serious exposure for I Do, I Do, I Do.’
Nicole used a finger to smooth her hair back out of her face as she pulled her desk chair out and sat down. ‘We’re going to drive ourselves mad if we keep comparing Hopes & Dreams to them. I think we ought to have a Celeste-and-Minty jar in the office.’
Confusion crumpled Peggy’s features. ‘What?’
‘Like a swear jar,’ Nicole explained. ‘Every time we mention them or their agency, we have to put a pound in the pot. It’s about time we stopped focusing our energy on how well they’re doing and concentrate on our own success. We’ve had another two yeses since we saw them at the Hamilton last week.’
Peggy nodded, grudgingly. ‘I suppose you’re right.’ She tipped her collection of fluffy pens out of a polka-dotted tin that said ‘You don’t have to be a goddess to work here, but it helps’ on the side and plonked it on Nicole’s desk. ‘Here…and I vote we spend the proceeds on cocktails, to drown our sorrows when Detest and Squinty schmooze all the high-profile clients in London into their clutches.’
Nicole picked the pot up and held it in her direction, raising her eyebrows.
‘What?’ Peggy said. ‘I didn’t actually use their proper names…’
Nicole waggled the pot.
Peggy flounced over and dropped a coin in the bottom. ‘Fine.’
‘It still counts. We need some positive energy around here. I’ve spent my whole life trying to compete with girls like that, and I’ve decided I can’t be bothered with it any more. And you know why? Because we’re good. We’re really good. So the big-ticket clients will come. We’ve worked too hard for them not to. We deserve them, and I believe people sow what they reap. We don’t have to stress about those two—’ She noticed the tin in her hand, broke off and smiled serenely. ‘We don’t have to stress,’ she said again. ‘It’ll all work out.’
Peggy stopped looking quite so affronted and a naughty twinkle appeared in her eye. ‘You really think so?’
Nicole ignored the little wobble in her tummy at that thought of her much-loved company, the one she’d invested all her time and energy and even more of her money in, going down the drain. ‘I certainly do,’ she said, faking total and complete calmness. She was ninety per cent there. Fudging the final ten per cent really wasn’t lying.
And she was also sure she’d conquer this childish urge to push Celeste’s and Minty’s faces into the ground and stand triumphantly over them while they tasted the mud of defeat. She was talking the talk, doing her best to walk the walk. If she persevered, eventually her wayward thoughts would have to get into line with the rest of her. This was the method she’d used in upgrading the rest of her life, and she was sure it would work here too.
‘We’ll be okay in the end if we work hard,’ she told her business partner, most seriously. ‘We just mustn’t lose heart.’
Peggy snorted, but as she flumped into her office chair she looked a little less stressed. ‘You sound almost religious about it.’
‘Well, it is in the Bible, that sowing and reaping thing. Why shouldn’t we get rewarded for all our effort, while…other people…get what they deserve?’
Peggy shook her head. ‘Well, the last bit sounds wonderful to me. I’ve always been a fan of a bit of divine retribution. But are you saying that if we all just pray hard enough, a rich, young—preferably titled—stud is going to crash through that door on his steed and declare, “I want you to plan a proposal for me!”?’
Nicole sent her an angelic smile. ‘I’m sending up a little prayer right now,’ she replied and returned to her internet search for a glass slipper that one of their clients wanted to use as part of his proposal.
Later that afternoon, as the clouds hung heavy across the city, bringing a premature twilight, and the wind bounced itself off the windows at the front of the Hopes & Dreams office, the door crashed open.
Nicole looked up to find a tall, long-legged blonde wrapped stylishly in a cape, her tumbling golden waves teased slightly out of place by the wind. ‘Are you the proposal planners?’ she asked, bracing herself dramatically in the doorway.
Nicole and Peggy shot a look at each other across their desks, looked at their guest and nodded.
‘Then I want you to plan the best proposal ever for me,’ she said, a tinge of desperation in her cut-glass tone. ‘The best one you’ve ever done!’
Peggy mouthed across at Nicole, ‘You know who that is?’
Nicole nodded, ever so slightly, ever so discreetly. Either this was famous-for-being-famous socialite Saffron Wolden-Barnes or her double had just crashed her way into their office.
‘Flipping heck,’ Peggy muttered under her breath and shooting a look heavenwards. ‘It actually worked.’
‘God does indeed move in mysterious ways,’ Nicole mumbled back. In the ten and a half months since Hopes & Dreams had been in business, she’d not once had a woman walk through her door.
Peggy shrugged and added, ‘You prayed for her. You’d better take her.’
Nicole rose and walked towards their new client and held out a hand. ‘Lovely to meet you. I’m Nicole Harrison, founder of Hopes & Dreams Proposal Planning Agency. If it’s something unique you want, you’ve come to the right place.’
The blonde shook her hand back. ‘Saffron,’ she said, exhaling, and nodded towards the door, as Peggy scurried over to close it. ‘Sorry about that. People expect me to make an entrance when I’m out doing public appearances and what have you. Sometimes I just forget to switch it all off.’
‘Why don’t we sit down and talk through some ideas,’ Nicole said smoothly. She led Saffron down the narrow corridor and opened the door to the proposal-planning room.
Once inside she breathed a sigh of relief. Here, at least, she’d been allowed free hand to decorate, and it was an oasis of cream and off-white, clean lines and stripped wood. Black-and-white photos graced the walls and there was just enough room for a low glass coffee table and two oatmeal-coloured armchairs.
As they settled themselves down, Nicole took a closer look at their client. She’d seen pictures of her in Celebrity Life, of course, but had never laid eyes on her in person. That charisma that oozed from the glossy pages of the magazine was not exaggerated. There was something about her that made you want to look at her. Maybe it was the long, tumbling blonde waves. Maybe it was the designer jeans and boots, the way she’d slung her outfit together with a careless sophistication that Nicole had taken years to get down pat. Whatever that elusive X factor was, Saffron Wolden-Barnes had it in spades. It was as if someone had taken all the best bits of all ‘those girls’ Nicole had battled with all her life and rolled them into one perfect package.
A package that they sorely needed, if Nicole’s diminishing bank account was anything to go by. She couldn’t let that faze her, though. Pretending her heart wasn’t pounding a little harder, that this was any other, non-famous, non-make-or-break client, Nicole picked up a large notebook from the coffee table, which was adorned with
