February 16th, 2016

So, I'm trying out the multimedia function. I so wish I had this when I was writing YH1NM! Hopefully it worked. Anyway, the Titles in this story aren't connected to real people who hold/have held the titles (I tried to make sure I used extinct titles.) And Sophie's family are fictional, including all the £££ they have.Enjoy, Sarah xx

~*~*~

"I need you to save me."

"From?"

"From myself."

"I'm going to need a back story for this, Soph."

"I'm contemplating dropping like, a shit ton of money on a pair of shoes."

"And how much, exactly, is a shit ton of money?"

"Probably the equivalent of a month's rent in London."

"That much, huh?"

"I know. It's sinful, but if you saw the shoes, Daniel, you would totally understand. I'll text through a photo."

"Did you get the photo?"

"Yes."

"And? They're gorgeous, aren't they?"

"Not my style, but they're ok, I guess."

"I'm literally hovering the cursor over the confirm purchase button and I need you to stop me."

"But you're unstoppable. Clearly, you've made up your mind and there's nothing I can say or do to stop you, so should I even bother?"

"Yes! Dude, these shoes cost seventeen hundred pounds. One. Seven. Zero. Zero. Give or take forty-four pounds, but that's not the point. You should be encouraging me not to buy the shoes."

"How?"

"By getting me to see that I won't be able to pay my rent this month. Or that I will have to starve for the next three years. Or, I don't know. Use that ridiculously intelligent brain of yours!"

"Fine. Sophie, if you buy these shoes, you will starve for the next three years."

"I could just visit Mum and Dad more. They'll feed me."

"You won't be able to pay your rent this month."

"I own my house, so that's not an issue."

"Ok, you won't be able to pay your mortgage this month."

"I don't have one of those either, so I'm good. I'm totally buying these shoes!"

"Wait!"

"What?"

"You own a house in London but you don't have a mortgage. How is this possible? It's London!"

"Remember when I told you that my family are wealthy? Well, I may have down played that. Slightly."

"Slightly?"

"A little bit more than slightly?"

"Just how rich are you?"

"Um... rich enough?"

"Sophie!"

"Sunday Times Rich List, wealthy."

"How many zeros?"

"A few."

"A few? Like seven?"

"Um..."

"Eight?"

"It's not important, and anyway, it's vulgar to talk about money."

"What's you real last name, Sophie?"

"Clément?"

"No, that's your mother's last name. What's your father's?"

"Delaney."

"Delaney? Why is that name so familiar?"

"Not sure, so back to these shoes-"

"Fuck! You're James Delaney's daughter?"

"No?"

"Yes, yes you are! You're James Delaney's daughter?"

"Surprise!"

"Your dad is like... your family... you're richer than the Queen."

"I'm not. My father is."

"By association. Holy crap."

"Ok, let's just get this out of the way. Yes, James Delaney is my father. Yes, the Delaney family are well off. Yes, the family fortune runs into a few billion. No, I'm not a spoilt Daddy's Girl. No, I don't own a castle. No, I'm not friends with the Royals."

"Wait a second. Didn't I represent your aunt in her divorce last year?"

"Yes."

"So, you knew who I was?"

"Yes."

"But you never said anything?"

"I figured if you hadn't said anything, why should I? Plus, I kept dropping hints, asking if you a title and stuff."

"I don't have a title."

"You do. Earl of Castleton."

"Jesus, how did you find that out?"

"Google. Duh."

"I hate that you know that."

"I hate that you know who my father is."

"Mh hm."

"So, one day you'll be Duke of Kendal then?"

"And you'll be a billionaire."

"Hardly. My father's estate has to be split four ways."

"Which still leaves you with a lot of money."

"..."

"You know there's a lot of secrecy surrounding the Delaney wealth."

"So I've heard."

"So, what's the truth?"

"The truth?"

"Yeah, how did your father become so rich?"

"Cutting straight to the chase, I see. Ok, well, he inherited a lot of it. My great-great-great grandfather accumulated most of it through real estate, then the family went into banking, then investments and hedge funds before my father took it a new direction and found media and retail. Dad runs the media and retail side of it. My uncle Peter is the money man so he's the hedge fund and investments guy. Then you have my aunt, Helen, who, as you know, runs the real estate branch of the Delaney business."

"That's very diverse."

"Jack of all trades."

"And masters of them all, if your net worth is anything to go by."

"We still don't have a title, though."

"Hey, it's not like I want the damn thing. It's nothing but trouble."

"How so?"

