“Emily?” Sophie hadnt expected to see her ex-husbands sister standing at her doorstep. The girl was drenched, rainwater dripping from her long hair.
“It started bucketing down on my way over. My stuffs soakedI need to dry off Can I come in?”
“Fine come in.” Sophie knew Emily had travelled a fair distanceher house was in a gated estate, tucked away on a quiet street, a good fifteen-minute walk from the main gate. How Emily had even found her address, let alone got past security, was a mystery.
“Tea?” Emily wiped smudged mascara from under her eyes, shaking water from her cheek.
“Dry yourself first.” Sophie handed her a roll of kitchen towels. The hardwood floors couldnt handle moisture, and Emilys soggy trainers were a hazard to the fresh renovation.
“Ta.”
“Now, why are you here?”
“I need money. Badly.”
“And thats my problem? I dont do loans.”
“Im not asking for one. I need help finding work. Anything! Just so it pays I know your new husband owns a chain of hotels. Ask him to get me in”
“Any experience?”
“Yeah!” Emily nodded eagerly. “Worked in a café.”
“Doing what?”
“Manager well, supposed to be. They started me as a waitress, but I was practically there! Nearly got promoted.”
“How long did you last?”
“Couple of months. Two weeks here, a week there quit the last one yesterday. The manager was a nightmare.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow.
“You realise no one hires people with that sort of track record?”
“What? Three different cafés! Ive got loads of experience!”
“Job-hopping makes you look unreliable, not experienced.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do? Im skint!” Emilys eyes welled up.
“Why do you need cash so badly? And why London? Its expensivewhere are you staying?”
“First with a mate, then my brother booted me out. His new girlfriend wouldnt have me there.”
“Did she now?” Sophie frowned. Even hearing about her ex left a bitter taste.
“Hes turned proper nasty since her. I begged to stay, but that cow wouldnt have it! Sophie, pleaseyoure my only hope”
“I cant promise anything. I dont work, so Ive no pull with hiring.”
“But youre his wife! Just ask him to pull some strings”
“Ill see whats available. Hes away on business till the weekend.”
“Thank you! Knew you werent like that witch Sophie, love, can I crash here tonight? Look at the rain! Its getting dark, and Ive no fare for the Tube.”
“Howd you even get here?”
“Hitched a lift”
“Bloody hell.” Sending her out alone at night was risky. Despite barely knowing Emily, Sophie felt a pang of pity and pointed her to the spare room. “Fine. But youre gone by morning. No freeloading.”
“Deal!” Emily brightened, sprawling on the bed and admiring the posh wallpaper, fancy curtains, and designer light fitting.
“Back home, no ones got anything like this Lucky Sophie, bagging a rich bloke. I need to find one of thosethen Im sorted!”
She dreamed of landing some swanky job, meeting a loaded bachelor, and living like a romance novel. What she didnt get was that successful men didnt look twice at girls like her. And that a 19-year-old with zero experience wouldnt waltz into a top job.
Exactly what Sophies husband, James, said when he got back.
“Not much I can offer.”
“Whats going?”
“One opening. Doubt shell take it.”
“She said shed do anything,” Sophie reminded him.
“Really? Then tell her to show up at 6:30 tomorrow. If shes that desperate, the jobs hers.”
Emily found the hotel chains swanky office easilythough she rocked up at 9:00, three hours late. Not her fault, thoughthe bus broke down.
The building was impressive. Climbing the stairs, she fantasised about sweeping in as the bosss wifeor at least his personal assistant.
Shed even dressed the part: sky-high heels, a skirt barely there, and a top more suited to a nightclub than an office.
Struggling not to topple over, she barged through the doorstraight into security.
“Where dyou think youre going?” The guard eyed her skeptically.
“Work!”
“Got a pass?”
“Nope.”
“Wrong entrance, then. Staff only.”
“People like me dont need passes,” Emily sniffed. “And you? Youre fired tomorrow. Learn to recognise your betters!”
The guard burst out laughing. He nearly told her she looked more suited to roadside hitchhiking than office workbut didnt get the chance.
“Morning, Mr. Carter,” he said, stiffening.
“Alright, Mike?” James glanced at Emily and winced. He was about to have her removed when she cut in.
“Im here for the job!” she chirped. “Im Emily. Your wifes friend.”
James flushed. He hadnt expected this. And he certainly didnt want this mess linked to Sophie.
“Youre late. Three hours late. Right, come with me.” He steered her away. “And stop saying you know my wife. You dont. And never dress like this again.”
“Too posh, eh?”
“No! You look like you belong on a street corner!” he hissed.
“Ah, I get ityou dont want rumours about nepotism.”
“Who said anything about a good job?”
“Sophie did! Any chance of a company flat nearby? Thought I could stay while”
“Stop lying. Youre getting a bunk in staff lodging, if youre lucky.”
“Well, since youre the boss”
“What? You think Ill make you my deputy?”
“Assistant, maybe?”
“My assistant has three degrees and speaks five languages. What do you speak besides English?”
Emily pondered.
“Gibberish.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, where you add s after every syllable, then the same vowel.”
“Are you taking the mick? Doesnt matteryoull need a sense of humour for this job.”
“When do I start?”
“Now. Ground floor, ask for Margaret. Shell sort your uniform.”
“Brill!” Emily imagined a power suit, heels clicking down executive hallways.
“Youre paid weekly. Commission-based.”
“How much?”
“Depends how hard you work. Do well, theres a bonus.” James scribbled a number. Emilys face fellshed expected way more. But she wasnt giving up. Now shed rub shoulders with the elite. Maybe snag a rich husband and never work again.
Downstairs, a woman in a white apron waited.
“Emily?”
“Thats me”
“This way.”
“Waityouve got the wrong Emily!” She froze at the sight of mops and buckets. “I didnt sign up to clean!”
“Cleanings a skilled trade. Youll start as junior cleaners assistant. Change into thesethose heels are useless here.”
Margaret thrust a robe, rubber clogs, and cleaning supplies into her hands.
“But I”
“Today, youre scrubbing floors from here to the fifth. And the stairs.”
Emily opened her mouth to argue, but Margaret was already on a call.
“No. Sod this.”
She dropped the gear and stormed off to find Jamesbut hed vanished.
Fuming, she rang Sophie.
“Are you taking the piss?!”
“What now?”
“Your husband stuck me with a mop!”
“You said any job.”
“Not this! Im not scrubbing loos!”
“Your choice.” Sophie hung up. She had better things to do than babysit her exs sister.
The dial tone set Emily off. She kicked the doorsnapping her heel. Barefoot, she stomped outside.
Wolf whistles followed her from passing carsnone of them driven by millionaires. Defeated, she trudged back to her brothers, broken heel in hand, tights ruined, ego bruised.
“Look, any chance you can help me find work?” she demanded, arms crossed. “Dont be like Sophie”
“No, Em. Learn a skill first, then try conquering London.” With that, he shut the door in her face.
Emily slunk back to her parents in Essex, dreams of a posh marriage shelved.
“No one gets me Londons full of snobs,” she muttered to her mate, spitting sunflower shells on the pavement.
“Heard theyre proper rude there,” her friend agreed.
“
