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“Right, well, get your arse down here and we’ll find you something special.”

She looked at her computer again, then at the drink she’d made herself, still sitting untouched on the coffee table. “Actually, I think I’m staying in for the night.”

Annabelle laughed.

“No, I mean it,” said Jem. “Have fun.” She hung up.

It took all of two minutes before she received a text.I hope she’s worth it, from Rolly followed by a smiley face. The implication was clear. But Jem ignored it. Ellie was out of play, she had to accept that. Which was probably a good thing, it was hard enough having a job without having to deal with feelings that made her feel… confused.

It had taken a while to figure out what was going on. A good ten minutes had passed after Ellie had left before Jem had realized that actually, she’d never had a problem with women leaving before. She’d always sort of wanted them to leave.

Jem sighed and went back to her list. At least working kept her mind off other things. The only problem now was what to do after she ran out of work. She supposed there were books on the shelves. Not that she’d chosen them for anything other than decoration.

Still, maybe she should give Ellie’s comfortable life a go.

Or maybe she should just focus on getting this party planned, getting her car fixed, and then never thinking about Ellie again.

Chapter Eighteen

Jem arrived ten minutes late and Ellie already had her arms folded in disapproval. “If you can’t get here on time, then don’t bother coming,” she barked.

“I got stuck in traffic,” Jem said.

“More likely hungover and stuck in bed,” Ellie countered. Jem looked frustratingly good for someone who was probably hungover though. Her skin was glowing, her hair was messily perfect, and the dress she wore skimmed every curve in a way that made Ellie feel slightly dizzy.

“Actually, I stayed in and read a book last night,” said Jem primly.

“Right.” Ellie rolled her eyes. “The event co-ordinator is in her office, we’d better go through if you’re ready?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jem looked put out and Ellie wondered for an instant whether she actually had stayed home all evening. But why would someone like Jem do that?

Together they met the event co-ordinator and had a tour of the premises. After which, Ellie was pretty certain that Leigh House was the place they needed. With interior courtyards featuring ponds and water features, terraces that would let guests mingle, and beautiful decorated interior rooms, this was just the location they’d been looking for.

“We do have an extensive wine cellar,” the event co-ordinator, a tall black woman with immaculate make-up, was saying. “Andyou’re welcome to taste what you’d like.” She’d stopped in a small alcove looking out over a courtyard.

“All of this seems very reasonable,” Ellie said, looking at the financial statements she’d been sent.

“Leigh House does like to consider itself a friend of the Darlington family,” smiled the woman.

“The owner went to school with my father,” whispered Jem.

“I see,” said Ellie. How was it that rich people kept saving other rich people money and never passed those savings down to people who could actually use them? But she bit her tongue, she did have a budget here after all.

“I take it that you like what you see?” asked the co-ordinator.

Ellie found herself looking at Jem who was beaming, and then nodding. “We do, as it happens. Although we obviously have a couple of other locations to see.”

“Well, at this point, I like to leave people alone so they can really experience Leigh House and drink in the atmosphere,” said the co-ordinator. “If you don’t have any further questions?”

Ellie shook her head.

“Then feel free to stay here as long as you’d like. I’ll have a member of staff come and offer refreshments and I’ll be in my office if you should need me. It’s been a pleasure.” She shook hands and strode off toward her office.

“Well, left to our own devices,” Jem said, flopping down on the couch in the alcove. “And not a moment too soon, I’m dying for a drink.”

“It’s eleven in the morning,” Ellie said, sitting down beside her but staying on the edge of the sofa and crossing her legs.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere, as they say,” said Jem.