With Love From London

CHAPTER SIX

‘HELLO? IS ANYONE THERE?’

Nicole went in search of the voice, to discover a man standing in the entrance to the cinema, holding a metal box of tools.

‘Are you Nicole Thomas?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘I’m Kyle. The boss wants me to do a quick check on your wiring.’

‘Boss?’ Did he mean Gabriel? But she hadn’t asked Gabriel for help—and this felt a bit as if he was trying to take over.

She thought quickly to find a polite way to refuse, and it clearly showed on her face because Kyle said, ‘The boss said you’d tell me thank you but you don’t need any help, and he says to tell you he wants me to check your wiring’s OK to make sure this place doesn’t burn down and set his hotel on fire.’

It was a comment that Gabriel had made before. It wasn’t something she could counter easily, and this would either reassure her or be an early warning of difficulties to come. Plus it wasn’t Kyle’s fault that Gabriel made her antsy. She smiled at him. ‘OK. Thank you. Can I offer you a coffee? I’m sorry, I don’t have any milk or sugar.’

‘You’re all right. I just had my tea break next door.’

‘Right. Um, I guess I need to show you where the fuse box is, to start with?’

‘That, and I’ll check a few of the sockets to be on the safe side.’

She showed him where the fuse box was, and left him to get on with it.

He came to find her when he’d finished. ‘There’s good news and bad,’ he said.

‘Tell me the bad, first,’ she said.

‘You’ve got a bit of mouse damage to some of the cabling around the fuse box, because it was an area they could get to.’

‘Will it take long to fix?’

He shook his head. ‘And the good news is the wiring’s been redone at some point in the last thirty years. You haven’t got any aluminium cable, lead-sheathed cable or the old black cables with a rubber sheath which would mean it was really old and could burn the place down. I would recommend getting a full system check, though, when you get that little bit of cabling replaced.’

‘Thank you. That’s good to know. I appreciate your help.’

‘No worries.’ He sketched a salute and left.

Nicole made a mental note to call in to the hotel later that afternoon with a tin of chocolate biscuits to say thanks. Though she knew who she really needed to thank. Strictly speaking, it was interference, but she knew Gabriel had only done it to help—and he’d dressed it in a way that meant she could accept it. She grabbed her phone and called him. ‘Thank you for sending over your electrician.’

‘Pleasure. So you didn’t send him away with a flea in his ear?’ Gabriel asked.

‘You kind of pre-empted me on that.’

‘Ah, the “I don’t want you to set my hotel on fire” thing. And it’s true. Total self-interest on my part.’ He laughed. ‘So how is the wiring?’

‘Apparently there’s a bit of mouse damage so I’ll need to replace some of the cabling, but the good news is that it’s modern cable so I’m not looking at a total rewire.’

‘That’s great. Have you sorted out a surveyor yet?’

‘I have three names.’ Though she knew she was working quite a way out of her experience zone. Although she wanted to keep her independence and sort out everything herself, was that really the right thing for her business? It would be sensible to ask for advice from someone who knew that area—like Gabriel—instead of being too proud and then making a mistake that could jeopardise the cinema. Asking for help would be pragmatic, not weak. Suggesting they got together to talk about it wasn’t the same as suggesting a date. And it wasn’t just an excuse to see him. It really wasn’t, she told herself firmly. She wasn’t going to let her attraction to him derail the cinema restoration project. She cleared her throat. ‘I was wondering if maybe I could buy you a coffee and run the names by you.’

‘Strictly speaking, I’m the one beholden to you and ought to be the one buying the coffee. You paid for dinner last night,’ he reminded her.

‘You paid for coffee twice. I still owe you coffee twice.’

‘In which case I owe you dinner. When are you free?’

Help. That felt much more like a date. And she wasn’t ready. ‘Let’s focus on the coffee,’ she said. ‘When are you at the hotel next?’

‘About half-past two this afternoon.’

‘The perfect time for a coffee break. See you then.’

And it was as easy as that. She knew how he liked his coffee. She also knew he had a weakness for chocolate brownies, as long as it was dark chocolate. So, at twenty-nine minutes past two, Nicole walked in to the building site next door with two espressos, two brownies and a tin of chocolate biscuits, and asked the first person she saw to point her in the direction of Gabriel Hunter.

