I hate house hunting. Is there anything more stressful than trying to find a place to live? I doubt it. 

Firstly, you have to narrow down an area of London that seems like a place you'll continue to love for years to come. Previously, I based this on where my favourite cocktail bar was and then looked at what other nightlife there was. This was back in my wild partying days, long before I met Brogan Greyson and Isaac Fletcher. Now, the main selling point of any location was whether or not there was a good school near the house. 

How times have changed. 

Secondly, I had to think of the features of the house. I've always been an apartment kind of girl, liking everything on one floor. However, that wasn't going to work with a baby. Apartments usually mean that you have limited space and as I'm quickly learning from everyone around me, kids need a lot of space. So a house was definitely the way to go. Preferably with a garden. And secondary accommodation. Martha was going to live with us, but as she nears eighteen, she needs her own space. If we have secondary accommodation, Martha can have a choice of either living with us or live away from us. If she chooses to stay with Isaac, Nugget and me, then the secondary accommodation can be used for visiting family. Done. 

Thirdly, there were niggly things that I would prefer to have but wasn't really necessary. Two studies- one for myself and the second one for Isaac, for example. A separate room just off from the kitchen that we could use as a playroom for Nugget. A walk in closet for myself. A den room for Isaac so he and the boys could continue their poker night tradition. A patio area out in the garden to entertain over the summer season. 

I don't think that my expectations were that high, at least when you looked at matters individually. When you look at my wishlist collectively, however, it seems like an impossible task.

"Well," the estate agent sighs as he scans my list once again. The poor man, in his mid-twenties, looked daunted at the task at hand and kept rubbing his hand down his face. Gulping, he picked up a fancy pen and started making notes on the list I'd given him. Finally, he nodded to himself and said, "Let's see what the database comes back with."

While he clicked away on the computer, I shuffled in my chair and looked at Sam, who was accompanying me in Isaac's absence. He'd run away from the gallery this morning because Martha and the curator, Ros, were arguing once again and Evelyn had to step in to sort it out. Knowing that if he took one woman's side over the other, he'd be accused of favouritism by the unchosen one, Sam was quick to duck out and meet me at the estate agent. I thought, being a recent homeowner himself, that Sam may be able to help me with the house hunt but then I remembered that he had bought the place from Daniel and he'd never experienced the torture of house hunting. 

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Sam suddenly asks me. Quirking my eyebrow at him questioningly, he rolls his eyes and continues anyway. "How do I deal with Martha?"

I frowned. "What do you mean, 'deal with Martha'?"

"She's infuriating and she's forever looking to argue with me," Sam says. He looks weary at having to put up with Martha day in, day out, and I can sympathise with him to an extent but I feel like he's only looking at her bad points. "She hardly ever does anything I ask her to do, she scares Ros' assistant, and she doesn't filter any of the words that come out of her mouth. It's like whatever is in her head, it comes rolling off the tongue."

"Ok, well, while she may be infuriating, she also has a really good heart. Did you know that she stops by the shop every morning to get you your coffee and pastry?" I ask, wondering if Sam had any idea of how good Martha was to him. She has her flaws, just like everyone else, but underneath Martha's tough exterior, she's one of the kindest people I've ever met. You've just got to get close enough to her to see it. "She'll argue with you until she's blue in the face but she'll always be the first to defend you. She doesn't do anything that you ask her to do because she will have already sorted it out because she's like that. She anticipates and she will stay up until one in the morning, taking on the phone and firing off emails to someone in Germany, securing that painting that you've wanted but couldn't seal the deal yourself. You think you're the one that got the Van Braun guy to sell you the psychedelic painting? No, my sweet Samuel, that was Martha. Have you ever thought that Ros' assistant is scared of Martha because she knows Martha's better than her? Or maybe it's institutionalised because Ros hates Martha. And I personally love that Martha has no filter. At least you'll always know where you stand with her. If you can't 'deal' with someone as amazing as that, I'm sure another person will. Michael has already tried to poach her away from you."

Sam opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off when the estate agent hollered in excitement. He told me that he'd found two properties that almost fit what I was looking for. One was in Chelsea while the second was in the Regent's Park area, slightly out of my current comfort zone. 

The Chelsea house was spacious; it had a large kitchen, a family room, reception room, study, master suite, three additional bedrooms, a laundry room, underground parking, a decent landscaped garden, as well as a separate studio that had its own kitchen, reception, a bedroom, and bathroom. There was also a wine cellar. 

Asking price? Nineteen and a half million. 

The property in Regent's Park was a Grade I listed Nash terrace house and it was beautiful. There was a kitchen, dining room, and family room on the ground floor. On the first floor, there was an extremely large reception room, while the top three floors included a master suite, two en-suite bedrooms, and two further bedrooms and a bathroom. A staff bedroom, the utility room, a gym and media room were housed on the lower ground floor. Opening off from the media room was a terraced area and a few steps led up to a well-manicured garden. On the other end of the garden was a door that led to the garage, which was attached to a mews house. The mews house was self-contained with a kitchen, dining room, reception room, study, and a bedroom and bathroom. 

