Falling For The Secret Millionaire. Kate Hardy

if you want.

      That’d be great. I’ll take you up on that, if the figures stack up and I decide to go ahead with getting the business back up and running.

      Although Nicole had told herself she’d only do it if the figures worked out, she knew it was a fib. She’d fallen in love with the building and for the first time in years she was excited at the idea of starting work on something. Clarence obviously lived in Surrey Quays, or he wouldn’t be part of the forum; so he’d see the boards come down from the front of the Electric Palace or hear about the renovations from some other eagle-eyed person on the Surrey Quays website. She really ought to tell him before it started happening. After all, he was her friend. And he’d said that he had experience in the entertainment and service industry, so he might have some great ideas for getting the cinema up and running again. He’d already made her think about having a survey done, which wouldn’t have occurred to her—she’d just intended to find three builders with good reputations and would pick the middle quote of the three.

      But, even as she started to type her news, something held her back.

      And she knew what it was. Jeff’s betrayal had broken her trust. Although she felt she knew Clarence well, and he was the only person she’d even consider talking to about this apart from her mum and best friend, she found herself halting instead of typing a flurry of excited words about her plans.

      Maybe it was better to wait to tell him about it until she’d got all her ducks in a row and knew exactly what she was doing.

      What’s stopping you going ahead? he asked.

      I need to work out the figures first. See if it’s viable.

      So your mum said the same as I did—that it’ll get you out of the job you hate?

      Yes, she admitted.

      Good—and you’re listening to both of us?

      I’m listening, she said. But it’s still early days, Clarence. I don’t want to talk about it too much right now—

      She couldn’t tell him that she didn’t trust him. That would mean explaining about Jeff, and she still cringed when she thought about it. How she’d been blithely unaware of the real reason Jeff had asked her to live with him, until she’d overheard that conversation in the toilets. One of the women touching up her make-up by the mirror had said how her boyfriend was actually living with someone else right then but didn’t love her—he was only living with the other woman because his boss wasn’t prepared to give the promotion to someone who wasn’t settled down, and he was going to leave her as soon as he got the promotion.

      Nicole had winced in sympathy with the poor, deluded woman who thought everything was fine, and also wanted to point out to the woman bragging about her fickle lover that, if he was prepared to cheat on his live-in girlfriend with her, there was a very strong chance he’d do exactly the same thing to her with someone else at some point in the future.

      The woman had continued, ‘She’s a right cold fish, Jeff says. A boring banker. But Jeff says he really, really loves me. He’s even bought me an engagement ring—look.’

      There were encouraging coos from her friends; but Nicole had found herself going cold. Jeff wasn’t exactly a common name. Even if it were how many men called Jeff were living with a girlfriend who was a banker? Surely it couldn’t be…? But when the woman had gone on to describe cheating, lying Jeff, Nicole had realised with devastating clarity that the poor, deluded woman she’d felt sorry for was none other than herself.

      She shook herself. That was all baggage that she needed to jettison. And right now Clarence was waiting for her reply.

      She continued typing.

      In case I jinx it. The building’s going to need a lot of work doing to it. I don’t mean to be offensive and shut you out.

      It is what it is, he said. No offence taken. And when you do want to talk about it, Georgy, I’m here.

      I know, Clarence. And I appreciate it.

      She appreciated the fact he kept things light in the rest of their conversation, too.

      Goodnight, Georgy. Sweet dreams.

      You, too, Clarence.