The Christmas Project

Chapter Three

The following morning when I opened my emails, I was a little surprised to find one from my newest client, detailing a whole bunch of times he could free up in order to get his home organised. The brief, impersonal note advised that if I was able to work something out within my schedule to those times, he would appreciate it. If not, then could I let him know and he would take another look at his own diary and see what he could do. Perhaps he did actually mean to take this seriously after all, now that Janey had applied the thumbscrews.

I opened my calendar and took a look. I could probably manage it, but it was going to mean some serious juggling. The fact that I wished to spend as little time as possible with him wasn’t helping matters.

‘How did your appointment go with your friend’s brother last night?’ Bernice trotted in, her face all smiley and open. It was kind of infectious. I’d hired her as an assistant two years ago but she’d been keen to get into the actual business of organisation, so I’d agreed to train her. She’d now been a fully-fledged organiser for the past year and was loving it.

‘Ah. Yes. That.’ I pulled a face. ‘Oh thanks! Perfect!’ I said, taking the huge mug of hot chocolate she’d just made.

Bernice took a sip of her own from a similarly enormous mug and I waited until her face came back into view before continuing.

‘Let’s just say he and his sister are quite different.’

‘But you’re still planning to take him on?’

‘Of course. I promised I would. But I think it’s safe to say it’s not going to be one of my most fun assignments.’

‘Difficult?’

‘The house isn’t anything worse than I’ve seen before. But Mr O’Farrell himself is…quite something.’

‘Sleaze?’

‘No! Not at all. Nothing like that. Well, he made no secret of the fact he’s a one-night stand kind of guy, but that’s up to him. But no, he didn’t make me feel uncomfortable like that.’

‘So, what is it? Normally you’re fizzing with excitement when you’re about to start with a new client. And today you’re definitely more flat than fizz.’

‘He’s just…’

‘Oooh, is he gorgeous and you don’t want to get caught in an awkward situation? I know you have this big thing about not mixing business and pleasure.’ Bernice’s big brown eyes widened as her mind went off into areas unknown.

‘No. It’s not that either. Although he is gorgeous, which he clearly knows. The only thing I’m worried about is that I might actually kill him and have him buried under the patio of his newly organised home.’

‘Oh wow. That bad?’

‘That bad. Think big Irish Grinch on a motorbike and you’re pretty much there.’

‘Actually sounds kind of yummy. Apart from the Grinch bit, obviously. So when do you start?’ Bernice asked, getting up and wandering over to gaze out of the window at the rain that was now slamming against it.

I let out a sigh and peered again at my calendar, comparing it to the dates that Michael had sent over early this morning.

‘I’m not sure. Trying to find a time when we’re both free is beginning to look like more of an issue than I thought it was going to be. I think I’m going to end up having to see if he can do weekends by the looks of things.’

‘Does he specifically want to work with you?’ Bernice asked, coming away from the window to perch on my desk.

‘No, he just said that he wanted Stone Organisation rather than anyone else as his sister had recommended us.’ I distractedly flicked over the days of my calendar again, blindly hoping that when I looked at it this time there would magically be some space. I really didn’t want to have to go back to Michael and ask for different dates. I just wanted to get this all done and over with.

‘Bring my calendar up.’

‘What?’

‘Get mine up.’ Bernice leaned over and took the mouse from me, making a couple of clicks until her own schedule displayed on my screen in another window. ‘Now, when’s he free?’

I pulled the email I’d printed off towards me and glanced between the two. Bernice had a space tomorrow that would fit in with Michael.

‘There you go. Problem solved.’

I hesitated.

‘What is it?’

I looked up at her. ‘I feel like I’m fobbing him off on you! I’ve just told you he’s a right royal pain and now I’m dumping him on you.’ For all my thoughts last night about pushing O’Farrell to Bernice, I’d never really intended to lumber her.

‘Do you really want to deal with him?’

‘Oh God, no!’

Bernice laughed.

‘Sorry. That was a bit too emphatic, wasn’t it?’

‘That’s all right. I don’t mind dealing with him. It’s only a short-term thing anyway, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. It needs to be done by Christmas so we’ll be shot of him then.’

‘It’s settled then. Do you want me to contact him?’

‘No. I told him I’d call. I’ll give him a ring now and advise him he’s booked in for twelve tomorrow.’

‘I can hardly wait,’ Bernice teased. ‘I’m totally intrigued now.’

‘I still feel bad.’