He was in a room which was clearly earmarked as a future office, and he was on the phone when she arrived; he lifted his hand in acknowledgement, and she waited in the corridor until he’d finished the call, to give him some privacy.

‘Good to see you, Nicole,’ he said.

Was that Clarence talking, or Gabriel the shark-in-a-suit? ‘Coffee and a brownie,’ she said, handing them over. ‘And these biscuits are for Kyle, your electrician. To say thank you for checking out my wiring.’

‘I’ll make sure he gets them. And thank you for the coffee. Having a good day?’ he asked, smiling at her.

That definitely sounded more like Clarence speaking. And the way he smiled made her stomach flip. With a real effort, Nicole forced herself to focus on business. ‘Yes. How about you?’

He shrugged. ‘It is as it is.’

His eyes really were beautiful. So was his mouth. It would be so very, very easy to reach out and trace his lower lip with her fingertip…

And it would also be insane. To distract herself, Nicole muttered, ‘As I said, I’ve got to the stage where I need a surveyor and quotes from builders.’

‘Obviously you know to add at least ten per cent to any quote, because with a renovation job you’re always going to come across something you don’t expect that will need fixing,’ he said. ‘And to allow extra time for unexpected delays as well. Even if you’ve had a survey done first, you’re bound to come across something that will affect your schedule.’

‘If the building is structurally sound, then I want the cinema up and running in eight weeks.’

‘Eight weeks?’ He looked shocked. ‘Isn’t that a bit fast?’

‘It’s the start of the school holidays,’ she said. ‘And it’s always good to have a goal to work towards rather than being vague about things. That way you can plan and actually accomplish something instead of delivering nothing but hot air.’

‘True.’ He blew out a breath. ‘But eight weeks is a big ask. Even if the place is structurally sound, it needs complete redecoration, you’ve got to sort out the fixtures and fittings, and there’s no way you’ll be able to do anything at all with the upstairs room until the ceiling’s been sorted, not with that lead paint.’ He frowned. ‘I was thinking, that’s probably why your grandfather used it as a storage room.’

‘Because it would be too expensive to fix it, or it would take too much time?’

‘Either or both,’ he said. ‘Just bear in mind you might not be able to have the whole building up and running at once. You might have to scale back to something more doable—say, start with the downstairs screen and kiosk refreshments only.’

Which would mean a lower income. And Nicole needed the place to make a decent profit, because she knew now that she really didn’t want to go back to the bank. She wasn’t afraid of hard work or long hours; she’d do whatever it took to make a go of the Electric Palace. But now she wanted to put the hours in for herself, not for a corporation that barely knew her name. ‘I’m opening in eight weeks,’ she said stubbornly.

‘Where’s your list of surveyors?’ he asked.

‘Here.’ She flicked into the notes app on her phone and handed it to him.

He looked through the list. ‘The first one’s good, the second will cancel on you half a dozen times because he always overbooks himself, and the third is fine. I always like to get three quotes, so do you want the name of the guy I use, to replace the one who won’t make it?’

‘I’m eating humble pie already, aren’t I?’ she pointed out.

‘Strictly speaking, you’re eating a dark chocolate brownie,’ he said, ‘which you paid for. So no.’ He sighed. ‘OK. Would you have let Clarence help?’

She nodded.

‘Say it out loud,’ he said.

She would’ve done the same and made him admit it aloud, too. She gave in. ‘Yes. I would’ve accepted help from Clarence.’

‘Well, then. I thought we agreed at dinner that we’re not on opposite sides?’

‘We didn’t really agree anything.’

‘Hmm.’ He added a set of contact details to her list and handed the phone back. ‘I’d say from your old job that you’d be good at summing people up. Talk to all of them and go with the one your instinct tells you is right for the job.’

He wasn’t pushing his guy first? So maybe he really was fair, rather than ruthless. Maybe she could trust him. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘Pleasure.’ He paused. ‘What about builders?’

‘I was going to ask the surveyor for recommendations.’

‘That’s a good idea.’ He looked her straight in the eye. ‘Though, again, I can give you contact details if you’d like them. I know you don’t want to feel as if you owe me anything, but a recommendation from someone you know is worth a dozen testimonials from people you don’t.’

