by Linda Coles
“Nonsense, Philippa. You have the brains as well as the beauty, the whole package. What are you doing here?”
“I’m just here on a spot of business, really, and thought I’d take a look around. It’s a trendy, cool place now, isn’t it? They’ve done a great job with the whole area.”
“Yes, and it’s a lovely place to work, and you know I do like lovely things.” The two of them laughed lightly. Georgia had always been the dainty one of the two of them, while Philippa had been much less so. Georgia looked at her watch. “Have you got time for a coffee? It would be lovely to hear what you’ve been up to and my boss isn’t due back for another forty-five minutes. So if we’re quick …?”
“I’d love to. You lead the way. But I’m buying!”
The two women headed towards a café in the opposite direction to where Sebastian had gone. Once inside, they sat down in a quiet booth and ordered. Philippa jumped straight in with questions. If Georgia had been sent as a signal to help, she needed to make good use of their few minutes together.
“So tell me what you’re doing now. You obviously work in the Sebast Suites. Who for? Some oil tycoon or fashion house perhaps,” she said excitedly.
Georgia laughed lightly. “I wish it was with someone so exciting but no, just a local businessman, though he is rather gorgeous. I’ve only been there a couple of months so still pretty new and getting used to him.” As an afterthought, she added, “And I wouldn’t mind getting used to him a bit more!” Georgia winked at Philippa.
“Some things don’t change! Have you been there with him yet? I bet you have already. Tell!”
“I wish, but sadly no. In the short time I’ve been there, he hasn’t made any sort of move on me. I’m rather disappointed if the truth be told. And I wish he would. With his reputation with the ladies, I’m beginning to think I’m ugly.”
“Not likely, Georgia. Have you looked in the mirror recently? You’re stunning.”
“Thanks, but he’s made it clear he’s not interested in alone time with me. I’ve been flirting with him, quite outrageously, actually, but nada, nothing. Doomed before we’ve begun.”
“And who is this gorgeous creature you’ve got the hots for? What’s he called?”
“Sebastian, Sebastian Stevens. You’ve probably heard his name recently. He’s been in the news a bit.”
Philippa couldn’t believe her ears. Holy shit! Georgia worked with Sebastian Stevens. Philippa gathered her thoughts quickly. trying not to show her surprise or good luck. “Wow, yes, I think I heard his name recently. A bit of trouble, if I remember rightly?” Stay cool, Philippa.
“You could say that. Since that whole hunting thing, the office has gone bananas with calls and messages from people expressing their disgust. Even a couple of serious threats, would you believe. I’ll be glad when it’s all blown over.”
Philippa took the opportunity and waded in. “Hell, tell me more. How’s he handling it all?”
“He’s not. We all are—the other staff. We’re fielding things, though he’s been in a real shitty mood since it all came out. Imagine what he’d be like if he were privy to most of it. He’d have a heart attack for sure.”
“So where is he now, since you’re here with me?”
“Oh, he’s got a meeting just down the way. Didn’t want to meet in the office. Not sure what it’s about but he’s been pretty cagey about it. Concocting something, I expect.”
“Does he live in the building too? I expect there’s a penthouse at the top.”
“No, he had a place on Blackfriars, overlooking the river, I believe. Never been lucky enough to be invited. Why’d you ask?”
“Oh, no reason. I just figured he might have a place close by, being a rich sexy businessman and all.”
They both laughed like two teenage girls drinking Coke floats. Georgia glanced at her pretty watch again.
“Look, I’ve got to go, but it’s been lovely seeing you.”
“Yes, it has. We shouldn’t leave it so long next time. Why don’t I send you a friend request in the meantime? I’m sure I’ll be back in Manchester pretty soon. We could have drinks and dinner?”
“Great! Let’s do that now, and definitely put me down for a good old night out. I’ll show you the sights.”
As they both stood and walked towards the door, they promised to stay in touch online in the meantime. Philippa kissed Georgia on the cheek.
“It’s been lovely. You go, and I’ll see you soon,” she said. She watched Georgia walk back towards her building, noting a few stares as she passed. She was still one beautiful woman. And she could be the ticket into Sebastian’s life. Or death.