It was on the market for just under twenty million. 

"That's a lot of money," Sam muttered. 

"Remind me how much your place cost again?" I challenged. I knew exactly how much the house was worth and it wasn't far off what I had budgeted for the move. Looking back at the estate agent, I asked, "When can we go and see these properties?"

With Isaac working today, he wasn't able to accompany me to the estate agents, not that he really wanted to anyway. He was all for us moving but his budget was considerably less than mine and he'd even suggested that we look at places in East London. They were cheaper, he argued. While I knew that the houses there were cheaper, I was also thinking of the commute. We both worked in West London, so it made more sense to stay here than move across the city. Plus, all the good schools were in Kensington, Chelsea, Notting Hill area, not in Isle of Dogs. 

Still, all that said, if Isaac was going to move in with me once Nugget was born, then he should have a say in what house we move to. From just seeing the few pictures that the estate agent showed me, I already knew which one Isaac would prefer but I couldn't be entirely sure. 

"How is next Tuesday?" The man suggested. When I nodded in agreement, he made a note of it in his diary and then wrote the date and time on a business card, handing it to me with a smile. Oh, his name is John? Looks more like a Tom to me. "It was lovely meeting you today, Mrs Delaney, Mr Delaney."

Sam and I both looked at each other and then laughed at the confusion. "I'm not Mr Delaney," Sam informed John. "You'll be meeting Mr Fletcher on Tuesday, though."

"Thanks, John, for your help today," I smile politely at the estate agent. "And I'll see you on Tuesday at the Chelsea property first." 

I dragged Sam back to his work, hoping to catch Martha in work mode. Of course, Sam was dragging his feet all the way back to the gallery, whining about walking into a war zone if Ros, Ros' assistant, and Martha were still at the gallery. 

When we walked back inside, there was an eery calmness in the air. Ros, a woman I'd met a few times previously, was walking around the gallery, all high and mighty, while some young redhead was chasing after her like a little puppy. Seeing as how both women were still alive, I guessed that Evelyn had managed to keep Martha occupied long enough that she didn't go on a murderous rampage. 

"I'm not sure if I like the quiet," Sam grumbled. He looked around and sighed. "It always means that something bad is on the horizon. Let's go find Crazy Girl."

Jokingly, I said, "That's no way to talk about your sister, Sam. Just wait until I tell Evie what you call her behind her back." I followed Sam up to the office area and heard a few people giggling together. One laugh was far too distinctive for my liking and I couldn't help but groan and quicken my pace as I neared the offices. Pushing the door open, my suspicions were confirmed. "Sophie, what are you doing here? You best not be corrupting Martha. Martha, is she corrupting you?"

"Hey, Charlotte," Martha beamed at me. Standing up, I couldn't help but notice her very professional look. Her fitted sky blue dress was belted at the waist and teamed with a pair of nude heels, and it showed off her olive skin perfectly. She had the same colouring as Isaac, from the skin to the blonde hair to the blue eyes. I can't help but wonder if Nugget would take after the Fletcher side or the Delaney side. Not that that was something to be thinking about right now. Back to my sister potentially corrupting Martha. "Like I can be corrupted, anyhow. I'm already amoral. Sam, while you were gone, I've booked your flight for a week Saturday, I've confirmed all your appointments up until you leave, I spoke to the university and they're setting aside another two tickets to your graduation and your lunch is on the table. No tomatoes in your sandwich. I know you hate them. If you have lunch now, I can finish up here with Evie and Sophie and then we can go over your schedule for when you come back. Was there anything else you need?"

I couldn't help but smirk at Sam. For all Martha's issues, she was a heck of a personal assistant to him. When Sam shook his head and left the office with his tail between his legs, I looked at all the mood boards that were propped up against the walls of Evelyn's office, noticing various themes. 

"What's all this for?" I randomly ask. 

"We're prepping for the Courtenay Foundation Ball," Sophie proudly announced. I'd almost forgotten about her pet project. "It's November 4th this year, just for you to know. You're going to need to book a babysitter. You should ask Isaac to babysit."

I frown. "Why isn't he invited?"

"Kidding," Sophie grinned. "Isaac's invited, of course. He has to come, anyhow. We need to show off just how amazing his daughter is. Seriously, Martha has been a Godsend to Evie and me today."

Martha blushed and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. She mumbled something that sounded like, "I'm going to check if Sam needs anything," and then quickly left the room. 

Sophie laughed. "She's cute. A ball buster, but cute. I pity any guy that ends up with her. So, Charlotte, how do you fancy supplying the desserts for the Ball this year?"

Here's your latest update.

Not a lot happens on the Lottie/Isaac front, but let's just talk about Sam/Martha (Samartha, as I like to randomly call them!)

1. Is it fair that Sam was bitching about her?

2. Are we happy that Charlotte went into Mama Bear mode and defended Martha?

3. Is Martha more good than bad?

4. Is it weird that Martha knows exactly how Sam takes his coffee and what he likes for breakfast/lunch?

5. Does Sam take Martha for granted?

Anyhow, that's all from me today. See you on Wednesday!

Sarah, xx