“Emma?” Sarah was taken aback to find her ex-husbands sister standing on her doorstep, drenched from head to toe, rainwater dripping from her blonde curls.
“It started bucketing down on the way over. My things are soakedI need to dry them off. Can I come in?”
“Alright, then. Come in.” Sarah knew Emma had trekked quite a distanceher house sat in a gated estate, tucked away on a quiet lane, a good fifteen-minute walk from the main gate. How Emma had even found the place was a mystery.
“Could I have a cuppa?” Emma wiped smudged mascara from under her eyes and shook water from her cheek.
“Dry yourself off first,” Sarah said, handing her a roll of kitchen towels. The wooden flooring couldnt handle moisture, and Emmas sodden trainers were a threat to the fresh renovation.
“Ta.”
“Now, what brings you here?”
“Im skint. Desperate, really.”
“And whats that got to do with me? I dont lend money.”
“I knowIm not asking for a loan. I need help finding work. Any job! Ill take anything, so long as it pays. I heard your new husband owns a chain of hotels. Put in a word for me?”
“Any experience?”
“Yeah!” Emma nodded eagerly. “Worked in cafés.”
“Doing what?”
“Managementwell, supposed to be. Started as a waitress, but I was this close to promotion!”
“How long did you last?”
“Two months. Two weeks at one spot, a week at another left the third yesterday. Clashed with the manager.”
Sarah stared at her, incredulous.
“You realise that sort of track record wont impress anyone?”
“What dyou mean? Three different cafésthats loads of experience!”
“Job-hopping doesnt make you look reliable, love. Quite the opposite.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do? I need cashurgent!” Emmas eyes welled up.
“Why? And why come to London? Its not cheapwhere are you staying?”
“First with a mate, then at my brothers, but his new girlfriend kicked me out. Proper cow, she is.”
“Did she now?” Sarahs lips tightened. Mention of her ex always left a bitter taste.
“Hes turned right nasty since he met her. I begged to stay, but she wouldnt have me. Sarah, pleaseyoure my only hope!”
“I cant promise anything. I dont work myself, so Ive no sway over hiring.”
“But youre his wife! Just ask himpull a few strings?”
“Ill mention it. No guarantees. Hes away on business till the weekend.”
“Thank you! Knew you were decent, not like that witch. Sarah, lovecan I stay the night? Look at that downpour! Itll be pitch black soon, and Ive no fare for the Tube.”
“Howd you even get here?”
“Hitched a ride”
“Bloody hell.” Sarah couldnt in good conscience turn her outwet, broke, and alone after dark. Reluctantly, she pointed to the guest room. “Fine. But youre gone first thing. No freeloading.”
“Cheers!” Emma beamed, flopping onto the bed and admiring the posh wallpaper, crystal chandelier, and thick velvet curtains.
“Back home, no ones got digs like this Lucky Sarah, bagging a rich bloke. Thats what I needthen all my troubles vanish!”
She dreamed of landing some glamorous job, catching the eye of a wealthy, single executive, and living happily ever afterjust like in those romance novels. What she didnt grasp was that successful men werent lining up for girls like her, and no one hires a nineteen-year-old with zero experience for a top role.
Thats exactly what Sarahs husband, James, said upon his return.
“Only one spot open for her.”
“What is it?”
“One she wont fancy.”
“She swore shed take anything,” Sarah reminded him.
“Right. Tell her to report at half-six tomorrow. If shes that keen, shes hired.”
Emma found the sleek glass-and-steel office tower easily enoughthough she rocked up three hours late, blaming a bus breakdown.
The place impressed her.
Climbing the stairs, she fantasisedimagining herself sweeping in as the bosss wife, or at least his glamorous PA.
Shed dressed for the part: sky-high stilettos, a skirt barely covering her backside, and a sheer top better suited to a nightclub.
The heels made walking a nightmareshe nearly tripped twice before reaching the door, where a burly security guard blocked her path.
“Where dyou think youre going?”
“To work!”
“Got a pass?”
“No.”
“Wrong door, then. Staff entrance is round back.”
“People like me dont need passes,” Emma sneered. “And youyoull be sacked tomorrow. Learn to recognise your betters!”
The guard burst out laughinghed have said she looked more suited to roadside soliciting than office work, but he didnt get the chance.
“Afternoon, Mr. Whitmore,” he snapped to attention.
“Afternoon, Dave,” James nodded, then grimaced at Emma. He motioned to have her removed, but she cut in first.
“Here for the job!” she chirped. “Emma. Sarahs friend.”
James flushed. He hadnt expected this. And he certainly didnt want colleagues linking this train wreck to his wife.
“Youre late. By three hours! Right, come with me.” He grabbed her elbow. “And dont mention Sarah. Youre not friends. And never dress like this again.”
“Too posh, eh?”
“No! You look like a” he hissed, steering her away, “a complete liability!”
“Whats the big secret? Ahdont want gossip about nepotism, is it?”
“Who said anything about a good job?”
“Sarah implied Any chance of a company flat? Somewhere swanky?”
“Dont push it. At best, youll bunk in the staff dorm.”
“Well, I thought since youre the boss”
“What? That Id make you my deputy?”
“Assistant, maybe?”
“My assistant has three degrees and speaks five languages. What do you speak besides English?”
Emma pondered.
“Gibberish.”
“Excuse me?”
“You knowadd an s after every syllable, same vowel before it.”
“Youre joking. Well, youll need humour where youre going. Report to Maria on the ground floor. Shell kit you out.”
“Brilliant!” Emma pictured a power suit, sleek heels
“Youll be paid weekly. Commission-based.”
“How much?”
“Depends how hard you work.” James scribbled a figure. Emmas face fellfar below her expectations. Still, she reasoned it was a foot in the door. Once inside, shed charm some executive into marriage. Then no more work!
Downstairs, a stern woman in a white apron waited.
“Emma?”
“Thats me”
“Follow me.”
Emma froze at the sight of mops, buckets, and rubber gloves.
“Theres been a mistake! I didnt apply to be a cleaner!”
“Youre not qualified to clean yet. Youll start as a juniors helper.” Maria thrust a mop and slippers at her. “Change. Those shoes are a hazard.”
“But Im”
“Today, youll scrub floors from here to the fifth. Stairs too.”
Emma gaped as Maria turned away, phone ringing.
“No bloody way.”
She dropped the mop and stormed off to confront Jamesbut hed vanished.
Fuming, she called Sarah.
“Are you taking the piss?”
“Whats wrong?”
“Your husband stuck me with a mop!”
“You said any job.”
“Not this! Im not scrubbing loos!”
“Your choice.” Sarah hung up. She had better things to do than coddle her exs sister.
Emma kicked the doorsnapping her heel. Barefoot, she limped outside, where catcalls followed her from builders vans. No millionaires in sight.
Defeated, she hobbled back to her brothers flatheel broken, tights ripped, pride in tatters.
“Changed your mind about helping?” she demanded. “Dont be like Sarah.”
“No, Emma. Learn a skill first, then try London.” The door slammed in her face.
With no options left, Emma trudged back to her parents in Leeds, dreams of a wealthy husband shelved.
“Nobody gets me in that snobby city,” she muttered to her mate, spitting sunflower shells onto the pavement.
“Londoners are proper stuck-up,” her friend agreed.
“Rude, too.”
They
