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Chapter 2

I take a deep breath as I step off the lift and head through the double glass doors of Peterson Michaels which is where I work; they're a company of interior designers and whilst that is what I am trained for I took the job here on reception because I needed the cash, but also because Mr Peterson assured me that there would be opportunities for me to work in interior design, however eighteen months later I am a permanent fixture on reception and design jobs total zero, although I have done a few jobs on the side, mainly for friends of friends, but it's not the same as doing it as a real job.

I throw my bag under the reception desk and then head to the coffee machine, at least the coffee is complimentary and this will be my first cup as my companion this morning made me so uncomfortable that I could barely breathe never mind drink coffee.

Returning to my desk I am beginning to chicken out of the decision I made in the shower this morning, the one where I go charging into Mr Peterson to demand that he keeps to his word and allows me to build some design experience and then the phone rings.

"Hello, Peterson Michaels, how may I help you?" I answer as I take my seat.

Sean, a real interior designer saunters in and waves at me with a big smile on his face. Sean is pretty gorgeous, tall, blonde and bronzed but a little too perfect for me, not quite rugged enough, not that any of that stopped me dating him briefly, very briefly, about half a dozen dates over a couple of weeks when Brad and I were having some space, but when I didn't shag him in that time he realised I wasn't the girl for him and that was fine, we're just friendly colleagues really.

The woman ranting in my ear is pissing me off in my semi hungover state as she tells me that the design work done on the sun room in her five million pound mansion is a disgrace; apparently when her design remit was described by her as 'give me sunshine' she hadn't meant literally, unfortunately it would appear that she hadn't told Cathy, the designer that and she had used lots of yellows and oranges. I am struggling to stifle a giggle until she says,

"You see dear, I expected a sedate room that made me warm and relaxed, as the sun does, not to feel as though I have entered the ninth circle of hell!" says Mrs Tyrell who is a regular customer and loaded, seriously, like richer than God but her favourite designer, Ronaldo has left having fallen in love with an Italian that he's followed back to Milan.

"I love Dante's Inferno," I tell her for no reason I know, this could go horribly wrong because she, Mrs Tyrell is a bit awkward at times and can be more than a little testy when the mood takes her, but I do love Dante's Inferno and I like the fact that she knows it. "Although from what you're saying you probably only have the yellow face of Satan in that room, maybe the red one too," I say, finally giving in to laughter, laughter she actually joins in with.

"I demand to speak to Christian, Mr Peterson! I expect a full refund and a reworking of my room," she tells me as I roll my eyes in Sean's direction.

"Let me just check if Mr Peterson is available for you Mrs Tyrell," I say bringing his online diary up on my screen. While I wait for it to load I ask her, "How's Mr Tyrell?" I do it as a time filler but also because he calms her down, the subject of him, she loves him, adores him that much is clear from the way she speaks about him.

"Oh aren't you a sweet girl," she coos down the line meaning both of my objectives in using his name have been achieved.

I allow her to continue talking as the diary appears on my screen showing nothing at all for my boss until almost noon, meaning he should be free, but as Mrs Tyrell is in full flow I allow her to continue.

I recall that she is an attractive woman in her mid-fifties with highlighted hair and blue eyes. I remember seeing her, the first and only time when Ronaldo was leaving and was shocked at how in condition she was, still is, obviously a gym bunny, or more likely has a personal trainer on the payroll.