‘COME ALONG, HATTY. Leave that!’
Harriet Fairchild looked up from her computer screen, eyes full of spreadsheets and numbers and projections, and smiled at the petite woman jiggling impatiently from foot to foot by the side of the pretty antique desk.
‘I just need to finish this and I’ll be right there. Five minutes, Amber, I promise.’
‘You said that ten minutes ago,’ Amber pointed out. ‘Our guests will be here in fifteen minutes and we haven’t had our private toast yet. Those spreadsheets will still be there in the morning.’
‘Along with everything else I haven’t managed to do yet. I can’t believe I’m so behind, when we haven’t even opened the agency.’ But Harriet was saving the documents as she spoke, closing down the laptop and shutting the lid with a sigh she did her best to hide from the bubbly redhead. Her new business partners—and best friends—had been more than understanding when Harriet disappeared across London most days to sit with her father after yet another fall, but with the Happy Ever After Agency due to open its doors imminently she knew it should have been all hands on deck back at the elegant Chelsea townhouse where they now lived, worked and dreamed.
‘I can’t believe it’s actually happening.’ Amber bounced up and down on her trainer-clad tiptoes as Harriet slipped her laptop into the desk drawer and locked it. ‘That we’ve made it.’
‘We’re not there yet; we need some clients first.’ But although Harriet was trying to maintain her usual calm and sensible manner, excitement fizzed inside her like the champagne Emilia was getting ready to uncork on the other side of the room.
‘Well, that’s what tonight’s about. Launching the business. After tonight we’ll have more work than we can cope with, you’ll see.’
‘We will if the other two have anything to do with it. Between Emilia’s event skills and Alex’s PR skills, how can our launch event be anything but a success? And if it isn’t, well, we can live off canapés and champagne for the next week!’
She followed Amber through the office and into the freshly decorated reception area, where the other two co-owners of the Happy Ever After Agency were waiting for her. As she joined them Emilia finally let the cork go with a resounding pop, Alexandra deftly holding a glass under the bottle to catch the first rush of golden bubbles, handing the filled glass to Harriet with a smile.
‘Thank you!’ Harriet took the glass and held it out, waiting till the other three each held their own to join her in the toast. ‘To dreams coming true and happy-ever-afters,’ she said.
‘To happy-ever-afters,’ Emilia echoed, her answering smile for once full and frank, the shadows that usually haunted her eyes nowhere to be seen.
‘And to all our dreams.’ Alexandra could never be anything but cool and collected, but her even, polite smile was genuinely warm, the excitement in her voice unfeigned.
‘To us.’ Amber was never less than sunny and her smile lit up the room. ‘We’ve done it. I’m so proud of us!’
Harriet turned to Alexandra, her heart full of gratitude. ‘And earlier than planned, thanks to you, Alex.’
The tall, slim girl shook her immaculately coiffed head. ‘Thanks to my godmother, you mean. She left me this place. Without her, our dreams would still be just that, only dreams.’
‘To your fairy godmother, then.’ Amber raised her glass in another toast and the small group responded with a respectful murmur. They all knew how lucky they were. Alexandra’s inheritance meant that not only were they opening the agency a couple of years earlier than planned, they didn’t have to worry about renting premises or any of the overhead costs starting a new business usually entailed.
Harriet took a sip of the champagne, trying to work out just what it was that made this vintage twenty times more expensive than her usual brand of corner shop Prosecco, and looked around the room, unable to stop herself critically surveying it, looking for flaws or potential problems. Her stomach settled, the squeeze in her chest relaxing as she saw nothing out of place. They were ready, and after tonight’s launch the great, good and wealthy of Chelsea would know that they were here and that they were open for business.
Luckily the small Chelsea townhouse Alexandra had inherited was structurally perfect, if outdated in decor, but between them they had saved just enough to knock down the wall between the front sitting room and back dining room to create the light, inviting reception and office space they now stood in. Wooden floorboards shone with a warm golden glow, the replastered walls were freshly painted matt white above the picture rails and a light grey below and the original tiled fireplaces had been scrubbed until they shone. Two comfortable-looking sofas sat opposite each other at the front of the room, inviting spaces for potential clients or staff to relax in, and their own desks, an eclectic mixture of vintage and modern classic, faced the reception area in two rows, paperwork neatly filed in the shelves built into the alcoves by the back fireplace. Flowers and plants softened the space, a warm floral print on the blinds and curtains, the same theme picked up in the pictures hanging on the walls. They wanted their public-facing space to look professional and yet unique. Like the services they offered.
The door at the back led to a narrow kitchen and a sunny conservatory extension they used as a sitting/dining room. Usually the door would remain closed, keeping the area private, but today it was flung open to welcome their new neighbours and potential clients to their launch party, the fridge filled with a much less expensive champagne than the one they were currently drinking, the tables and counters covered with an array of tempting canapés baked by Amber over the last two days. The scent of warm spices and fresh bread mingled aromatically with the beeswax polish and fresh flowers.
Upstairs, each of the two floors housed two bedrooms and a bathroom. Thanks to Alexandra’s generosity, this was all theirs. The bills were to be paid out of the agency profits, each partner only drawing enough salary for simple needs, the rest to be pooled back in until they had enough for what each of them truly dreamed for—security. Security and a home. Harriet inhaled, letting the unique scent fill her lungs. Security, home and a family.
‘Ten minutes, girls.’ Emilia brought Harriet back to the here and now. ‘Are we ready?’
‘The office couldn’t look more perfect,’ Harriet said. ‘And we’re all looking presentable, too.’ She grinned at the understatement. As usual her friends looked stunning; they had agreed to all wear black, and if Harriet’s sensible wrap dress looked dull next to Alex’s elegant shift, Amber’s vintage-inspired swing dress and Emilia’s pretty floaty skirt and lace top, well, she was more than used to fading into the background. Preferred it in fact.
‘I’ve been chatting up all the neighbours,’ Amber said. ‘They’ve all been invited personally and I managed a subtle sales pitch at the same time. I’ve identified several in need of an emergency childcare provider, dog walkers and housekeeping and I’ve already been approached for some light cleaning and shopping for a couple of elderly residents I spoke to in the park. And while chatting I made sure they know that I have all the contacts. I reckon we’ll hear from some time-poor, cash-rich families wanting their date nights organised from babysitters to impossible-to-get-into restaurants before the week is out...’ Amber specialised in providing bespoke concierge services. At Aion, the company they had all recently left, her role had been to run the small team who ensured VIP clients wanted or needed for nothing, no matter how short the notice.
‘And I’ve already got a couple of events lined up and the clients are, of course, invited tonight. First up a charity brunch and then two birthdays; one is for a child, Amber, so maybe