Page 23 of The Reluctant Billionaire

‘So we find his umbrella,’ Aide says, hitting his stride, ‘and we open it up and empty in a whole box of Rice Krispies.’

He’s beaming now, while Gaz has already lost it. He’s bent over double in his chair, shaking with laughter. I giggle.

‘We close it back up and fasten it nice and tight, right,’ Aide says, miming the action, ‘and we leave it. So then, after lunch, we’re all filing outside for rugby and it’s fucking horrible—like,seriously pissing it down—and Gaz and I are just watching. And waiting. And sure enough, Mr Hell puts his umbrella out, all self-important and smug, and opens it.’

He pauses for effect, and the rest of us wait for the punchline. Everyone except Gaz, that is, because he’s still laughing uncontrollably against his thighs.

Aide gestures with his hand. ‘And they go fucking.Everywhere.All over him. All over the ground. He starts screaming, and he kind of shakes out the brolly, and kids start shrieking as they get hit with Rice Krispies. But it’s chucking it down, right? So the ones all over his head and shoulders go instantly soggy.’ He chuckles like he’s recounting his favourite childhood Christmas. ‘And they all stick to him. He’s covered in all these soggy things that look like warts. Hundreds of them. It was, hands down, the best thing I haveeverseen.’

‘Oh my God,’ I say, shuddering and laughing because that is just grim beyond belief. ‘They must have gone down his top, too.’

‘They did,’ Aide agrees cheerily. ‘They wenteverywhere.He had to go and have a shower, and he called his wife to bring in some fresh clothes for him.’

‘Did you guys get caught?’

‘Nope.’ He winks at me conspiratorially, and the earth stills on its axis for a moment. ‘I mean, he knew exactly who it was, but he could never prove anything.’

‘Best prank I’ve ever heard,’ I tell him, earning myself another devastating smile. Let me tell you, when this guy lets go and enjoys himself, it’s truly beautiful.

I wish he’d do it more often.

As if he can read my mind, his smile vanishes, and it’s as instantly chilly as if the sun’s just gone in.

‘I need a quick word.’ He jerks his head towards the building.

‘Okay,’ I say, unfolding myself from my chair. Uh oh. Aide avoids me like the plague, so if he wants to talk to me then he probably has a gripe.

‘Good times, mate, good times,’ a barely recovered Gaz says to him as he passes. Gaz holds out his hand, and they high-five before gripping each other hard.

I follow Aide inside and into the small office next to the kitchen. We’ve made good progress these past couple of days. The main interior already looks airier without that dreadful yellowed pine panelling. The floor in the big hall is wooden and in good shape, so it’s staying. Painting and decorating will make up the bulk of the next week’s labour. We may even finish up early. Weirdly, the thought depresses me, mainly because I won’t be able to oglethisarse when I’m back in my office.

Not that I’ll miss his personality.

‘What’s up?’ I ask as he closes the door behind us.

He burrows under his bundled-up hoodie and thrusts something into my hands that I realise after a second is a small Harrods carrier bag.

‘I got you something and I need you to wear it tomorrow,’ he says. ‘It doesn’t have to be a big deal, so don’t make it one.’

I stare at him, gobsmacked, then down at the bag. ‘Okay,’ I say slowly.

Aide has bought me something to wear.

From Harrods.

My mind is racing. So’s my heart rate. I have no idea what it could be or what I’m supposed to do with this new information.

He nods curtly at the bag. ‘Go on.’

I peek in and see only tissue paper. Carefully, I pull the package out and put the bag on the counter so I can use both hands to unwrap the tissue. It’s really light. I open it.

It’s a bra.

A bra that may be the ugliest, most industrial-level undergarment I’ve ever seen.

I gape at in confusion and then up at him. He’s quiet, those pale blue eyes watchful.

I fling it at him. ‘What the fuck is this?’