Cupcakes at Carrington's by Alexandra Brown

Author:Alexandra Brown [Brown, Alexandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780007488230
Publisher: Harper
Published: 2013-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

23

Back on the shop floor and I’ve barely made it to my counter when the wall phone rings. I grab the receiver before glancing at the clock. Roll on home time – today feels like the longest day ever.

‘Women’s Accessories. Georgie Hart speaking,’ I say, trying to sound enthusiastic. I glance over at James’s section but he’s busy with a customer. Then he looks over, catches me watching and quickly flicks his eyes away. My cheeks burn as I study the wall instead.

‘This is Borek … Mr Malikov’s personal assistant. He requests your company this evening at a pre-opera soirée in his suite at the Mulberry Grand Hotel.’

Silence follows.

The Grand. That’s where Nathan took Sam for her birthday, and it’s the best hotel for miles around. But I can’t go and meet Malikov in a hotel suite. It’s crazy. His car is one thing, but a hotel room? No way. And then I realise that Borek is accustomed to people automatically accepting his master’s requests without question.

‘Err, weell,’ I say, hesitantly.

‘You must. Mr Malikov insists you come.’

Oh God, I was hoping to slope off home and comfort-eat my way through a massive pizza polished off with a red velvet or two. Then I remember Maxine’s request that she be informed – maybe she’ll even come with me. It’ll mean having to put up with her pageant smile and bouncy big hair for an evening, but at least I won’t have to go alone. ‘Actually, the last time I met with Mr Malikov he told me my boss would need to be present fo—’ I say, hopefully.

‘Ah,’ he interjects, and then keeps me waiting. I’m sure I can hear Malikov’s voice in the background.

‘Yes, Mr Malikov insists your boss comes too.’ My heart races … the Chiavacci bags, it must be. He’s going to buy them. If I can secure the sale and credit the commission to James, then maybe he’ll forgive me. My mood is instantly lifted.

‘Wonderful, what time should we arrive?’

‘Seven o’clock and the dress is –’ there’s a short pause – ‘cocktail attire,’ he finishes, as if he’s just spotted the dress code description in a book about high-society etiquette.

‘Of course, and thank you,’ I say, before pressing to end the call. I quickly dial Maxine’s extension, praying she can make it at such short notice.

‘Yes?’ she answers, sounding all breathy and seductive, before I’ve barely finished dialling her extension.

‘Maxine, it’s Georgie here.’

‘Oh, I, err, didn’t realise,’ she says, quite obviously hoping it was someone else. Tom, I bet! I clear my throat.

‘You wanted to know about meetings with private customers. Well, I’ve been invited to a drinks soirée this evening,’ I say, wishing he’d given me more notice. There’s a sharp intake of breath followed by a huff that sounds very much like disappointment. So she’s already had enough of being kept informed of everything. Knew she would.

‘Where is it?’ she asks.

‘Err … The Mulberry Grand. In his suite.’ She doesn’t bother to ask who the customer is.

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