‘True.’

‘And I wouldn’t give you the name of someone who was unreliable or slapdash. Because that would affect my reputation,’ he said.

She believed him. At least, on a business footing. Any other trust was out of her ability, right now.

‘While you’re here, do you want to see round the place?’ he asked.

‘You’re going to give me a tour of the hotel?’

‘Fair’s fair—I made you give me a tour of the cinema,’ he pointed out.

She smiled. ‘That would be nice.’

The walls were made of the same mellow honey-coloured brick as her flat. She noticed that the ceilings of the rooms were all high.

‘So this was an industrial complex before?’ she asked.

‘It was a spice warehouse,’ he said, ‘so we’re naming all the function rooms accordingly. Cinnamon, coriander, caraway…’

‘Sticking to the Cs?’

He laughed. ‘I was thinking about maybe using a different letter on each floor. And I’m toying with “The Spice House” as our hotel name.’

‘That might get you mixed up with a culinary supplier or an Indian restaurant,’ she said.

‘I’m still thinking about it,’ he said.

‘So this is a business hotel?’

One without the exclusive parking they’d planned originally. Instead, next door would be the cinema. And if Nicole would agree to keep the upper room as a flexible space and not just a fixed second screen, maybe there was a way they could work together. Something for the leisure side and not just the conference stuff she’d resisted earlier. Something that also might make his father finally see that Gabriel had vision and could be trusted with the future direction of the business.

‘Business and leisure, mixed,’ he said. ‘We’ll have a hundred and twenty-five bedrooms—that’s twenty-five per floor on the top five floors—plus conference facilities on the first floor. We’ll have meeting rooms with all the communications and connections our clients need, and a breakout area for networking or receptions. I want to be able to offer my clients everything from training and team-building events through to seminars and product launches. That’s on the business side. On the leisure side, we can offer wedding receptions. I’m getting a licence so we can hold civil ceremonies here, too.’ He paused. ‘Though I’ve been thinking. Maybe you should be the one to get the wedding licence.’

‘Me?’ She looked surprised. ‘You think people would want to get married in a cinema?’

‘They’d want to get married in your upstairs room, especially if you’re going to do the ceiling the way you described it to me,’ he said. ‘And that sweeping staircase would look amazing in wedding photos. The bride and groom, with the train of the bride’s dress spread out over the stairs, or all the guests lined up on the stairs and leaning on that wrought iron banister—which would look great painted gold to match the stars on the ceiling.’

‘So they’d have the wedding at the cinema, then go next door to you for the reception?’

‘For the meal, yes. And then the upper room could turn back into a ballroom, if you wanted, with the bar next door or a temporary bar set up from the hotel if that’s easier. Between us, we’d be able to offer a complete wedding package. The hotel has a honeymoon suite with a modern four-poster, and a health club and spa so we can offer beauty treatments. The morning of the wedding, we could do hair and make-up for the bride, attendants and anyone else in the wedding party. And maybe we could have a special movie screening, the next morning—something for the kids in the wedding party, perhaps?’

Working together.

Could it really be that easy?

‘It’s a possibility,’ she said. ‘But I want to think about it before I make any decision.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘So what else is in your health club and spa, apart from a hairdresser and beautician?’

‘A heated pool, a gym with optional personal training packages, a sauna, steam room and whirlpool bath.’ He ticked them off on his fingers. ‘It’s open to non-residents, like our restaurant.’

‘And, being The Spice House, you’ll specialise in spicy food?’

‘Not necessarily, though we might have themed specials.’ He smiled. ‘The food will be locally sourced as far as possible, with seasonal menus. So far, it’s all pretty standard stuff and I’d like to be able to offer our clients something a bit different, too, but I need to sit down and think about it.’

‘If you want to brainstorm,’ she said, ‘and you want to bounce ideas off—well, your neighbour…’ The words were out before she could stop them.

‘I’d like that,’ he said. ‘We came up with some good stuff between us about the cinema. And we’ve barely scratched the surface there.’

Georgygirl and Clarence. Their old friendship, which was in abeyance right now while she got her head round the fact that her friend was actually her business rival.

