Golden Luckenbooth

Forty-Eight

"Bloody hell!" I exclaim as we drive through the manor gates and onto the grounds of an even larger building than we'd stayed in at Christmas with our families. "This is practically palatial!"

"Eh. It's a place to work. That's all," Harry laughs.

"No, no, no. This is — woah. I can't even..."

After we park in the circular drive, we're greeted at the door by a young woman. "My PA," Harry mutters.

"PA?"

"Personal Assistant. Come meet her." His words are quiet, and it occurs to me that he's embarrassed. By the fact that he has a PA or that he never mentioned her to me, I have no idea which.

Of course he has a personal assistant. Did I really think he did everything on his own? Or that his managers did it all for him?

Or that he found and rented this manor on his own?

Of course not. He has 'people'.

Silly me.

His embarrassment is endearing, and I choose not to rib him about having a PA or not telling me.

Grabbing my handbag from the car, I exit, closing the door behind me. Already, I miss my pups who we've left with my parents. And I'm worried about how Arran will do on his own.

It's only a little over 48 hours, you eejit. Not a lifetime. Everyone will be fine without you. You have to start trusting people to help.

Pasting a smile on my face, I approach the woman before us. She's dressed practically, with blue jeans and a hoodie with my boyfriend's first name emblazoned over her heart. Her hair is way more organised than mine, her waves tame and perfect, even in the light breeze. With rounded cheeks and a Grecian nose, she's an unconventional beauty.

"Good evening! You must be Dr. Anna. I'm Emma" She holds her right hand out to me, and I grasp it, expecting a flimsy handshake where our fingers touch briefly before sliding away. To my surprise, her grip is firm, encompassing my entire palm. "My apologies in advance for any details I've gotten wrong."

My laugh is rich and honest. "Let's be clear. If there are any details you got wrong, Emma, it's because Harry gave you incorrect information." My hopefully subtle glance at her ring finger reveals a wedding band, and I sigh internally with relief.

With a sideways glance at the man in question, Emma grins. "In my line of work, the client is always right."

I wrap her in a quick hug, overwhelmed with joy at how unpretentious she is. "Please. We both know that he would never hire someone just to swell his ego. You must be part of the crowd who keeps his feet tethered to earth; therefore, I am eternally grateful for you." Bowing slightly at the waist, I offer tribute to the tightrope she must walk to work for someone like Harry.

"Oh, I like this one." Emma turns to Harry, embracing him.

He laughs heartily as his arms wrap around her, and her nose nuzzles into his neck before she presses a kiss to his cheek.

"Come on in. I want to show you the important things before I escape and leave you alone." She escorts us into an entryway with a grand staircase that leads to a landing that subsequently branches in two directions.

I feel like I'm in a princess movie.

Emma waves her hand towards the right. "Your room is over there. It's the master, and it's enormous. We'll go up in a minute so I can show you how the heat works and how I've organised the wardrobe."

Wardrobe?

I had packed a small overnight bag, but when I asked Harry about his clothes, he shrugged. "Not an issue." At the time, I had no idea what that meant, but I am starting to get the picture now. Why bother packing when you have a PA to do it for you?