‘Don’t. I volunteered and you can’t change your morning appointment tomorrow. That’s your final one with Mrs Clarke. She’d be devastated to not finish up with you.’

Bernice was right. This particular client had come a long way, physically and emotionally during the process, and the truth was I’d be upset to have to miss it too.

‘Thanks Bernice. You’re a lifesaver. It may be for the best anyway. You’ll probably be able to bring out his better side. I’m pretty sure he has one. There was a tiny glimpse of it when he was on the phone to his sister, but it only appears for a few seconds at a time. With me, anyway. But you have that cutesy persona thing going on. It’ll be perfect.’

‘I can certainly try.’

‘And bonus points if you can avoid calling him an arsehole within a few minutes of meeting him.’

Bernice was looking at me, her carefully painted Cupid’s bow mouth forming a perfect ‘O’.

‘You did not.’

I cleared my throat. ‘Yep, I kind of did.’

Bernice continued staring.

‘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.’

‘Is that him?’

I nodded.

‘You could just ignore it.’

‘I can’t. He’d keep ringing until the end of days just to annoy me.’

‘Stone Organisation,’ I answered, pretending I had absolutely no idea who was on the other end of the line.

‘Hello Kate. Michael O’Farrell here. But I’m pretty sure you knew that. It’s just that you called me to ask a question, but then ranted without giving me an opportunity to answer it. So I’m wondering if I might be able to do that now? Only if you have a moment, of course? I know what a busy time this is for you and how in demand you are.’

Sarcastic git.

‘I wasn’t ranting. And, of course, please say whatever it is you would like to say to explain why you’ve wasted everyone’s time.’

Bernice gave me a look. I pulled a face. Normally I was so good at being diplomatic but this man had an infuriating ability to push buttons I didn’t even know I had!

‘Are you done?’

‘Yes. Go ahead.’

‘Thank you. The reason I turned Bernice away this morning, perfectly lovely and efficient as I am sure she is, is that I made a deal with you. Not your colleague.’

‘You made a deal for my company to help you organise your home.’

‘No. My understanding was that you would be the one coming back in to my home. And not once did you ever suggest that it would be someone else. And the fact that you still didn’t tell me you would be sending someone else when you called me, alerts me to the fact that you were, in fact, fobbing me off on someone else because you didn’t want to deal with me.’

‘Of course I wasn’t fobbing you off!’

Across the desk, Bernice did a Pinocchio impression. I turned my chair so that my back was facing her.

‘Or maybe you didn’t think you were capable of dealing with me, for whatever reason.’

‘I am perfectly capable of dealing with you Mr O’Farrell. I just prefer not…’

Oh. Shit.

I could practically hear him smiling down the line as I dropped myself in it. I mentally added ‘smug’ to the list of his unattractive qualities.

‘That’s what I thought. There’s still four hours of the session left Kate. I’d appreciate being able to use that time if you’re available. However, if not, I’m happy to reschedule to a time when you, personally, are able to attend.’

I gritted my teeth and pulled up my calendar. ‘I’m sorry that there seems to have been some misunderstanding Mr O’Farrell. I was under the impression that you were hiring my company and had no preference as to which organiser attended.’

‘I wasn’t aware there was anyone other than you.’

‘Then I apologise for not making that clear, but I can assure you that Bernice is a very competent organiser and I’ve had nothing but positive feedback from all of her clients. I’m very aware of the time frame with you, and as Bernice was free earlier than I today, at a time that fitted in with you, it seemed ideal that she should come over, rather than having to put you off longer.’

‘I’m sure that she is excellent at her job. However, when I said I wanted you last night, that’s exactly what I meant.’

Oh God. I do wish he’d stop saying that.

Across the desk, Bernice tilted her head and raised an eyebrow as colour whooshed up my face.

‘I understand. We’ve obviously already lost some time but I can do the rest of today’s session. If that’s what you wish.’

‘I do.’

‘Then I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

‘I look forward to it.’

Liar.

He hung up before I could say anything else. Snatching my coat from the hook, I rammed my arms into the sleeves, fuming at his laid back self-assurance. And the fact that he’d tripped me up into pretty much admitting that I had been more than happy to bump him onto Bernice.

‘You’re going then?’ Bernice asked, watching me savagely trying wrap a scarf around my neck as if wrestling a particularly venomous python.

