Blame It on the Champagne. Nina Harrington

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СКАЧАТЬ THREE

       Must-Do list

      • Thank the wine merchant for any free wine they bring. Kate and Amber will be very grateful for the bottles. No promises to buy any, of course.

      • Canapés. People in the wine trade can eat! Use the sales team as guinea pigs for a couple of new savouries which might work for the Christmas parties. Let them come up with the wine to match—could be interesting.

      • Do not let this new wine merchant leave without a few of the lovely brochures that Sam worked on. Who knows? Word of mouth recommendation is always the best. They might have some flash customers in need of a private meeting venue.

      BY THE TIME the Burgess Wine sales meeting finally closed, the grey September morning had turned into a bright sunny day. In the light breeze it was still warm enough for the conservatory doors to stay open, and Saskia looked out towards the sales team, who she had invited to finish their coffee on the patio.

      The golden coloured flagstones had absorbed the sun and warmed the terrace, creating a welcoming enclosed private garden. Brightly painted Mediterranean-style flowerpots created a soft barrier between the hard stone floor and the exuberant English flower borders and old stone wall covered with fragrant climbing roses and honeysuckle.

      This was exactly how she had imagined it would look that cold January when her Aunt Margot had died suddenly, just when she seemed to be recovering from the strokes which had made her life so difficult. Little wonder that these experts in the wine trade were in no hurry to dash out into the rush-hour traffic and fight their way home in this busy part of London.

      Saskia glanced quickly over her shoulder towards the table where Rick Burgess and his personal assistant Angie were huddled around a laptop computer.

      The strength in Rick’s shoulders and back contrasted so fiercely with his long slender fingers. His neck was a twisted rope of sinew as though he was barely holding in a volcano of suppressed energy and power.

      This was the man who had effortlessly lifted a planter that morning as though it was weightless.

      She had felt such an idiot when Angie had arrived and her knight in denim and a leather jacket had turned out to be the client that she had been waiting for.

      It had so totally floored her that she had felt off balance for most of the morning. Not that she would ever let him know that, of course.

      The company directors she met did not usually turn up to meetings wearing clothes more suited to a motorcycle rally. In fact she wouldn’t be surprised in the least if there was some huge, hulking two-wheeled machine parked around the corner at that minute, waiting for him to leap on and roar away.

      Combine that with tousled dark curly hair and designer stubble.

      Rick Burgess was certainly a company director with a difference.

      She watched him stand and share a laugh with Angie as they gathered up their papers and, just for a fraction of a second, she wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of the full-on charm of that power smile that beamed out of a rugged, handsome face.

      She knew that she had never been the pretty one, or super-creative or musically talented like her best friends Kate and Amber. But it would be nice now and again to have a handsome man really look at her as a woman and like what he saw. Instead of asking where the toilets were and could he have more coffee.

      Her beautiful mother Chantal had often said that Saskia had skipped a generation and would be much happier back in rural France on the vineyard where her own mother had been brought up, instead of living the high life of a city girl.

      And she was right in so many ways.

      Her mother could never understand why the teenage Saskia had begged to spend the school holidays working at the auberge with her extended French family instead of sitting on some tropical beach with her mother and her friends, while her father stayed in his room and worked on some financial deal or other.

      Of course that was when her grandparents were alive and her parents were still together. When her father left them everything changed.

      Suddenly her practical skills were useful and Saskia became the girl who made sure that there was food in the refrigerator and the bills were paid as her mother struggled to come to terms with what had happened and failed. Saskia had never once missed school or turned up without a clean uniform and brushed hair. When her mother’s world imploded she had become the dependable one who made sure things happened.

      The girl who would always help you out at the last minute.

      Not done your homework? Ask Saskia to help. All you had to do was pretend to be her friend, just long enough to get what you wanted.

      It had been a long apprenticeship forged from hard times, but, like it or not, fifteen years of training and hard work in the hotel and food trade had brought her to this point. She should be happy, ecstatic really, but all this was hers and she had made the business feasible on her own.

      Not that there was any choice. Without Elwood House, she would be working for someone else. She couldn’t go back to that. Not ever.

      Not after she had promised her aunt that she would take care of the house and make all of their great plans a reality.

      It was worth the exhaustion and never-ending strive for excellence.

      As the Burgess sales team moved into the hall, Saskia pressed her fingertips hard against the fine marble surface of the console table and took a deep breath before lifting her chin and personally thanking each of them in turn as they left the building, discreetly counting to make sure that no one had got locked in the washroom or had decided to take an unsupervised tour of the bedrooms upstairs.

      She sensed rather than heard someone coming up to speak to her and she spun around. ‘Miss Elwood. Could you spare a moment?’

      Up close and personal, Rick Burgess was just as physically impressive standing in her hallway as he had been on the pavement that morning. Even after two hours of what had been sometimes intense discussions, back and forth across the table, the intelligence in his grey eyes sparkled with life and vigour against a tanned face which had never seen a tanning salon.

      ‘Of course,’ she replied. ‘How can I help, Mr Burgess?’

      ‘Oh, please call me Rick,’ he replied and stretched out his hand to shake Saskia’s. ‘I just wanted to say a huge thank you for agreeing to see us today. We appreciate your time and your warm welcome into your lovely home.’

      ‘I am delighted that you enjoyed it.’ She sucked in a breath when he released his grip, which was a lot firmer than she was used to. As in finger-crushing firmer. ‘If you should ever need a venue for a business meeting, I do hope that you will consider Elwood House.’

      ‘A business meeting?’ His eyebrows rose and, as he returned her smile, the deep tan lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes creased into sharp falls. ‘Sure. My project team will need to get together every few weeks during pre-launch. Angie will get in contact. Although I do have one request before I take off.’

      His hands pushed into the pockets of his denims. ‘Prepare to be shocked. I am about to declare a terrible failing.’

      ‘A СКАЧАТЬ