Page 10 of Mayfair Madame
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she said, but the flush to her cheeks told a different story.
“You know who I mean.” I grinned, unable to resist teasing her. “Pretty little thing. Penelope or Phoebe? I can’t quite remember.”
Melinda fidgeted in her seat, but a small smile appeared. “It’s Felicity, but they call her Flick.”
“Ah, that’s it. You should ask her out.” I took another bite, flakes of pastry falling down the front of my robe.
Melinda was the most unassuming person I’d ever met. She was a kick-ass assistant but terrible when it came to romance.
She’d been burnt many times, hence her reluctance to put herself out there again. I’d spent many days in this kitchen consoling her as she cried.
“I’m old enough to be her mother.” She swept the crumbs into her hand and put them in the empty box.
“Maybe she’d like that.”
Melinda’s love life was complicated, but I’d not push her. Not today anyway.
“Let me get dressed, and then we’ll start. Pop on up to the office. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
The apartment was generous, split over two floors. Guest bedrooms and my office upstairs. Reception rooms, a kitchen, and my bedroom on this floor.
I threw on some jeans and a T-shirt, my usual when I wasn’t working, and grabbed the torn dress.
Melinda would want to know how last night went. She’d hit the roof when I told her about the assault, but I’d ask her for advice about what I should do.
Press charges or not. That was the question. Would I get away with it, or would that arsehole’s standing as a lord mean it’d come to nothing?
I checked the kitchen, but there were no more treats to be found. Good job, although I could always work out at the gym here in the apartment complex.
Guy was my personal trainer and took far too much pleasure in causing me pain. He was also the object of Oscar’s desire,although Oscar very much denied it. The same as Melinda denied her attraction to Flick.
What was it with my staff?
They needed to get their love lives together. Ironic coming from me. A madame who hadn’t had a relationship in so long I’d forgotten what it was like.
“Oh my God, Naomi. What happened to the dress?” Melinda stood open-mouthed as I showed her the torn strap.
Except now I looked closer, it wasn’t just torn. It was shredded. There was no way it could be repaired. Half of the beads were missing. The only place this dress was going was the bin.
“It’s a long story. Let’s get the everyday stuff out of the way, and then I’ll fill you in. What’s first on the list?” I sat in my chair and put my feet up on the desk. It was going to be a long day.
“Rupert wanted to know what you were doing for your birthday. I said I’d ask you. I think he’d like to do something special.”
Rupert was my adoptive father. Well, he’d not exactly adopted me, but I was as much a daughter to him as anyone could be, and it was thanks to him I lived here in this beautiful apartment.
“Christ, I’d forgotten what month it was. Just tell him I don’t need anything.”
“Like that’s going to work. You know him too well, and once he gets something into his head…”
She didn’t need to finish that sentence. I knew exactly what he was like.
I steepled my fingers and sucked in my bottom lip. What could I tell him? I hated celebrating my birthday, and while this wasn’t a milestone, I’d be thirty-five and coming into my prime.
The last time I’d told him I needed nothing, he’d presented me with the most beautiful gold necklace, a single diamonddangling from the chain. Knowing how much it would have cost him, I kept it in the safe. I’d never forgive myself if I lost it.
“Tell him I’ll think about it and get back to him.” He’d already given me so much. I could never hope to repay him. Not that he expected it, but I knew some people thought there was more to our relationship than there was.
We’d met while I was ‘on the job’, and we’d hit it off. As I’d mentioned to the delightful Ellie Sharpe, I didn’t sell sex. Well, not anymore. I sold my time, and that was exactly what Rupert had paid me for. In all the years I’d known him, there had never been anything remotely sexual between us.
