Page 129 of Love ad Lib
Eighty thousand pounds on abed? You could buy a house for that in some parts of the country. She couldn’t wrap her head around such excess when to her, every penny mattered. She was on her way back to Claire’s sofa and the task of running improv nights and workshops without her best friend and business partner. The enormity of it all sat like a weight in her chest.
She loved the spontaneity of improv, the way her brain threw her into a flow state running at warp speed. But it was the other side of the business, the admin and marketing, that she wasn’t good at. She’d joined Claire’s business, rather than the two of them setting it up from scratch. As such, her friend had always done those jobs. But now it was down to her and she didn’t know where to start.
‘Do you like animals?’ Henry asked.
She lifted an eyebrow. ‘To eat, or just in general?’
He smirked. ‘As apet. Have you ever wanted one?’
‘One day, maybe. Probably a cat. Why?’
He cleared his throat. ‘My other best friend, Jack, the one who lives abroad, needs a cat-sitter.’
‘Where? In the south of France?’
‘Oh no. At his flat in London.’
Libby stared across at him, utterly confused. ‘He lives in France but keeps a houseanda cat in London?’
‘He comes back occasionally so uses the flat as a bolt hole.’
‘And the cat?’
He shrugged. ‘I think he likes the company.’
‘And hepayssomeone to what, go in and feed it twice a day?’
‘Er, no. He pays people to stay in the flat when he’s not there.’
‘Seriously? Is he like Dr Evil levels of rich and insane?’
Henry laughed. ‘I don’t know about the money, but he’s not nuts.’
‘What’s his job?’
His forehead creased. ‘Something to do with the hospitality industry? Putting on big events and parties? I think that’s it.’
‘He’s your best friend and you don’t know what he does to afford a flat and live-in cat sitter?’
‘Well, in fairness, I don’t think he knows what I do either. If you asked him, he’d probably just say I’m a City wanker.’
She grinned. ‘So, why are you telling me this?’
He cleared his throat again. ‘He rang the other day and asked if I would do it. He usually uses an agency but the person they’d lined up pulled out. I was thinking I could recommend you for the job instead.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. You’d be paid to live in his flat. You could come and go as you please, so you’d be able to work as normal.’
Oh my god. Somewhere to live and awagefor doing so?
‘Where’s the flat?
‘Soho.’
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!Was this for real?
‘What’s the catch?’
