Michael
The afternoon is going well, very well.
Beth and Richard have delivered as promised and many of the wealthiest names in the City are parking Mercs, Limos and Ferraris outside. In the private space inside my skull, I’m easing up estimates of booking numbers.
And Charlotte is being an absolute star. I’d thought she might be nervous. In fact, I know she’s nervous, but she’s keeping a smile on her face while making small talk with even the most dreadful of the guests and I hear odd phrases of, “What a lovely girl”, and “They’re just married you know…”
Richard gestures me across. “Michael, this is Mayor Vandervoort. His wife Veronica is thinking of booking one of your spa breaks, but she was enquiring about the self-defence courses you’re offering to the ladies.”
There is a murmur