Chapter Forty-Three
What a stroke of luck. Not only seeing Georgia, but finding out she actually worked for Sebastian into the bargain. The gods had lined up for her for sure. She couldn’t have planned it any better. Now she needed to make the most of the opportunity, the relationship, and exploit it where she could.
After Georgia had gone back inside, she’d stayed waiting in the shadows for Sebastian to return from his meeting, being careful not to be seen by her again if she popped back out for some reason. He hadn’t been long behind his PA, and Philippa had studied his face as he approached the building, a man with something on his mind for sure, and she could guess what it was. She’d hung around outside for a few more minutes when he’d gone in, then ventured up to his floor but didn’t attempt to go into the reception area. If she’d been spotted again, it would look too suspicious. There wasn’t much she could achieve after that, but she felt content anyway that she’d seen his place of work and the man himself. Knowing that all the pictures of him online seemed to be with dark-haired women, she wasn’t surprised that Georgia hadn’t got anywhere in her quest to sleep with him: the beautiful blonde simply wasn’t his type.
Searching the images online had paid dividends. His snazzy Aston Martin, pictured in a few of the photos, had conveniently showed the registration plate and that meant getting his actual address in Spinningfields was not going to be a problem at all. She took the lift back downstairs to the lobby and out into the warm sunshine of the early summer’s day, then headed out on foot, towards the post office to put another piece of the puzzle together. The teller had been most helpful with the address, and once she had what she needed she set off again. Thoughts of how best to get into his physical life ran through her mind as she walked and she realised she hadn’t got nearly enough intel on the man to do so yet. She stopped at a bench and dug her phone out of her bag. If she was going to use Georgia’s help, she may as well start now. And that meant keeping in touch with Georgia. Pulling up the Messenger app, she tapped her message:
Fancy meeting you today! What a lovely surprise! I’ll message you later to chat more. Enjoy your afternoon. Bye!
Send.
A few seconds later, Georgia sent a smiling emoji as a reply.
But she had work to do before she could head back home so she headed for a taxi rank up ahead and slipped inside the back of a waiting car.
“Blackfriars Street, please,” she told the driver, and settled back for the short drive, watching the sites of trendy Manchester as he manoeuvred them through lunchtime traffic. Her stomach rumbled; she’d have to grab something once she’d seen inside his building and was safely on her way back down south.
“Here you go, Miss,” said the cabbie, turning onto his street. “What number do you want?”
“I’m not sure, actually. Deansgate end, and I’ll figure it out from there.” She knew exactly where she needed but wanted to approach the building from a little further away than directly outside.
“Right you are,” he said, and pulled over outside an Italian restaurant close by. As she opened her door, the smell of warm buttery garlic and herbs assaulted her nose and reminded her stomach it needed refuelling before too much longer. She paid the driver and stepped out into the street. As he pulled away, she took in her surroundings and headed to the address the post office had g
iven her, the only building that bore his style of luxury. It would have been obvious, really, where he lived on the street. She checked her piece of paper with the apartment number on it and stopped outside, looking through the glass doors to the inside of her second lobby of the day.
“Here it is,” she said under her breath, and tried the door, which, to her surprise, opened easily. A woman in a maid uniform pushing a small cleaning trolley startled her from the left side as she entered.
“Good morning,” the woman said. She had an Eastern European accent, though from which exact country Philippa had no idea. The name printed on the lanyard hanging around her neck read ‘Daniela,’ and Philippa suspected she was originally from somewhere in the Czech Republic, possibly a generation or so ago.
“Hello. Good morning.” She stammered slightly at being caught out by the young woman who she now knew to be Daniela.
“Are you looking for someone? Can I be assistance?’ She was smiling and looked friendly enough, so Philippa took her chance.
“I’m actually here to see Sebastian, but I’ve just realised I don’t know what his apartment number is, but no bother. I will give him a call,” she lied. She pulled her phone out as if she was about to do so.
“Ah, Sebastian. No, don’t bother him. He’s up on the top floor, of course, but he’s not at home. I’m sorry. Can you come back later?”
