Page 148 of Gold Diggers

Erin laughed to herself. ‘It’s not just the book, though,’ she said. ‘That building in South London. The one I bought? I found out this morning that I’ve got planning permission and I need to get started on work right away.’

‘Spoken like a tycoon in the making,’ he smiled, taking a sip of the deep orange liquid.

A tycoon, thought Erin. Suddenly she felt scared and exposed. She had no job, an empty building, and three-quarters of a book to write before Christmas. Only a few weeks before, the future had seemed full of promise; now it was so uncertain.

‘Oh God, Adam, what do I do now?’ she said.

Adam laughed. ‘You’ll be fine,’ he said, lifting his glass in toast. ‘Believe me, you’ll be more than fine. But if you will allow me to make one request, as your outgoing boss,’ he said, looking out of the window as the car stopped at the junction with Trafalgar Square. ‘There’s a very nice guy about to pull up next to us on a bicycle, and I think he could do with some company home.’

Erin turned to see Chris was drawing level with the Maybach on the inside lane.

‘You know me better than I know myself,’ she grinned as the car window purred down.

‘Pull over!’ she shouted to Chris above the noise of the traffic. ‘I’m taking you for dinner!’

Erin got out of the car as Chris pulled his bicycle onto the pavement. The Maybach tooted its horn as it drove off around Trafalgar Square.

‘Dinner? You can’t afford me,’ he smiled as they stood together under the flashing lights of a theatre. Has Chris always been this good looking? she asked herself as she suddenly felt her heart flutter. She felt contented and comfortable next to him, and realized that, over the past six months, it was moments like this, when it was just the two of them together, that she had felt most happy.

‘That car suited you,’ he said softly.

‘Nah. It’s not my style,’ she smiled, touching her fingertips ever so gently against his.

‘What is your style?’ he said, moving closer so their faces were only inches apart.

‘Someone like you,’ she said. He moved in to kiss her but she put a hand against his chest.

‘Not so fast,’ she said. ‘What about the redhead?’

‘What redhead?’ asked Chris, pulling away.

‘The pretty redhead I saw coming out of your flat.’

‘Oh, you mean Jenny,’ he replied, a little embarrassed. ‘Poor girl hasn’t heard from me for a couple of weeks now.’

‘Oh yes, lover boy?’ teased Erin. ‘And why not?’

He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t fair to date someone when I’m in love with you.’

His lips touched hers in a featherweight kiss that felt as sweet and delicate as a flower petal. When they finally uncoiled from each other, Chris picked up his bike and started pushing it with one hand, his other laced between Erin’s fingers. Trafalgar Square was lit up like a fairground, thought Erin, the illuminated frontage of the National Gallery spilling a soft buttery light onto the puddles. She didn’t want to go home; she wanted to savour the moment forever.

‘I’ve given my notice in to Adam.’

Chris gave an incredulous laugh. ‘Well, it really has been a strange day.’

‘And I have another confession, too. Remember those architect’s drawings you saw in the flat the other day? They weren’t from work, they’re mine. I bought a bit of a building wreck a few months ago to convert into apartments. The mortgage payments have been killing me, but planning permission has come through and I’m starting immediately. I hope I can get a bank loan now I haven’t got a job; oth

erwise I’ll have to sell it.’

‘You’re developing apartments?’ said Chris, nearly dropping his bicycle. ‘What about the book?’

‘I want to do both,’ she said firmly. ‘I know I can do both.’

‘I don’t doubt you for a minute,’ said Chris honestly. ‘But why didn’t you tell me about your building?’

‘I guess I didn’t want to admit to you, to myself, how crazy I was being. I mean, what do I know about developing property? I guess I was seduced by the life at Midas; thought I could do it too.’

He stopped and reached over to stroke back a lock of hair that had fallen in her face. ‘You’re not crazy. Just brave and clever. That’s what I love about you.’