Bernie was on the phone to a client, swinging left to right in her red chair. It was her first time in again this week, and it was starting to grate. Gina was thinking about saying something after Bernie got off the phone, and was composing the script in her head.
“You don’t seem to have the same enthusiasm for the business as you once did. We’re nearly at the end of February, and I can count on my hands the number of times you’ve been in the office.” The only problem was, if Bernie withdrew her money, Gina would have to come up with the shortfall. It would involve going to a bank and that was never fun. Perhaps she could ask her family?
Her stomach turned. She dismissed that idea.
Gina chewed on the inside of her cheek. Perhaps it could wait.
Their buzzer went, breaking Gina’s thoughts. She glanced over at the intercom. They weren’t expecting anybody this afternoon, and they didn’t get many walk-ins off the street because their offices were on the first floor, with no signs in eye-level windows. Most of their clients were appointment-only, word-of-mouth references. The glut of online estate agents hadn’t made a dent in their portfolio. Their company, Hot London Properties, dealt in high-end gems that didn’t go to the mainstream sites. Customers who came to them wanted something a little different, and usually had bigger budgets to spend. Bigger budgets meant bigger commissions, so it was a win-win for everyone.
Gina pressed the intercom. “If you’re looking for SpecStars, it’s the next building along.” They often got lost customers for the wholesale opticians next door.
“No, it’s Hot London Properties I’m looking for. Am I in the right place?”
“You are. Come on up.” Gina pressed the buzzer and stood by the door, waiting for the woman with the plush accent to appear.
When she did, Gina had to concentrate on keeping a calm face. Whoever she was, money and class oozed off her. When this woman smiled, flashbulbs went off. She was beautiful, confident and comfortable in her own skin. Gina could tell that within seconds.
She was the kind of woman who made Gina’s mother click her tongue on the roof of her mouth.
She was also the kind of woman who made Gina’s heart beat that little bit faster. Just like it was now.
Beads the size of gobstoppers hung around her neck with gold, orange and yellow streaked through them. They sat atop a crisp pink shirt, which was matched with a navy-blue suit, tailor-made if Gina had to guess.
When she looked into the woman’s eyes, she was struck by their intensity, as well as their colour, a rich, swirling blue.
“India Contelli.” She held out a hand, an easy smile gracing her lips. India’s fingers were long and slim, adorned with more bling than Gina had seen in a while.
Gina shook it.
India’s grip was sure, like she’d never doubted it in her life.
“Gina Gupta, pleased to meet you.” Gina held India’s hand, a flicker of something in her chest, before ushering her to the sofa area opposite. “Can I get you a coffee?”
India shook her head. “No thanks. I’m here because Frankie Stark recommended you. She gave me your details a couple of weeks ago actually, but I’ve been busy.” India glanced over at Bernie, then back at Gina. “Do you have time for a quick chat?”
Gina settled beside India. “Sure. Any friend of Frankie’s is a friend of mine.” Gina’s brain processed this new information, trying to make sense of it. A friend of Frankie’s. Did that mean India was gay? That put a whole new spin on India Contelli. Her face rang a bell, but that was probably because Gina would have seen her at one of the myriad of gay women’s networking events she attended. Gina turned up at them religiously, as they were good for seeking out potential clients. Plus, she lived in hope she might meet someone interesting, someone who got her. She’d met Sara at one such event on the South Bank, but that hadn’t panned out quite as she’d hoped.
“Are you looking to buy a property?”
“Yes. I want—”
“India Contelli?” Bernie interrupted their conversation, walking up and extending a hand.
India looked up, frowning.
“It is you! I was just over there wondering, but I thought I’d come and say hi. Wow, a real-life celebrity in our midst.”
India stood up and shook hands with Bernie, her height matching Gina’s partner’s. Gina glanced down at India’s feet — she was wearing impressive heels. Not many people matched Bernie.
“You know each other?” Gina was confused.
“We do not, but I watch India’s TV show. Shop Wars, right?” Bernie glanced at Gina. “India visits failing retail empires and tells them what to do to get back on track.”
India sat down. “Guilty as charged.”
“I love your show!” Bernie gushed.
Gina gave her a look.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your chat. Are you after a property?”
“I am,” India replied.
“Wonderful!” Bernie raised an eyebrow. “You’re in perfect hands with Gina.”
Gina waited until Bernie was back at her desk before she began talking again. “I don’t watch much telly, so sorry, I don’t know who you are.”
“Believe it or not, I prefer that. Most people get a bit intimidated by TV stars. I see myself as more of a business person who’s occasionally on TV.”
“What line of business are you in?”
“I run a company called Stable Foods, and we’re most famous for our biscuits. That’s my day job. Celebrity kind of punched me in the face when I wasn’t looking.”
“Sounds painful.” Gina should watch more TV. Her mum would probably know who India was. Her favourite pastime outside cooking and gossiping was watching TV. Being Indian, she’d also think her name was ridiculous. “Which do you prefer? Biscuits or fame?”
India gave her a look. “Biscuits, of course.”
Gina smiled. “The only sane answer.” She sat up. “So, what are you looking for?”
“That’s a big question.” India quirked an eyebrow.
“In a property,” Gina clarified with a smile. “Flat? House?”
“Probably a flat. Two bedrooms, light and airy. I love rooftops, so if it’s got a rooftop view, I’m sold. Also, I work fairly often in Southwark, so not too far from there. It’s where I’m living right now.”
The Shad Thames flat sprinted to the front of Gina’s brain. It could be the perfect solution. India must have money, and the price had just come down after two months on the market. Gina had failed to sell it during February, despite her best efforts. Perhaps next month would prove more fruitful. “I have just the place. It’s only a five-minute walk from here, it’s got a balcony with views and a roof terrace. It all depends on your budget.”
“My budget’s flexible for the right property.” India paused. “I’d love to see whatever you’ve got with that criteria. I want to be in zone one, near the river. This area is great.” India gave her a smile, showing off rows of perfect teeth.
Her budget was flexible. How Gina would love to be able to say that. However, an accidental TV star had fallen into her lap and might be able to take the Shad Thames property off her hands and, in the process, make her a handsome profit.
Gina was going to do everything in her power to make sure India Contelli liked what she had to offer.