The Christmas Project: A laugh-out-loud romance from bestselling author Maxine Morrey. Maxine Morrey

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      ‘Could you please stop looking at me like that. I feel bad enough already. I just thought I should fill you in because I wouldn’t put it past Mr O’Farrell to bring it up and I didn’t want you blindsided.’

      ‘But you’re always so…controlled with clients.’

      ‘As I say. Probably for the best that you’re doing it.’

      ‘Wow. I really can’t wait to meet him now. If he rattled your cage, he must be something.’

      ‘Oh, he’s something all right. And just so you have all the background info, he’d kept me waiting in the snow for nearly an hour before finally showing up, made absolutely no apology and just proceeded to tell me how much he didn’t want our services. My patience was worn pretty thin by then.’

      ‘Understandably. It’s no problem. I can handle him.’

      ‘Thanks Bernice. I really appreciate this. I really didn’t want my falling out with him to affect my friendship with Janey. So this is the best of both worlds – he gets help and I don’t upset my friend because I beat her brother to death with an egg whisk.’

      ‘Is it actually possible beat someone to death with an egg whisk?’

      ‘You haven’t met him. It’d certainly be worth a try.’

      Bernice grinned.

      ‘I’ll call him now and put it in your diary for tomorrow. The ones after that, perhaps you can discuss with him, once you see how you’ve progressed after the first session? I’ve typed up the notes I took last night, so I’ll email them over to you.’

      ‘Great, thanks.’

      I quickly sent her the email before I forgot, then dialled Michael’s number. After three rings it went to voicemail and his lilting voice told me he was unable to come to the phone and asked for a message to be left. So polite. So attractive. So unlike the owner of the voice.

      ‘Mr O’Farrell, it’s Kate Stone from Stone Organisation. Thank you for your email. Having looked at our schedule, there is a space tomorrow at twelve, which coincides with one of the times you sent me. In the circumstances, I’ve blocked that out and unless I hear differently, your first session will be at noon tomorrow. Thank you.’

      I hung up and then quickly fired off a text to Janey telling her that we’d be starting on her brother’s house properly tomorrow so she could relax and that it was all in hand.

      A moment later a reply pinged back.

       Brilliant! Thanks so much for letting me know. Can’t thank you enough for fitting him in. I know you’re rammed. Big kiss xx

      I smiled and texted back.

       No problem. Happy to be able to help xx

      I checked the clock and scooped up some files from my desk.

      ‘Right. Better scoot. You OK for this afternoon?’

      Bernice looked up from her screen. ‘Yep. Kenny Jakes has emailed to see if we can fit in another session as his mother is coming down for the holidays and he wants it perfect. I had a spare couple of hours so I’m going to go to him before Mrs Calder.’

      ‘OK. Great. Call me if you need anything.’

      ‘Will do. Have fun!’

      I waved and snagged my umbrella from the hook before stepping out onto the rainy London street.

      ***

      I’d just got back from my last appointment with Mrs Clarke in Wimbledon and had my head down answering emails when Bernice came into the tiny office.

      ‘Hi,’ I said, distractedly. Then pulled my head up again. ‘Wait a minute. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at Michael O’Farrell’s?’

      ‘I am. And I was. But he doesn’t want me there.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Well, I got there and he opened the door. I get what you mean about the whole gorgeous thing now, by the way. Big, masculine, kind of rough around the edges, and, wow, those eyes – ’

      ‘Bernice?’

      ‘Oh. Yes. Sorry. Well, I said who I was, and what I was there for. He asked where you were, so I told him you had an appointment elsewhere this morning. Then he thanked me for coming, apologised that my time had been wasted and offered to pay for a cab to take me wherever I wanted to go. All terribly polite.’

      ‘That was it?’

      ‘Yep. Bit odd I have to say. He definitely knew I was coming. I heard you leave the message.’

      I was doing my best to stay calm but after everything I’d said to him, after everything Janey had said to him, he was still pulling the same stunt! I searched for his details and stabbed the number into my phone. He answered on the second ring.

      ‘Michael O’Farrell.’ The languid, gravelly voice floated down the line and if I hadn’t been so mad at him, I might have considered again just how attractive it was. But I was. So I didn’t.

      ‘Mr O’Farrell, it’s Kate Stone.’

      ‘Hello Kate.’

      I waited for an explanation but the line stayed silent.

      ‘I wonder if you would be so good as to explain why, when I go to the effort of reorganising our schedule to accommodate you, during a period which I have already told you is busy, you then choose to turn my colleague away from your door?’ I carried on, not actually giving him a chance to explain because, whatever lame excuse he had, I was no longer interested.

      ‘I have gone out of my way to help you Mr O’Farrell, and you’ve done nothing but be difficult. I really don’t appreciate you wasting my company’s time and, in the circumstances, as it is clear that you have no wish to be helped, I would appreciate it if you could explain the situation to your sister. Goodbye.’

      I hung up and realised I’d barely taken a breath. I sucked in some air and made an effort to bring my heart rate down out of the danger range. God, he was infuriating. It was just as well I wasn’t working with him. If my dealings so far were any indication, I wasn’t sure I’d get even halfway through the process before keeling over from a blood clot.

      ‘You know you didn’t actually give him a chance to speak, don’t you?’

      I looked at Bernice. She was chewing the inside of her lip. ‘Maybe he had a good reason?’

      ‘I’m not really one for excuses, Bernice. You know that.’

      ‘I know, but – ’

      She was interrupted by my phone ringing. I looked at the number on the display and my gaze drifted up to the computer screen where Michael O’Farrell’s details were still displayed.

      ‘Oh crap.’

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