London With Dad's Best Friend: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 198)

by Flora Ferrari

  I frown. The building is mostly glass, modern and filled with light. I realize that all I remember being there in my time was a little stretch of grass where students would sit out on warm days. “I don’t know,” I admit. “That must be new.”

  I almost have to laugh at myself. Maybe it would have been better if we’d had the kid along to give us a tour. But I’m not about to admit that out loud – and if I ever see him again, you best believe I’ll let him know that we didn’t need him at all.

  We explore the rest of the campus at a leisurely pace, taking everything in. Whenever I can, I dispense some little snippets of wisdom from my own time as a student. I feel confident that, even if the technology and some of the buildings might have changed, a lot of my tips still ring true. Maybe Casey doesn’t exactly need any advice about using the library’s fax machines, but she can definitely improve her student experience with things I picked up on both sides of the pond – things that you could use at any college in the world.

  I find that I don’t want the tour to end. I drag it on for as long as I can, but finally I have to admit that I’ve shown Casey everything there is to show here. Everything I can remember, at least.

  And that means I’m going to have to come up with another excuse – because I definitely don’t want this to be goodbye.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Casey

  Every step brings me a new view of something else to fall in love with about this school. The mixture of modern and older buildings, the students walking around the campus, the different recreational opportunities, even some of the clubs – it all sounds great to me.

  I can really see myself studying here. I didn’t know if that was going to be possible, but I really love it.

  But the college might not be the only thing I’m falling for.

  When I interact with men my Dad’s age, they tend to be stuffy and old, showing the two decades between us by the way they act. They talk about things that go above my head, and they disapprove of just about everything my generation loves or creates. Forty might as well be sixty as far as my Dad’s other friends are concerned.

  But Edward is nothing like any of them. I’m starting to wish that I knew him before all of this – that I’d taken the time to talk to him when he was still in the US. Of course, it never occurred to me back then – and when I knew he was leaving to come to England, what was the point?

  He’s been here for long enough that his accent has started to change, and it’s totally hot. Every now and then he says something that’s just so completely British – like calling the student rep a jobsworth – and it’s thrilling. I’ve never met anyone like him.

  “Well, that’s King’s,” Edward says, hesitating. We stand facing one another outside the main reception building. The place where we first met up. We’ve walked everywhere and seen everything, and there’s nothing left to look at. It’s a shame. I feel like I could carry on talking to him forever. “What are your plans now? Are you looking anywhere else?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to take a tour around Royal Holloway in three days. I’m here for a week. Dad wanted me to get a feel for the city itself as well as just looking at the schools themselves.”

  “That’s a good plan,” Edward smiles. “But, do you know anyone else here? Or are you totally on your own?”

  “I’m on my own,” I say, with a little nervous smile. “Dad said he would have come with me, but he had this big thing at work. Anyway, it’s fine. I’ve been nervous about exploring on my own, but when I come back in September I’ll be on my own again anyway. I’ve got to get used to it.”

  “Well, you’re not completely alone,” Edward says thoughtfully. “I know you want to be independent, but it’s also nice to have a friend around. And when you start your course in September, you’ll have other students in the same boat to hang around with. Why don’t I spend some more time with you this week? I could show you more of the city, help you to get your bearings.”

  “Oh!” I can’t help but grin. The opportunity to spend some more time with the hottest man in London? Possibly in the whole world? Like I’m going to say no. “That sounds amazing. Thank you.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Edward says. “I can show you around tomorrow. Actually – what are your plans for dinner?”

  Dinner – with Edward? I think someone needs to pinch me, because I’m either dreaming or I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  “I don’t have any,” I say. “I was going to see what was around, and if I couldn’t find anything, there’s always room service at the hotel.”

  “Then you’re coming out with me,” Edward says, smiling. “Just let me make a call or two, and we can go.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Edward

  I step away from Casey to get some privacy, leaving her on a stone bench outside the reception area. I had plans for tonight, but that doesn’t mean I have to keep them.

  “Hello, sir?” It’s my assistant, James, who answers the call. He’s always around when I need him – even though I should have been done with work until tonight’s get together, there’s always something that comes up.

  “Ah, James. Tonight’s dinner – I need you to cancel it.”

  There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “Cancel it, sir?” James replies hesitantly.

  “Yes.” I don’t necessarily like to torture him, but it is fun to hear him trying to wrestle with the politeness that’s been drilled into him since birth, and the fact that it sounds like a ridiculous thing for me to do.

  “But…” James pauses, then the politeness apparently loses the fight. “This is a big dinner, sir. Don’t you remember? It’s been planned for over a month. It’s your opportunity to finally get Stan Robinson to give the firm his business.”

