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Estelle’s blood pressure rose. She couldn’t believe she was finding this out second-hand. James was obviously too busy starting his new life and couldn’t be bothered to tell her. She still hoped to run another festival next year. But with whom?
Carly passed her the coffee. ‘Estelle, I’m sure whoever buys BDE will want to work with you again. You’ve done an amazing job.’
‘I can’t even pay your wages on time.’
‘We all understand about cash flow. We can wait until it’s over to be paid.’
‘I’m so sorry it’s come to this.’
‘Don’t be. It’s not my first rodeo and you need to know what you’ve created is special. There’ll always be teething issues, but we’ll get through them. I promise.’
‘I’m sorry James isn’t here.’
Carly waved her hand dismissively. ‘It’s all good. He’s on the other end of the phone if we need anything. Honestly, Estelle, you’ve got this.’
The door opened, and Zeke poked his head in. ‘I’ve got the management for UberGraft on the line,’ he said to Estelle. ‘The band want to arrive today rather than Thursday and are asking for you to show their PA the accommodation.’
‘Me?’ Estelle exclaimed. ‘Why?’
Zeke pulled an apologetic face. ‘It’s a privacy thing. They want you or James to meet their PA this afternoon at the cottage with the keys.’
‘But I can’t! I’m already triple booked!’ And James has buggered off to London…
‘Can you send your brother?’
‘Which one?’
Zeke shrugged. ‘Any of them?’
Estelle nodded. ‘I’ll get on it. What time did they want to meet there?’
‘Three.’
‘Okay, leave it with me.’ She turned to Carly and lifted her cappuccino. ‘Thank you for this.’
‘Anytime, boss,’ Carly replied with a grin. ‘Now go and find a handsome Foxbrooke man to placate UberGraft.’
Estelle rolled her eyes. ‘They’re my brothers, so as far as I’m concerned, they’re all gross. Let’s just hope their PA likes a British accent…’
* * *
James ducked into the toilet stall and pulled out his phone. It had been buzzing repeatedly since he left for London that morning, but he could only deal with the messages when he wasn’t schmoozing Garrett Ross, the owner of Global Tech.
Fingers tapping and swiping, he answered as many emails as he could.
‘Dude, you in here?’ an American voice drawled from outside.
Fuck. ‘Yeah, hang on.’ James pocketed his phone, flushed the toilet for effect, then exited the stall and went to the sinks.
Garrett was at the urinal and glanced at James over his shoulder. ‘We’ve got a table at Soho House. You ready?’
‘Sure.’ James ran his hands under the taps, wishing he could wash Garrett off his skin as easily as the soap.
Garrett shook his hips, then zipped up his fly. ‘Let’s do this.’ He gave James’s shoulder a slap and headed for the door.
James followed with a sigh. His new boss was exactly as he’d dreaded. Rich and entitled, Garrett Ross was a geek with old money backing. His father had bankrolled Global Tech from the start and helped him find clients. The company was now a big player in the software industry, and Garrett truly believed he was a self-made man.
And you think you’re so different? Who paid for your education? Bought you BDE to run? Your fairy godfather?