“Oh dear.” Philippa feigned disappointment. “I must have got mixed up. Now I’ll be in bother.”
“He’ll be in his office at this hour. Do you know where that is? I can tell you if you don’t. It’s not far.”
“That’s okay, thanks. I know where it is. He must have said his office rather than his home. Silly me. I bet he left here hours ago.”
“Yes. He leaves early, around seven am. I know because I clean his apartment first each day, which pleases me to start early. I can then get back for my little one when I have finished everyone else.” She smiled at the thought of her child. “Oh, listen at me. Sorry, you’re not interested in all that. Forgive me. I don’t have many people to talk to all day,” the woman said, smiling and wafting her hand at herself dismissingly.
“No need to apologise. I understand. It’s me that’s in the wrong place at the right time. I’m the silly one!” Philippa said, laughing lightly at her ‘mistake.’ The other woman smiled along with her.
“Well, since you’re here, is there something I can leave for Mr. Sebastian perhaps?”
“No, but thanks. I’ll head over to his office now and put my mistake straight. You’ve been helpful. Thank you,” she said, and turned to open the big glass door again.
“You’re welcome,” the woman said after her as Philippa headed back out onto the street, not daring to look back in case the woman was watching her. Bumping into the woman had been helpful in more ways than one. She now knew what time he left for work each day as well as who did his cleaning daily. She wondered if Daniela’s lanyard contained a master swipe card to get into all the apartments. If she cleaned each of them every day, she was never going to have separate physical keys for each individual apartment, not in this day and age. Or maybe there were keypads on the doors requiring codes? Until she could gain access to the interior for herself, she’d have to assume it was swipe card access. A plan formed in her brain. Could it be that simple? Could that be it? All she had to do was get that swipe card and a uniform like Daniela’s and turn up early one morning. She let the idea percolate.
The smell of cooked garlic hit her again as she got closer to the restaurant. “What the hell. May as well eat here,” she decided, and made her way to one of the small outdoor tables that was partially hidden by a tall pot plant on the pavement. She sat down. From her vantage point, she could clearly see the entrance to the building she’d just been in and watched with interest as a van cruised to a standstill right outside the door. Daniela reappeared, got inside, and the van drove off.
“How convenient,” she mused. The van was emblazoned with the words “Maids of Honour, Domestic Solutions.” Another piece of the plan had just fallen into place. Today was obviously her very, very lucky day. As the waiter approached her table, she ordered a glass of red wine and a chef’s special pizza, figuring she deserved every last bit of it.
Chapter Forty-Four
She was exhausted by the time she’d got back home. Investigating someone quietly was not something she was used to doing and all the travelling, the lack of sleep the previous night and the hanging around watching and waiting had taken its toll on her, mentally as well as physically. Turning her key in the front door, she welcomed kicking her shoes off as she stepped inside, the coolness of the hallway floor instant therapy to her throbbing feet. She splayed and wiggled her toes and groaned with pleasure before shutting the door behind her and padding towards the lounge, where she slung her bag on the floor and collapsed on the sofa.
“I’m knackered,” she declared to the wall. Blowing a heavy sigh out through her mouth, she sat for a minute or two, head back, eyes closed. The room was deathly quiet; not a sound could be heard. Just the way she liked it. Sometimes she found the quiet too loud, with nothing and no one to break it, but on a day such as this, it was perfect. Her phone buzzed with an incoming notification and she opened one eye, deciding whether to see who it was or ignore it. Her inquisitiveness got the better of her and she sat back up to grab her bag and retrieve her phone. Philippa smiled. It was a message from Georgia.
Lovely to see you today. Such a surprise! We’ve so much to catch up on and you mentioned you would be back up soon, so let me know when and we can go out for dinner. My treat!
Philippa smiled: such a spot of good luck seeing her old friend had been, and so useful in her mission. She tapped her message back and hit reply.
I know, how lovely! And I must say you still look as gorgeous as ever! And yes to dinner, though we will argue about the bill at the time. How was your gorgeous boss this afternoon? In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. May as well start the conversation in the required direction.
