CHAPTER 30
WHEN NICK SAID he was staying at a friend’s place, I’d imagined an apartment somewhere, albeit a reasonably upscale one. But twenty minutes later, the cab pulled up outside a freaking mansion. I didn’t know a whole lot about London property prices, but it had to be worth millions.
The entrance hall was bigger than my whole home and done out in cream with a huge multi-coloured glass chandelier hanging in the middle. That was a work of art in its own right. Staircases swept up both sides, and Nick took the right-hand one, leading me to the third floor.
“My room’s this one. All the others on this landing are empty, so pick whichever you prefer.”
I opened each door in turn. This was voyeurism meets HGTV—property porn at its finest.
Did people actually use these bedrooms? They l
