‘Your face does seem familiar,’ she said through slightly narrowed eyes, summing him up.
Here we go, thought Rory.
‘Does it?’ he gave a tight smile.
‘Yes.’ She blushed a little self-consciously, realising she may have come across as a touch too friendly. But since opening his door to her, something about his face had definitely resonated. She looked down at the clipboard containing her notes and read his name again. Rory Molloy, even the name sounded familiar.
‘So,’ interrupted Rory, eager to press on, ‘what are we looking at?’
‘Sorry?’
‘How much is it worth?’ He replied patiently.
‘Oh, right, well I’ll just take a look at the bedrooms…’
‘Be my guest.’ Rory tipped his head towards his bedroom door, then went to the kitchenette to put the kettle on. He didn’t see the need to follow her in, it would only delay matters with further unnecessary chit-chat. Then he realised what a bad move he’d made by making himself a drink. Would it be rude not to offer her one? It might encourage even more conversation which he didn’t want. He shook his head at how impatient he was becoming.
Since making the decision to sell up and leave London, he simply couldn’t wait to go. Every day he talked to Cassie and without being able to touch her was killing him. And her too, he grinned roguishly to himself, judging by the fruity texts she sent him. Often he would throw his head back and howl at her naughty messages. They most certainly shared the same sense of humour. For the first time in his life, he knew he’d found his soul mate. Truth be told, he’d known it the second he’d met her. They’d clicked from the word go, almost as though they hadn’t been strangers up until then, but old friends reuniting. Maybe that was the reason why it felt like they had known each other longer than they had. After all, look at what he’d done – quitted an extremely prosperous, lucrative career in London and was about to up sticks and move. Rory had always known he’d never settle in London forever, but Cassie had prompted the inevitable decision a whole lot sooner than he’d originally anticipated. And now that he had made that ultimate decision, he was desperate to fulfil it and get the hell out of the city.
He yearned for fresh, clean country air, rolling green hills and a slower pace of life. He’d grown to hate the traffic, smog and crowds of London. He’d grown to hate the chambers he’d worked for and the bureaucracy of it all. Picturing Nigel Kerfoot’s smug face made him cringe and want to punch him on the nose. As soon as he sold the flat, he’d be off. Workwise, he had fortunately completed the few cases he had had, not that there were many, as the activists had been his main priority, and now that had concluded. The construction company had taken over the whole site and all the climate protesters had been shifted. Their message had been heard, nationally, so job done for Rory. Realistically, the likelihood of the carriageway never being built was remote, but he hoped his efforts would bring the climate issue to the top of the agenda, instead of being batted away as purely an inconvenience, not to be taken seriously. Inadvertently, the whole saga had put him in a good position for whatever his next job might be – he’d made his mark in the legal world, and people knew him. Even this estate agent was going to recognise him any moment. As if on cue, she came back into the room.
‘I know!’ she beamed, pointing her finger. ‘You’re the Climate Warrior!’
Obviously she’d seen his wig and gown on top of the chest of drawers and made the connection to him being a barrister. Either that or she’d thought he may have rather fetish tendencies. He smirked to himself, then couldn’t help but laugh out loud remembering one of Cassie’s more risqué texts.
‘I bet you get this all the time,’ she grinned, thinking he was reacting to her.
He shrugged. ‘Don’t suppose it could be another selling point?’ he asked with a bright smile.
‘Hmm, maybe.’ Her eyes ran up and down him. She gave another coquettish glance.
Oh hell, was she hitting on him? Whilst not wanting to appear arrogant, he really could do without this. His quick mind focused on the matter in hand.
‘So, what would you put it on the market for?’
‘I’d say in the region of seven hundred thousand to seven-fifty.’
He nodded; it was what he’d thought.
‘Good,’ he replied, then added, ‘My girlfriend will be pleased.’
This earned him a cold stare.
‘Right. I’ll get back to the office,’ she said in a clipped tone, arms crossed, clutching her clipboard. ‘I can have it on the website by tomorrow,’ she threw over her shoulder, barely looking at him.
‘Thanks,’ he said following her to the door.
‘Bye, Mr Molloy.’ She curtly tipped her head and left without another word.
*
‘Thanks, Max. Yes, that would be great. Bye.’ Cassie turned to Lisa on reception. ‘The new curtain poles are ready. Max is coming with them this afternoon.’
‘Will he be putting them up?’ Lisa asked.
‘Yes. He’s also made the cast-iron fittings for them.’ Cassie clicked on the hotel e-diary. It was just the superior, rear of house bedrooms overlooking the river that were getting the new poles, after having been recently refurbished. Fortunately three of them were empty that day. ‘Normally Darren would help him, but it’s his day off,’ she explained. ‘I’ll give him a hand if needs be.’
Darren was the maintenance-cum-handy-man who was invaluable behind the scenes.