‘I don’t think I have much choice now. Best just to get it all over and done with as soon as possible. Although, if I don’t turn up tomorrow, it’s because I’ve succumbed to my current desire to smack Michael O’Farrell right between the eyes with a snow shovel.’

‘Be a shame to ruin a pretty face like that.’

‘Fair point. I’ll smack him in the back of the head instead.’

With that, I yanked my bag onto my shoulder and headed out the door.

Chapter Four

I rang the bell and heard the hurried thud of feet running down the stairs. A moment later I heard another thud, shortly followed by a few choice words before the door was pulled open. Michael O’Farrell stood there in a white T-shirt, faded jeans and bare feet, the right one of which he was holding up and rubbing.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked, as he mutely indicated me to step inside. ‘I thought I heard…something.’

‘Fine,’ he replied. He waited whilst I took off my coat and heels and then began heading towards the kitchen. I followed. ‘Would you like a drink? I’m making one anyway.’

My plan was to say no so that I could just get on with the task in hand but as he pressed the button on the coffee maker, buried amongst the junk on one of the work surfaces, the most delectable smell of coffee drifted out, melting my resolve in one tempting moment.

‘That would be very nice, thank you.’

He nodded and pulled another mug from a cupboard.

‘I saw that,’ he said, without turning.

‘Saw what?’

‘You raised your eyebrows in surprise that I actually got something out of a cupboard instead of just off the worktop.’

I really needed to work on my poker face.

‘You had your back to me. You have no idea what I did or didn’t do.’

‘I’ve eight nieces and nephews and spent a year teaching English in India. I’ve learned to have eyes in the back of my head.’

I rolled my eyes.

‘I saw that too.’

‘Oh, you did not.’

‘Boy. You’re bad at this game.’

I sucked in my cheeks and kept my mouth closed, as my eyes darted to the snow shovel leaning against the wall outside, next to the back door.

‘I’d get to it before you.’

‘Oh bloody hell!’ I burst out.

Michael’s face creased into a brief grin that faded as quickly as it had shown. ‘I can see why Janey likes you.’

I didn’t know what to say to that so I said nothing. But as the silence grew longer, my client seemed disinclined to fill it, happy, it seemed, just to lounge against the counter and drink his coffee. His gaze fell on me and the intensity of his eyes gave off the feeling that he could see much deeper than I was comfortable with. Which, of course, was ridiculous. I knew that. But still. I could also see why he was apparently never short of women to take up to his soulless bedroom. It wasn’t just the good looks. It was easy to see how those eyes and that gaze could be used to make you feel like you were the only person around, even in a room full of people. Or a bar full of alcohol.

‘What are you thinking?’

‘What?’ I asked, my voice coming out a little more squeaky than usual and colour flushing up my neck.

‘You had a very…interesting…expression on your face.’

I wasn’t sure what that meant but I did know I had absolutely no intention of telling my client that I’d been thinking about how easy it must be for him to pick up women in bars. I knew he’d just take it as a compliment. I’d hit myself in the back of the head with that snow shovel before I admitted to that.

‘I was just thinking about the best place to start.’

Michael drained his coffee mug, watching me over the rim. ‘Right,’ he said, giving me the distinct impression that he didn’t believe a word I’d just said.

‘And what did you decide?’

Thankfully I had actually been planning the best way to go about this particular case on the Tube on the way over so I had a quick answer ready.

‘I think the best thing to do is to start with your office. It’s obviously where you spend most of your time when you’re at home, and you told me yourself you find it difficult to locate anything quickly. Getting that into a better state will make it a better place to work and eliminate the stress of not being able to find things when you’re working to deadlines. If there’s anything work related in any of the other rooms, they need to come into your office now so that we can see exactly what we have.’

He gave me another of those assessing looks.

‘Who says it’s where I spend most of my time? You’re making me sound like some sort of workaholic.’

‘Which, according to Janey, is exactly what you are. And, whilst I can’t help with that, I can at least help you be one in a nicer space.’

‘I didn’t realise you and my sister had been discussing me quite so much.’

I pulled my notes out of bag and gave a little laugh. ‘Don’t worry. It was a very brief conversation when she asked me to do this with you. And she mentioned it again yesterday evening when you put her on speakerphone.’

‘So she did. And what else did she tell you?’

I headed out into the hallway and stepped over what looked like a piece of bike engine and hung my bag from one of the coat hooks on the wall.

‘Is that what you tripped over earlier?’ I asked, stepping back over the item again.