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Ah, that one she didn’t have to think about. ‘On Tuesday I have a date.’
‘With whom?’ he queried politely.
She shrugged. ‘No one you would know.’
‘Try me.’
She sighed. ‘His name is Greg Pollard.’
‘What does he do?’
‘Something to do with travel, I think.’
‘You think? You don’t know?’
‘Well, I haven’t met him yet,’ she said, nettled.
‘What is this—a blind date set up by a friend? Or did you advertise in the personal column?’
‘No, of course not.’ She treated his sarcasm with the contempt it deserved. ‘I’ve joined a computer dating service,’ she said, proud of her bold initiative. ‘They security-screen their clients and guarantee a seventy-five per cent compatibility rating—’
‘Computer dating!’
‘I thought you said he never shouted,’ said Harriet to Nicola, who was looking at her father’s red face in fascination.
He recovered his control with admirable swiftness, not even bothering to notice the ripples of interest that he had created at surrounding tables.
‘I’m sorry but—dammit, Harriet,’ he burst out softly, ‘do you know what an incredible risk you’re taking? A computer can’t make character judgements; it’s totally reliant on people being honest about themselves on the input data. No matter how well they’re run, those kinds of organisations are rich feeding-grounds for con men and psychos who prey on the hopes and dreams of lonely, desperate people—’
‘Greg sounded very nice on the phone—’
He dropped his knife. ‘You gave him your phone number?’
‘For goodness’ sake, I’m not that stupid! The service gave me his number and I rang him…’
The rest of the lunch gave Harriet a very bad case of indigestion as she was forced to dine on Marcus’s quiet, compelling lecture on the dangers of being too trusting.
By the time the embarrassingly large bill arrived twenty minutes later even Nicola was beginning to look a little shell-shocked, and it was small consolation when she confided later that afternoon that Harriet was the first person she had seen discompose her father so completely.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HARRIET sprawled backwards onto the luxuriously soft bed and stared up at the recessed lights in the creamcoloured ceiling with a smile of glorious anticipation.
She coul
dn’t believe her luck—to find such a marvellous apartment on the first day of looking and at such a good price was little short of a miracle. She must remember to buy Nicola a small gift of appreciation, for it was she who had mentioned that there were apartments in the Harbourside Building being advertised for sale and lease.
To Harriet, who had been at a loss as to where to begin the apartment-hunting expedition that she had boldly proposed for lunchtime on Monday, it had seemed like fate.
And so it had proved. She had been instantly enchanted by the dashing face-lift that the old building down near the city’s waterfront had received, and the real-estate saleswoman who represented the vendor had been so friendly and enthusiastic and devoutly keen for Harriet to buy that she had impulsively agreed on the spot. All her instincts had told her that the light and airy one-bedroomed apartment was the perfect setting for her new lifestyle.
Besides, the price was practically a steal, and the vendor had even given the real-estate agency permission to take a deposit to the value of a short-term lease if the buyer wanted to take immediate possession. If the sale fell through for any reason after Harriet had moved in, she would still have the three-month period of the lease to look around for something else.
The fact that she’d been able to move in immediately had been the real clincher. Leaving the only home she’d ever known was an emotional wrench that Harriet had wanted over and done with as soon as possible, but even she hadn’t thought that it could be achieved in only two days!
Harriet rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her hand as she surveyed the spacious, high-ceilinged bedroom. Although she had only been here a couple of hours she loved her new home already; it was modern, with a hint of the gothic character that featured so strongly on the façade of the building.
The cream walls and carpets contrasted with the muted pastels of the mostly built-in furniture, and the price had included a few of the showroom pieces which had been used as a sales tool, so that moving in had largely been a matter of transferring her personal belongings and the contents of her kitchen, enabling her to offer her old furniture to a second-hand dealer as a house-lot. Harriet had paid a removal company to do most of the moving while she was at work, and a few round trips in the Porsche had taken care of the rest.
