Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
In my twenty years living on Crompton, he had never been right, but it didn’t stop a wind of uncertainty blowing through the staff when Basil started muttering about the estate being sold, which he did from time to time.
“Because you’re overdosing on sugar? And for the record, it’s not like I never have sex.”
“Oh, I forgot how you regularly date. There’s a positive trail of your conquests throughout Cambridgeshire.”
I wince a little at her words. Not because they’re true, or because she’s hurt my feelings … more because my lack of a social life obviously isn’t as inconspicuous as I thought. Truly, though—I don’t need to date. I have everything I could ever want in my life. I don’t need a man. “I didn’t say it was regular, but the fact I had sex last night isn’t reason to think the moon has been thrown out of our orbit or something.”
“Maybe. But do you think Crompton is being sold?”
I try and give an unbothered laugh but end up snorting. “No,” I say, with a dismissive wave. “Of course it’s not. There are always rumors.”
“There are always rumors because the earl clearly can’t afford the place. Rio says he had to attach plastic bags to the roof of the orangery last week because there was a leak.”
“So?” That sounds like a practical solution to the problem. “I’m sure it’s just a temporary thing until they can bring someone in to fix it. Rio is a handyman, not an orangery specialist.”
Meghan unzips her jacket. “If it did sell, it wouldn’t affect the pub, would it? I heard it’s got a long lease on that land.”
“Crompton is not for sale. No way would the earl part with it.”
“He’s not going to live forever. Even if Basil’s wrong this time, eventually the Crompton Estate will be sold. There’s no heir. No children for him to pass it down to.”
The idea turns my blood to ice. I can’t bear to think about Crompton being owned by someone other than the earl. Crompton is my home. My life. The culmination of all my childhood dreams. I like things just how they are.
Basil is just being Basil.
Crompton hasn’t changed since my grandmother and grandfather started working here forty years ago. Even through the seasons, the shifts are gentle and expected, blending into each other like the watercolors of a painting. Life at Crompton is an immoveable rock that weathers every shift, every obstacle, and comes out looking just as it always has. It’s part of the reason I love it here so much—the consistent reliability, the expectedness of everything, the lack of change. Basil can spout all the doom and gloom prophecies he likes; the Crompton Estate isn’t going anywhere.
EIGHT
Vincent
Working remotely, all participants in a meeting on the screen in front of me, isn’t something I started during the pandemic. I’ve always worked this way. Yes, I have an office in New York and some staff are based there. But I work wherever I am. And at the moment, I am in London. That means my office is in London as well.
I have a view of Hyde Park from my preferred penthouse suite at the Four Seasons on Park Lane, which makes a perfect backdrop for any meeting. It’s a little different from my room at the Golden Hare in Crompton. Flashes of memory from the night I spent there with Kate cross my mind. She was beautiful.
“What I want at the end of this meeting is first to understand if Crompton is financially viable. And if it is, I want to know what our opening offer is,” I say to Jason, my chief financial officer. I know from experience he’s sitting at the board table in the New York office, his team around him so we can make a quick decision. He knows I don’t want to have to wait for him to check x, y, and z with his people. I’m going to want the answer during this meeting.
“We’ve had numbers in from the team overnight,” he says. “Although the architects have a huge range, depending on our instructions. The same goes for the building surveyor and the head contractor.”
“That’s understandable,” I say. “I just want you to run a sensitivity analysis to understand our best- and worst-case scenarios.”
Jason falls silent, which is what he always does when he thinks I’m not understanding what he’s saying. But I do understand.
“I get the profit numbers depend on the number of rooms. And that impacts the building costs.”
“Yes,” he says. “You need to make a decision on number of rooms today. Without seeing the final drawings from the architect.”
“But we need square footage of each room before we can decide,” I say. “And these guys are the best. They’ve worked with all the five-star hotel brands around the world. Let’s get them up on screen. I want to hear what they’ve got to say. Let’s bring the designer and the contractor into this too.”