It's still 1980/90s but I've taken liberties with DNA testing and mobile phone tech (it's sooo hard to write a story without mobiles!) If the script can get away with tanks...

"So the thing is… I need the money…" Harriet Makepeace swigged back the last of the wine and took a breath.

"He sounds creepy, Harry." Her best friend Angela looked uneasily across the living room, uncurling from the sofa.

Harry shrugged; "Well, yes, I suppose he is but I can handle that. He's got lots of connections and loves history. He's richer than the Queen."

"Do you have to go?"

Arlington Johnson was a prize arsehole. A rich one with a love of anything remotely English and he had a particular interest in the museum where Harry worked. A department whose collection could access specific, potential life-saving DNA but need a grant to do so.

"I don't know anyone else rich who is willing to lend me grant money and wants me and my fiancée to spent time at their country estate." Harry spoke quickly hoping her friend might not spot the oversight.

Angela eyed her friend. "You have an ex-husband but no fiancée unless something big happened."

"Well yes I know," Harry sighed, no such luck. "That's a bit of a pickle."

Arlington had been professional and charming at an arts dinner but there was something about him that made her feel uncomfortable. It was easy to invent a fiancée since nobody knew anything about her private life at work. The words slipped out and Arlington had backtracked from any advances. A few days later, he'd called and invited her to an all expenses event which her boss had gleefully accepted for her and her mythical fiancée. Apparently Johnson wanted to get to know her, and despite her encouragement to have him shadow her at work, the man was insistent he would get to know her better away from the place.

"What about Jeremy?" Angela suggested, thinking of their out-of-work actor friend. "He's not working, again."

"I have to be intimate or I can kiss the money goodbye," Harry commented drily. "Jeremy isn't really into women or touching."

"Your ex?"

"I'm not into him or touching him." Harry quipped. "There's Jonathon I suppose?"

"His real-life fiancée would chase you down and he's too polite." The friends agreed that Jonathon's other half was terrifying and probably had a part-time hustle as a traffic warden.

"How on earth did you get yourself into this? You were amazing at police training. I'm a bit appalled that you have to get a fake man to get money. It's degrading." Angela swilled her drink around her glass, waiting for an answer. "Why don't you just leave and go back to the police?"

"I know, and I'm really annoyed with the museum. I'd get them to sort it out but somehow I've walked into this," Harry complained, "but we could possibly save lives with this money, it could help people, I just need to try."

"Can you split up, or invent an emergency?"

"Hardly, nothing is more critical and I don't want to be alone with Johnson." Harry shuddered at the thought, "He already thought I was part of the prize."

"What about an actor?" Angela said after a thoughtful pause. "Not am-dram like Jeremy, we all know he can't actually act. A real one."

"I can pay, I've got some money from the divorce," Harry suggested, "It keeps it professional."

"You could donate that money to your fund."

"I can't, it's too dodgy with the tax and peanuts compared to the grant I could get from Johnson. Anyway it's my money." Harry tipped the last of the wine into their glasses; she could spend most of it on alcohol, the way her life was turning out lately.

"What if the actor became famous and they pop up on some detective show, and then Johnson saw them?" Angela pointed out."You'll have to hire a professional won't you?"

"But you said… "Harry paled as she realised what her friend meant. "Oh you mean a-oh-professional… nope that's out of the question."

"There are high end agencies now, all checked for STDs, they'll understand what they have to do."

"But it could be some dodgy man with a terrible haircut and I have to share a room with them." Harry protested, the thought was awful.

"Do you want this money or not?"

"Suppose I do." She watched her friend pick up her phone and dial a number.

"It's Angela. I need a favour. Do you have the number for Chas, or his escort service? Okay, yes, that's fine, we can wait for them to call us."

The women jumped when the phone went; Angela answered and walked Chas through the problem, putting the call on speaker.

"I have the perfect guy." Chas replied smoothly. "He's been here a month, I've been getting him into shape, great at character acting and could easily deal with your man if he got too handsy."

"I need to meet him." Harry was resolute.