The Christmas Project: A laugh-out-loud romance from bestselling author Maxine Morrey. Maxine Morrey

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lights of the Tube station and headed into its underworld to catch my train.

       Chapter Three

      The following morning when I opened my emails, I was a little surprised to find one from my newest client, detailing a whole bunch of times he could free up in order to get his home organised. The brief, impersonal note advised that if I was able to work something out within my schedule to those times, he would appreciate it. If not, then could I let him know and he would take another look at his own diary and see what he could do. Perhaps he did actually mean to take this seriously after all, now that Janey had applied the thumbscrews.

      I opened my calendar and took a look. I could probably manage it, but it was going to mean some serious juggling. The fact that I wished to spend as little time as possible with him wasn’t helping matters.

      ‘How did your appointment go with your friend’s brother last night?’ Bernice trotted in, her face all smiley and open. It was kind of infectious. I’d hired her as an assistant two years ago but she’d been keen to get into the actual business of organisation, so I’d agreed to train her. She’d now been a fully-fledged organiser for the past year and was loving it.

      ‘Ah. Yes. That.’ I pulled a face. ‘Oh thanks! Perfect!’ I said, taking the huge mug of hot chocolate she’d just made.

      Bernice took a sip of her own from a similarly enormous mug and I waited until her face came back into view before continuing.

      ‘Let’s just say he and his sister are quite different.’

      ‘But you’re still planning to take him on?’

      ‘Of course. I promised I would. But I think it’s safe to say it’s not going to be one of my most fun assignments.’

      ‘Difficult?’

      ‘The house isn’t anything worse than I’ve seen before. But Mr O’Farrell himself is…quite something.’

      ‘Sleaze?’

      ‘No! Not at all. Nothing like that. Well, he made no secret of the fact he’s a one-night stand kind of guy, but that’s up to him. But no, he didn’t make me feel uncomfortable like that.’

      ‘So, what is it? Normally you’re fizzing with excitement when you’re about to start with a new client. And today you’re definitely more flat than fizz.’

      ‘He’s just…’

      ‘Oooh, is he gorgeous and you don’t want to get caught in an awkward situation? I know you have this big thing about not mixing business and pleasure.’ Bernice’s big brown eyes widened as her mind went off into areas unknown.

      ‘No. It’s not that either. Although he is gorgeous, which he clearly knows. The only thing I’m worried about is that I might actually kill him and have him buried under the patio of his newly organised home.’

      ‘Oh wow. That bad?’

      ‘That bad. Think big Irish Grinch on a motorbike and you’re pretty much there.’

      ‘Actually sounds kind of yummy. Apart from the Grinch bit, obviously. So when do you start?’ Bernice asked, getting up and wandering over to gaze out of the window at the rain that was now slamming against it.

      I let out a sigh and peered again at my calendar, comparing it to the dates that Michael had sent over early this morning.

      ‘I’m not sure. Trying to find a time when we’re both free is beginning to look like more of an issue than I thought it was going to be. I think I’m going to end up having to see if he can do weekends by the looks of things.’

      ‘Does he specifically want to work with you?’ Bernice asked, coming away from the window to perch on my desk.

      ‘No, he just said that he wanted Stone Organisation rather than anyone else as his sister had recommended us.’ I distractedly flicked over the days of my calendar again, blindly hoping that when I looked at it this time there would magically be some space. I really didn’t want to have to go back to Michael and ask for different dates. I just wanted to get this all done and over with.

      ‘Bring my calendar up.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Get mine up.’ Bernice leaned over and took the mouse from me, making a couple of clicks until her own schedule displayed on my screen in another window. ‘Now, when’s he free?’

      I pulled the email I’d printed off towards me and glanced between the two. Bernice had a space tomorrow that would fit in with Michael.

      ‘There you go. Problem solved.’

      I hesitated.

      ‘What is it?’

      I looked up at her. ‘I feel like I’m fobbing him off on you! I’ve just told you he’s a right royal pain and now I’m dumping him on you.’ For all my thoughts last night about pushing O’Farrell to Bernice, I’d never really intended to lumber her.

      ‘Do you really want to deal with him?’

      ‘Oh God, no!’

      Bernice laughed.

      ‘Sorry. That was a bit too emphatic, wasn’t it?’

      ‘That’s all right. I don’t mind dealing with him. It’s only a short-term thing anyway, isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes. It needs to be done by Christmas so we’ll be shot of him then.’

      ‘It’s settled then. Do you want me to contact him?’

      ‘No. I told him I’d call. I’ll give him a ring now and advise him he’s booked in for twelve tomorrow.’

      ‘I can hardly wait,’ Bernice teased. ‘I’m totally intrigued now.’

      ‘I still feel bad.’

      ‘Don’t. I volunteered and you can’t change your morning appointment tomorrow. That’s your final one with Mrs Clarke. She’d be devastated to not finish up with you.’

      Bernice was right. This particular client had come a long way, physically and emotionally during the process, and the truth was I’d be upset to have to miss it too.

      ‘Thanks Bernice. You’re a lifesaver. It may be for the best anyway. You’ll probably be able to bring out his better side. I’m pretty sure he has one. There was a tiny glimpse of it when he was on the phone to his sister, but it only appears for a few seconds at a time. With me, anyway. But you have that cutesy persona thing going on. It’ll be perfect.’

      ‘I can certainly try.’

      ‘And bonus points if you can avoid calling him an arsehole within a few minutes of meeting him.’

      Bernice was looking at me, her carefully painted Cupid’s bow mouth forming a perfect ‘O’.

      ‘You

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