thank God you’re there!’
Sophie, who couldn’t imagine where else she’d be at this time of night, which on reflection made her one of the most tragic twenty-three-year-olds on the planet, pushed her tangled hair from her eyes and frowned.
‘Amber…? Why are you calling me at…’ She glanced at the clock, saw the time and sat up straight, her eyes wide with alarm. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Everything,’ came the tragic response. ‘But we can do this.’
Sophie who was suspicious of the use of the word we asked, ‘What’s happened?’
‘Just listen, don’t talk. You have to be on the flight to Palermo at five-thirty.’
Pretty sure she was the victim of some elaborate hoax—either that or Amber had been drinking—Sophie leaned back, yawned and said, ‘Of course I do.’
Palermo was the clue; she had made the flight arrangements for Amber herself, and the office had been buzzing for days with the news that they had been contacted by Marco Speranza—the Marco Speranza, people kept saying to Sophie, as though she thought she might be likely to mistake him for another Sicilian billionaire.
Obviously, they had not been personally contacted, but the fact that the invitation to tender for a contract to refurbish his ancestral home had been issued by Marco’s own office had been enough to send the entire office into party mode.
Sophie privately called it mass hysteria, and also a little premature. ‘How many others are tendering?’ Her tentative enquiry had been ignored.
‘Something this prestigious could make us,’ Amber had said as she’d gathered her team together to plan a strategy and draw up plans for a refurb that would knock the utterly gorgeous man’s socks off.
Sophie, who was listening, would have loved to dispute the reverential gorgeous and the utterly but she had seen the photo someone had pinned on the notice board and there was no doubt at all that Marco Speranza was almost too good-looking to be real, unless he had been airbrushed to perfection.
The possibility made her feel unaccountably more cheerful.
Having worked her team into a state of hysterical enthusiasm Amber then smiled and promised, ‘We are going to bury the opposition.’
Sophie’s role in the team involved making tea but she had listened and frankly she had doubts, but aware that her place in the scheme of things did not involve giving an opinion she kept her mouth shut.
Sophie slid back under the covers as a sigh of relief echoed down the line. ‘You know, Sophie, when I first saw you I thought…’ Clearly thinking better of being that frank, Amber allowed herself a generous, ‘You’re an asset.’
‘Thank you.’ Now go away; I want to go to sleep.
‘And I really admire your ability to multitask—maybe you could pack while we talk…?’
‘Look, Amber, I’m going back to sleep now. I’ll laugh at the joke tomorrow, and good luck with the Speranza contract.’
‘No, Sophie, this isn’t a joke. I can’t go. This afternoon I—’
‘You had a dentist’s appointment. I know—it’s in the diary.’
‘No, I had some facial injections and a little liposuction on my thighs…at least, that was the idea, but it went wrong. I had a bad reaction to the anaesthetic and they won’t let me go home—they took away my clothes!’ she wailed.
Sophie’s eyes widened at the confession. ‘Relax, Amber, I’ll contact Vincent.’ Amber’s right hand was up to speed and, if you overlooked his penchant for pink shirts, charming.
‘Do you think I haven’t already tried?’ came the shrill response. ‘He’s gone to York! His partner’s mum has had a heart attack and he’s being supportive.’
Sophie, who had been introduced to Vincent’s partner, said, ‘Oh, how terrible. Colin must be—’
‘Forget about Colin,’ Amber yelled, ‘and get packed.’
‘But Sukie or Emma…’ Sophie could hear the doubt in her own voice. The two women she had heard that first day discussing her both looked the part but neither had had an original thought in their lives.
‘Emma is hopeless.’
You noticed! Sophie thought, surprised.
‘And Sukie got dumped by her boyfriend and downed a bottle of Chardonnay to drown her sorrows. She is hanging over the toilet as we speak,’ Amber observed bitterly.
Sophie grimaced and thought, Thanks for the image.
‘And if you say “poor Sukie” I’ll…My world is falling apart—my entire future depends on a girl who wears sensible shoes. No offence…’ She sniffed between sobs.
The fact that Amber could weep made more of an impact on Sophie than either the insult or the apology.
‘You’re serious.’ The realisation sent a rush of fear through her body. ‘You want me to fly to Sicily and sell this to Marco Speranza’s office?’ This was what fairy tales were made of…or was that nightmares? Maybe she was still asleep and any minute she would wake up and laugh.
‘Not his office—him.’
No, she was definitely awake; even her subconscious was not that inventive!
‘I have a meeting with him personally which is why someone representing this firm has to be there. There is no option—we need this commission, Sophie. The credit crunch has been hard on everyone and I’ve had to write off a couple of big debts after the clients went under…’
About to cut her off and say there was just no way she could do this, something in the other woman’s voice made Sophie pause…Oh, my God, she thought, as she realised what anyone who wasn’t a spoilt, indulged rich kid who’d never had to think about money already would have.
This wasn’t just about kudos. Amber was worried about her business’s survival. Sophie was ashamed that she had been so wrapped up in her own concerns, so self-centred, that it hadn’t even crossed her mind to wonder if maybe she wasn’t the only one who had problems.
‘You can’t ask to reschedule a personal meeting with Marco Speranza.’
Sophie, thinking of her father, admitted, ‘No, I can see that.’ No man got to be that rich and powerful without taking a certain amount of deference for granted.
‘If he thinks we’ve insulted him he could ruin my business. I’ve heard he can be utterly ruthless.’ The sound of a sternly muffled sob echoed down the line.
Sophie heard the sob and folded. ‘All right, I’ll do it.’
Half an hour later she arrived at the office and collected the relevant papers and drawings from where Amber had said they’d be. She tucked them into her overnight bag, planning to read them on the flight.
‘The
