroom, a lick of paint.” Walking through to the kitchen, I go to the double doors that lead onto the courtyard and push them open. “New patio.”
“Oh, Amelia, it’s perfect.”
“Isn’t it?” I gaze around, totally enchanted. When I viewed it almost two weeks ago, I was not in the best headspace, was finding it hard to appreciate how perfect it was for me when I felt like I was in total turmoil. Now, though, I can see. I’m glad I didn’t let it pass me by.
“I bought supplies.” Abbie magics a bottle of prosecco from her bag. “We can’t build furniture without some fizz.”
“Just a small one for me,” Charley says, producing a toolbox. “I brought supplies too.”
I pout, feeling a little emotional. “What would I do without you two?”
“Sleep in any of the dozens of swanky suites at your stinking-rich boyfriend’s luxury hotel?” Abbie says. “Where is he tonight, anyway?”