Oh, you know, still sexy as all hell but a grumpy bugger. I’ll forgive him, though, if he relents and takes me up on my offer! Whoever he met with for coffee riled him up a bit and he was in a foul mood all afternoon.
Philippa wondered if his meeting had been anything to do with his speech and video debacle from the other night. Anything to do with his speech, do you think, or has that died down a bit?
She waited while Georgia replied, the little dots on the screen telling her she was busily tapping a reply back.
I suspect it was, though I know he really pissed a licensee off just before he went off on his little trip. Pulled the license from him and left him high and dry. Sure knows how to make an enemy or two at the moment.
Philippa looked at her response thoughtfully before tapping a message back. Seems he has a bit of shit to clear up all round. Maybe you should offer him a massage to calm him down. She picked a blushing emoji, added it on the end and hit reply. The three little dots came back and she waited.
Need to be a brunette for that, I reckon, and according to the gossip at work, he likes the submissive types in the bedroom and that’s not me. I might look girl next door but I like to be in control, remember?
Philippa smiled at that, remembering back to a time at university when Georgia had dressed up as a dominatrix for a fancy-dress party and had had no end of offers, one of which she’d taken up. Scared the poor bloke half to death apparently.
My god, I remember that! I remember the poor bloke you left with, too. Did he ever recover from his ordeal, do you think?
He could have used the safe word … But yes, he was fine. Took him a couple of days though. I wonder whatever happened to him? He left that year to go on to some training placement. Actually quite liked him.
So are you going to dye your hair and be a good girl in your quest for the hunk, or move on to someone else who would welcome the gorgeous Georgia? Has boss man got a girlfriend, do you know?
<
br /> Definitely single, and doesn’t mind paying for what he wants, apparently. And no, I suit blonde much better. Probably not the brightest thing to do anyway. Imagine work the next day!
I wonder which escort agency he uses. How interesting!
There was a pause at Georgia’s end. Then, That’s a funny thing to wonder about.
Ah, just intrigues me, that’s all. Ever been inside a brothel?
Can’t say that I have, no, but I should imagine they’re a bit yuk! Why, have you?
No, me neither. But I can see why some men use them, particularly the wealthier ones. Like ordering off a pizza menu. If you’re paying, you order exactly what you want, toppings and all, and if they don’t supply it, you go elsewhere.
Georgia replied with a handful of laughing emojis.
Never thought of it like that. I must ask him!
As your vet, I would strongly advise against that! Philippa replied with her own laughing emoji.
It was fun chatting with Georgia on her phone and Philippa felt a little bit guilty that she was using her good nature to get intel on the man she worked for, but she was on a mission now, and any snippet of information could prove useful to her down the line. But it was also getting late and she needed food.
Anyway, it’s been lovely chatting, and let’s do keep in touch. If you do get it on with your hunk, spill! I need to have a shower and get something to eat. Speak soon?
You bet! If it goes off, I’ll let you know. Georgia ended with another emoji, one with a halo around its head.
Philippa laughed to herself and sent a couple of kisses back with Night, night, then sat back in her chair to think for a moment.
“Needs must Philippa, needs must.”
She headed upstairs and turned the shower on. She slipped out of her clothing, grimy from a day’s travelling, and ventured under the water. She turned the heat on a little more. Warm jets rained down on her, the water creating teardrops on the glass doors. It had been an eventful yet tiring day, and she slowly lathered herself in foaming soap, thinking back to her meeting with Daniela the cleaning lady and the conversation she’d just had with Georgia about working girls. Truth be told, she could probably pull off either scenario. If she went the call-girl route, she’d have to know when he was expecting a woman. She couldn’t just turn up and expect to gain entry. No, if that was the route she chose, she’d need some technical know-how to get into his computer and follow his keystrokes to see who and when he booked someone, then intercept the visit so they didn’t both turn up at the same time. Either route had its own risks; she just had to decide which was the better plan and make it happen. Cleaner or hooker? Cleaner or hooker? By the time she’d finished her shower, she knew which way to go and who might just be able to help.
