The Little Lady Agency in the Big Apple

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  • Edition: Reprint
  • Format: Paperback
  • Copyright: 2008-11-25
  • Publisher: Pocket Star
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The owner of Londons premiere freelance girlfriend agency crosses the pond, in bestselling author Brownes second sparkling romantic comedy featuring the heroine of "The Little Lady Agency."


OneMy name is Melissa Romney-Jones, but between the hours of nine and five you can call me Honey.That's when I'm at work, running the Little Lady Agency, London's premier freelance girlfriend service. During office hours, I'm Honey Blennerhesket, queen of scruffy bachelors and scourge of slacking domestics. The Little Lady Agency, my very own business, is the first port of call for hopeless single chaps who need to borrow a woman's expertise for the afternoon. You'd be astounded how many of them there are.It's not, I should stress, as racy as it sounds, but it has completely changed my outlook on men, in more ways than one. As it says on my business cards, I offer -- or, rather, Honey offers -- every girlfriend service a man could need, except sex and laundry. Aside from that, I'll tackle anything, no matter how random or daunting, and it certainly keeps me busy. In the last year, for instance, I've advised on the purchase of hundreds of suits; put a couple of would-be grannies right off the idea of grandchildren; helped break off five engagements and assisted nine marriage proposals; salvaged three flats after three wild parties; bought stacks of godparent gifts; sent thousands of roses to spouses, secretaries, sisters, and secret girlfriends; and generally acted as the invisible woman most men need to keep them on the straight and narrow.You're probably wondering why I can't just do all this as Melissa. Well, there are several very good reasons for that.First of all, if the name Romney-Jones seems familiar, it's because my father, Martin, is the only Member of Parliament to have survived no fewer than four separate political scandals (two tax, one sex, and something murky involving an EU cheese producer in Luxembourg that I've never quite gotten to the bottom of ). When I started my business, I didn't want him to find out what I was up to, and now that things are working out rather well, I don't want him cashing in.Secondly, if I'm being honest, in real life I'm a complete pushover, ground down by years of merciless advantage-taking by Daddy and the rest of my horrendously selfish family. So I found that creating bossy, supergroomed Honey sort of gives me permission to put my foot down where I'd normally fear to tread. Honey has much better shoes than I do, for a start. Most of them are stilettos, to go with the fitted pencil skirts and devastating bombshell sweaters I wear for work, and Honey's not afraid to stamp those stilettos when she needs to get results. Rather hard, too, if the situation demands. Sometimes I don't even notice the blisters till I get home. Plus, to be honest, there's something kind of sexy about being Honey. She never rounds her shoulders to hide her ample cleavage or worries about how she looks from behind. And I never realized that wearing stockings for work would have such startling effects on my out-of-office life....Ahem. Anyway...Thirdly? Well, everyone likes to be able to clock off at the end of the day, don't they? When you've spent hours ironing out endless male problems, it's nice to be able to walk away from them. And I do walk away. In dress-down Melissa's comfortable flats.Quite apart from the delicious wardrobe, I absolutely love my work. No one can sack me, for one thing. Up until I started the agency, my CV comprised five personal assistant positions in five different estate agencies and one unfortunate spell working for my old home economics teacher, who,as I found out at my own expense, wasn't quite the lady I thought she was. Let's just say that when I escort a man to dinner, I don't expect to be the pudding course. But ironically enough, it was wearing Mrs. McKinnon's prescribed corset (and the blond wig I used as a disguise) that unleashed the straight-talking, wiggly walking force of nature that is Honey Blennerhesket, so I suppose I have something to thank Mrs. McKinnon for. I like to look on the bright side l

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