"Samuel hates me because I'll not only become a Duke, but I inherit the family home and the money too. He, meanwhile, gets only a fraction of all that. Got to love being the first born son. Plus, all women see is the title. It's just... a pain in my arse."

"I feel ya, man."

"Haha. You sound funny when you talk like that."

"Funny, 'haha' or funny, 'quick, get the strait jacket?'"

"Both."

"... I can live with that."

"..."

"So, me being James Delaney's daughter doesn't change anything, does it?"

"Hoe do you mean?"

"You don't like me any more or less because I'm... financially fortunate?"

"No. You're still crazy. Apparently, money doesn't buy sanity."

"Wealthy people are allowed to be eccentric!"

"Yeah, eccentric. Not full blow bloody mental."

"Whatever. you love me, really."

"Absolutely."

"Are Earls allowed to be sarcastic?"

"This one is. While we're on the topic of influence, me having a title doesn't make you like me and more or less, does it?"

"It depends on the size of the family home."

"It's tiny."

"In that case, I like you less."

"Joking, it's bloody massive."

"Hey, look at that! I like you more now."

"Haha, good to know you're so easily charmed."

"My family own a hotel."

"I think you own more than just one hotel, Sophie."

"My point is, you can keep your rickety old castle and I'll stick to my various five star abodes located in every major city across the globe."

"Does your family own any sports teams?"

"What?"

"Like Abramovich, the Glazers, other rich people who own football teams. Do you have one?"

"No, because that's just stupid."

"You never know, you might like owning a football team."

"My family are Irish. In origin, at least. We don't do football. It's either rugby or hurling."

"Hurling?"

"It's too complicated to explain but my father is obsessed."

"I'll YouTube it."

"Enjoy that."

"Did you buy the shoes?"

"The what?"

"The shoes?"

"Oh, damn it. My shopping basket timed out."

"Excuse me?"

"It timed out. You know, I left it too long and it emptied my basket and erased all my details. I don't have the energy to go through it all again."

"So, no shoes for Sophie Delaney then?"

"It's Sophie Clément, thank you, Earl of Castleton."

"Touché. Just a thought, but can't you just nab a new pair of shoes from your work? Surely, one of the perks of working in fashion is all the freebies you get."

"... I hadn't thought of that. I'll run down to wardrobe now and have a snoop around. While I'm down there, I'll look to see if they have a pair of those Le Specs sunglasses, too."

"It's the middle of February, Sophie. you don't need sunglasses."

"Tosh, of course I do."

"It's grey outside. There is no sun."

"Your point being?"

"You don't need sunglasses."

"I do! I'll need them for Paris Fashion Week."

"Why, will it be sunny in France in March?"

"Probably not."

"But you still need sunglasses?"

"OH, Danny Duck, you have so much to learn about my culture."

"Your culture?"

"Fashion. Do you have some sunglasses that you can bring with you on the trip?"

"I am not bringing sunglasses, Sophie."

"Fine, but you'll look like a panda in a room full of lions."

"Your analogy is nonsensical."

"Says you."

"Says anyone. How do you link a panda and a lion?"

"You don't. That's the point, Daniel. You're going to look ridiculously out of place, like a panda in a pride of lions."

"There's nothing wrong with being a panda."

"Fine, be stubborn. You'll regret it."

"I'm sure I won't, but thanks for the advice."

"No biggie."

"I have to go. Evelyn is waving frantically at me through the window in the door."

"Oh. HELLO, EVELYN!"

"She can't hear you, Sophie. I can, though. Turn down the volume."

"Party pooper. Have a think about those sunglasses, My Lord."

"Shut up with talk like that."

"The sunglasses or the 'My Lord?'"

"... Both."

"Sure thing, Posh Spice."

"You're annoying."

"Meh."

"I can't believe I'm friends with you."

"Ditto, Duckling."

"Whatever, Pug."

"Yeah, and I'm the annoying one!"

"You are."

"I thought you had to go."

"I do."

"But you're still here."

"... Right. I'm going now."

"Hey, Daniel? Um... this whole James Delaney thing-"

"Stays between us? That promise has to work both ways, Sophie."

"You can totes trust me."

"That does not sound promising."

"I'm sending you a virtual pinkie promise."

"Comforting."

"It's sacred! You know what, there's no reasoning with toffs like you. Go, work."

"You too."

"Right, yes! I have sunglasses and shoes to find! Thanks for reminding me. This is Danphie One, over and out."

"Copy. Bye, Sophie."

"Later, alligator."