swung round with wide blue eyes. “You have to be kidding. For this dump?”
“It’s not a dump in the real estate world,” Josie pointed out firmly. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment overlooking Manly Beach. A similar property sold at auction this last weekend for five hundred and seventy thousand.”
“I’ll bet it wasn’t in this condition.”
“No, of course not. Which is where we come in.”
“But you said the auction’s a week from Saturday. That hardly gives us much time. Less than two weeks…”
“It’s more than enough time,” Josie insisted. “And it’s not as though we haven’t done several similar jobs before. We have.” Property Presentation Perfect specialized in this kind of makeover.
Which was what Josie had told the real estate agent on Saturday, backing up her claims with PPP’s photographic portfolio of before and after shots. When he’d still looked doubtful, Josie had made him an offer any astute businessman could not refuse.
“If there’s no sale at the upcoming auction, there’s no fee. If the sale goes through, PPP gets a flat fee of five thousand dollars plus ten percent of the amount achieved over and above the reserve.”
Josie wouldn’t normally have offered such generous terms, but PPP was going through a bit of a slump during their second year of business. Which was one of the reasons she’d had their Web site revamped. Competition for the renovation dollar was very high in Sydney at the moment. With the proliferation of do-it-yourself shows on television, a lot of people now did their renovations themselves, rather than call in professionals.
Till business hopefully picked up again, Josie had started canvassing for work the old-fashioned way, calling on real estate agents face-to-face. She’d started with the major agencies on Sydney’s lucrative North Shore, on the assumption that each was sure to have a wealthy client or two off-loading run-down rentals which could do with a facelift. So far, however, she’d only found this one Realtor willing to give PPP a try. But he’d said if the idea worked out, he would be happy to recommend her to other clients and industry contacts.
“We need to make a success of this,” Josie told Kay. “Otherwise, you might have to find a job elsewhere and I’ll have to go back to working for Dad.”
Kay gasped. “Lord. The pressure! Well, it’ll certainly be a challenge,” she added wryly. “This décor is ancient. The tiles in the bathroom are pink and gray, for pity’s sake. As for this kitchen…” She waved a disparaging hand around the dingy and outdated layout. “It’s fit for the scrap heap.”
“Not after you’ve waved your magic wand,” Josie encouraged. The things Kay could achieve with a paintbrush were limitless. “With the right color scheme and furniture, this place will look like a million dollars.”
Kay laughed. “Who’s the optimist now?”
Josie shrugged. “No point in being otherwise. You said as much yourself. So stop being so negative!”
“Aye aye, Captain Courageous. But just remember, we have less than two weeks to achieve this miracle, meaning we have no chance of hiring our usual tradesmen. They’re booked up weeks in advance.”
“No worries,” Josie countered blithely. “We can’t afford too many tradesmen on this occasion, anyway. We’ll have to do most of the work ourselves. Our budget will just stretch to an electrician and a plumber, and the agent said we could use his. They’re on permanent standby to repair all his agency’s rentals. Otherwise, it’s just you and me, baby,” Josie said, linking arms with Kay and grinning down into her co-worker’s pained face.
Kay looked up at her much taller boss and laughed. “Like I said, you certainly weren’t in love with Angus. But speaking of that devil, what have you decided to do about next Saturday night? I mean…you haven’t got anyone to take to your class reunion now, have you?”
THE INSTANT and very intense dismay which claimed Josie’s face made Kay realize her boss had forgotten all about her class reunion. Which showed that underneath her boss’s let’s-get-on-with-life facade this morning, she was really quite upset.
Kay’s heart went out to her. She knew how much Josie had been looking forward to taking Angus to her ten-year class reunion. And she knew the reason why.
The last—and only other time—Josie had gone to a class reunion had been five years back, shortly after her marriage had broken up.
She’d confided to Kay how awful she’d looked—and felt—that night; like a total failure in the face of her other classmates’ seeming successes, especially this one girl, Amber, who’d made a grand entrance at the party on the arm of her communication tycoon fiancé.
Apparently, this Amber had been Josie’s nemesis at school, a snooty-nosed golden-haired rich bitch who never let a chance go by to make Josie feel like an inferior species. Given that Amber was hosting this year’s bash at her harborside mansion—she was now married to said tycoon—Kay could well understand Josie’s distress.
“I don’t suppose you could go alone again, could you?” she said without much hope of that happening. Yet really, Josie shouldn’t think she was a failure without a man on her arm. She ran her own business, for heaven’s sake.
Josie’s face showed horror at the suggestion. “I’d rather be thrown to the lions, because that’s exactly what it would be like. Being thrown to the lions. Or the lioness, to be precise.”
“You mean because of Amber, I suppose, the esteemed hostess of this masochistic do. You know, I used to work with someone like her. She hated my guts, mostly because I was a better interior decorator than she was. I dare say the same thing applies here, Josie. Your society princess felt threatened by you at school. You made her feel inferior, not the other way around. She saw you as competition.”
“Who, me? I can’t see how. Trust me when I say Amber Sinclair didn’t have any competition at school. Besides being the best-looking and most popular girl in our class, she was smart. The girl has brains, Kay. She’s not just some blond bimbo. The only thing I ever beat her at was math. But she beat me in every other subject. I can’t understand why I got up her nose so much. I really can’t.”
“Try looking in the mirror sometime, then.”
“But I wasn’t at all good-looking at school, Kay. Honest. I was gawky back then. Too tall and too thin, with a flat chest and far too big a mouth.” In every way, Josie recalled ruefully.
She’d had a tendency to speak her mind more than the average teenager, a consequence of being the only child of intelligent and loving parents. She’d joined in adult conversations since she was quite young and had been encouraged to have opinions.
Having opinions, however, guaranteed to make you an outsider at the rather old-fashioned all-girls’ school to which she’d won a scholarship. You got along much better if you were a docile little sheep, or the beautiful and brilliant daughter of a billionaire banker who’d donated a million dollars for the new science wing.
“Well, you’ve certainly grown into your looks now, girl,” Kay said, looking her boss up and down. “And your figure.” Josie was that rare creature, a natural beauty who would look good first thing in the morning or straight out of the shower, without any artificial adornment. Her long straight black