Could they transfer that friendship to a working relationship?

It would mean trusting him.

Baby steps, she reminded herself. She just needed to spend a little more time with him. Work out if he really was the same in real life as he’d been privately with her online.

He showed her round the rest of the hotel, then introduced her to his site manager. ‘If anything crops up next door,’ he said, ‘come and see Ray.’

‘If I don’t know the answer myself,’ Ray said, ‘I’ll know someone who does and can help sort it out for you.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, shaking Ray’s hand and liking how his handshake was firm without being overbearing.

Gabriel walked her to the door. ‘Well, good luck with the surveyors and what have you. Let me know how you get on.’

‘I will.’

For a moment, she thought he was going to lean forward and kiss her, and her heart actually skipped a beat.

But instead he held out his hand to shake hers.

Her skin tingled where he touched her. And she didn’t dare look him in the eye, because she didn’t want him to know what kind of effect he had on her. Besides, hadn’t Jeff’s mistress called her a cold fish? And Gabriel had dated a lot of women. Beautiful women. Passionate women. Way, way out of her league. Her confidence sank that little bit more.

‘See you later,’ she muttered, and fled.

When Nicole spoke to the surveyors, she found that Gabriel had been right on the money. The first one was booked up for the next few weeks, the second agreed to drop round that afternoon but then texted her half an hour later to cancel, the third could make it the following week, and the guy that Gabriel had recommended was able to see her first thing the next morning. Better still, he promised to have the report ready by the end of business that day.

It suited her timescale, but Nicole had the distinct feeling that Gabriel had called in a favour or two on her behalf. She couldn’t exactly ask the surveyor if that was the case, and she felt it’d be mean-spirited to ask Gabriel himself—it would sound accusatory rather than grateful.

But there was something she could do.

She texted him.

Hey. You busy tomorrow night?

Why?

She really hoped this sounded casual.

Thought I could buy you dinner.

Absolutely not. I still owe you dinner.

But this is dinner with strings.

Ah. Dinner with strings?

She backed off.

OK. Sorry I asked.

Gabriel looked at the text and sighed. He hadn’t meant to sound snippy at all. He’d been teasing her. That was the thing about texting: you couldn’t pick up the tone.

He flicked into his contacts screen and called her. ‘What are the strings, Nicole?’

‘Builder names,’ she said.

‘You don’t have to buy me dinner for that.’

‘Yes, I do.’

Was this Nicole’s way of saying she wanted to spend time with him but without admitting it? he wondered. But he knew he was just as bad. He wanted to spend time with her, too, but didn’t want to admit it to her. ‘Dinner would be fine. What time?’

‘Seven? I thought maybe we could go to the pizza place just down from the café in Challoner Road. Meet you there?’

‘Fine. Want a lift?’

‘I’ll meet you there,’ she repeated.

Nicole and her over-developed sense of independence, he thought with an inward sigh. ‘OK. See you at seven.’

She was already there waiting for him when he walked into the pizzeria at precisely one minute to seven, the next evening. She was wearing a pretty, summery dress and he was tempted to tell her how nice she looked, but he didn’t want to make her back away. Instead, he asked, ‘How did the survey go?’

‘Remarkably quickly. Considering that normally people are booked up for at least a week in advance, and it takes several days to do a survey report, it’s amazing that your guy not only managed to fit me in this morning,’ she said, ‘he also emailed me the report at the close of business this afternoon.’

Oh. So she’d picked up the fact that he’d called in a favour. Well, of course she would. She was bright. ‘Remarkable,’ he said coolly.

‘Incredibly remarkable,’ she said, ‘which is why I’m buying you dinner to say thank you for whatever favours you called in on my behalf. And I’ve already given the waiter my card, so you can’t—’

He laughed, and she stopped. ‘What?’

‘You’re such a control freak,’ he said.

‘No, I’m not.’ She folded her arms in the classic defensive posture. ‘I just don’t want to—’

‘—be beholden to me,’ he finished. ‘Is that what your ex did?’

She flushed. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Something had made her super-independent, and he had a feeling that there was a man involved. A man who’d broken her trust so she didn’t date any more? ‘Everything came with strings?’ he asked softly.