Wanted: White Wedding
Freya bit down hard on the expletive hovering on the tip of her tongue and called again, her eyes raking the rows of old sofas and chests of drawers. 'Hello?'There was still no answer. No sound of anything in the cavernous building except the clip of her heels on the concrete floor. 'Mr Ramsay? Anyone? Anyone at all?'She came to a stop and looked back across the auction house.
She sucked in her breath and spun round to look again at the long line of caged cupboards piled high with knick-knacks. Where was everyone? The entire place was deserted.
Freya tucked her hands further into the depths of her sheepskin jacket and stamped her feet to get warmth back into her frozen toes. This was such a crazy way of doing business. There had to be someone whose job it was to speak to people like her. A porter? Wasn't that the way it worked?
She hadn't expected anything like Sotheby's or Christie's in a place like Fellingham, but this was plain ridiculous. Left to herself, she'd walk straight back out of here—and a casual trawl through the telephone directory would, no doubt, produce any number of more promising alternatives.
Except…
Her almost habitual frow ... read full excerpt from Wanted: White Wedding ebook
