Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
‘Hey, have you seen your new man again?’ I ask. Apparently their first date went well, and there have been two further dates since, though she’s being sketchy with the details.
‘I’ll tell you about it tonight.’
‘I might not make it tonight. I have the gallery opening, remember. Tell me now. You’ve not even shared his name.’
‘Can’t you slip off early?’
‘I don’t want to be rude, Lizzy.’ I tip some bubbles into the tub, pushing the guilt away for lying to her. Lying. I’m getting way too good at it, and it’s not a quality that I’m proud of. ‘If I can, I’ll call you.’
‘Okay,’ she relents on a drawn-out sigh. ‘Have a good evening at your fancy gallery opening.’
‘Will do,’ I confirm, my guilt now being pushed aside by excitement. I get to spend some time with Jack after the gallery opening. I just have to keep myself together while we’re actually at the gallery. But as soon as we’re out of there, the gloves are off. As well as his clothes.
I hang up, toss my phone to the side and start to strip down, frowning when I realise Lizzy avoided my question of a name again. I make a mental note to call her tomorrow and get one.
I lower myself into the water but I can’t get comfy. The hardness of the tub on my back when I recline annoys me. I shift and move, trying to find a comfortable position, wondering what gives. When one of the diamonds in my bracelet catches one of the spotlights above and sparkles brightly, I realise what’s wrong. I sigh, fondling the charms thoughtfully, shifting and wriggling in the tub. It’s no good. I have no Jack to lie on. Baths will never be the same again. I give up on my relaxing soak and take a shower instead.
I stand at the end of the driveway that leads to Colin’s gallery staring up at my new creation, feeling an immense sense of pride. It’s just about perfect, and though it looks shiny new after the renovations, it doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb as was argued by the local authorities on numerous occasions.
I make my way up the drive armed with a bottle of bubbly and wander through the open door. The impressive entrance has spectacular art displayed at every turn.
‘Annie!’ Colin appears and seizes me as I laugh.
‘Hi!’ I let him squeeze me before handing him his champagne.
‘You shouldn’t have.’ He hauls me through to the huge extension at the rear. ‘Just look at it,’ he marvels, gazing up towards the roof. ‘Isn’t it the most spectacular thing you’ve ever seen?’
‘Wonderful,’ I admit, absorbing it for a few moments before taking in the people dotted around in small crowds; some admiring the art, some the building, and some just chatting and sipping fizz. I don’t see Jack, but I spot Richard. He notices me and raises his glass.
‘Here.’ Colin swoops a flute off the tray of a passing waiter and places it in my hand. ‘Have a drink, mingle, and listen to everyone sing your praises.’ He motions to the outside space through the bifold doors. ‘There’s a wealth of people waiting to meet the woman who designed the new home for my masterpieces.’
I actually blush a little, walking out into the minimal garden, where crowds of people are gathered drinking and chatting. But still no Jack. I see the glass cases that Jack suggested, three of them hanging proudly on the brick wall, housing three pieces of Colin’s extraordinary art. ‘Are you hungry?’ Colin asks, indicating a huge table with a buffet laid out. ‘Help yourself if you’re peckish.’
‘Thanks, Colin.’ I forgo the food in favour of my champagne. ‘I’ll grab something soon.’
‘As you wish.’ Colin leads me over to a group of people standing around a tall table.
‘Hi,’ I say, shaking every hand that’s offered to me.
‘Annie, this is Rick.’ Colin introduces me to a stocky man with grey hair and an impressive moustache. ‘I know you’re technically off duty tonight, but he’d love to talk to you about a property he’s thinking of buying.’
Rick smiles brightly at me. ‘Annie, pleasure to meet you.’ His shake is solid; his huge sausage fingers completely wrap around my hand.
‘Pleasure, Rick. Tell me about this property.’
‘It’s a historical building. Protected.’ He almost grumbles, clearly not impressed by that. ‘Off Grosvenor Square. What can I do with it?’
I laugh. ‘Not a lot. Is it derelict?’
‘Completely.’
‘Renovations will be welcome, but English Heritage will be watching like a hawk. Materials will be specified, demolition a total no-go, and specialist tradesmen will need to be drafted in.’
‘What are you saying?’ Rick asks, looking rather displeased.
‘I’m saying it’ll cost you an arm and a leg. But you might be eligible for a grant from English Heritage to help with the financial burden. It’s worth looking into.’