  “I know that,” I say, grinning to myself at how uncomfortable he sounds. At least I’ve managed to cure him of always telling me I’m right. “But something even more important came up. I’ll keep the reservation – but you can call them and let them know only to expect two, not four.”

  “What should I say to Stan and the others?” James asks, sounding stricken.

  “Tell them a personal emergency came up, and I’ll need to reschedule,” I say. “And if they ask, the reservation was cancelled. I really don’t need them turning up and seeing me there. It might be a bit difficult to deny.”

  “Got it.” James pauses. “Is there… really a personal emergency, sir?”

  “Of a sort,” I tell him, glancing back towards Casey. It was an emergency. If I didn’t do something, she was going to walk out of my life without ever being mine, and I can’t have that.

  I end the call with James and return to Casey, spreading my arms wide. “I’m all yours for the evening,” I tell her.

  “Great!” she says. “Where are we going for dinner?”

  I look her up and down; she looks amazing, but I don’t want her to feel out of place. “Did you bring anything dressy with you?” I ask.

  “Of course,” Casey tells me. “I don’t have any plans, but I thought I should bring something just in case. There might have been a formal occasion at one of the schools I needed to attend.”

  “Good,” I grin. “First, let's go to your hotel, so you can get changed. Then, I’m taking you somewhere nice.”

  “Where?”

  I laugh at Casey’s wide, curious eyes. “You’ll see,” I tell her. “Come on. I’ll get us a cab.”

  Within twenty minutes, we’re at her hotel. I wait downstairs in the lobby as she changes; thankfully, my work uniform of a dark suit and tie means I hardly ever look out of place in any social setting, and tonight will be no exception. I had originally intended to change into something with a little more of a flashy cut, to show off to Stan Robinson and impress him, but there’s no time for the both of us to change. And if I can make sure Casey is going to feel comfortable, then that’s what I’m going to do.

  She comes down the stairs in a pair of low heels and a navy blue dress that han
gs off her shoulders, cut nicely with a flattering, fluttering sleeve. I take a moment to appreciate the low v that allows me to admire just the very top of her cleavage, and then drag my eyes back up to her face. “You look wonderful,” I tell her.

  The blush is immediate, flooding her face from her forehead to her neck. “Thank you,” she says.

  I love the look on her face. I can tell she’s not used to getting compliments like that – and I can also tell that she really enjoys them. I want to make her smile like that all the time. And I have a few ideas for things that I could whisper in her ear that might make her blush even harder.

  Then I picture that dress ripped open on the floor of my bedroom, and it’s me who has to look at the floor and clear my throat to regain my composure. “Shall we?” I say, pointing to the taxis waiting outside the hotel as a distraction.

  I offer Casey my arm, and she takes it. That feels like a small victory, even if we haven’t exactly discussed the possibility of taking this any further yet. But as I feel her hand rest on the crook of my arm, and she walks at my side, I know I don’t want this to be the only time.

  I want to make her mine – to show her off like this all the time. I want to shower her in jewels and designer clothes, send her to salon appointments and spas dates, give her a life of utter luxury.

  But first, I’m going to give her a taste of gourmet food – and I have a feeling she, of all people, will be able to appreciate it the same way I do.

  When we get out of the taxi, it doesn’t look as though we’ve arrived anywhere special. A dark brick exterior with tall glass windows, on the bottom floor of an office building and with a boarded-up shop next door – it doesn’t scream elegance. But I’m playing a little bit of a trick on Casey on purpose. She may not think we’re going anywhere special, but the BRAT restaurant has a Michelin star. All of the best gems in London are just like this, hidden away in plain view.

  We’re seated at a table for two. In the cramped space inside the restaurant, there aren’t many tables. We can see the chefs working in front of us at an open kitchen, and on the other side of the room is the bar, taking up much of the available room. Here, you can see everything as it happens – and I think Casey will love it.

  “Order anything you want,” I tell her. She might be surprised by the prices down the side of the menu; I don’t want them to put her off getting from what she thinks sounds the most appetizing. “We’ll do four courses, and I’ll get some bread and butter for the table.”

  Casey’s eyes widen. She looks like a kid in a candy store, being given the chance to order whatever she wants. Except I no longer think of her as a kid. With her curves, how could I?

  We place our orders of chopped egg salad with bottarga, moorland beef tartare, roast duck, and burnt cheesecake with rhubarb for me; langoustine, young leeks with fresh cheese, beef chop, and lemon tart for Casey. She’s made good choices, and I feel almost giddy with anticipation, waiting to watch her eat.

  I realize that it’s important to me that she enjoys this meal. I want her to like the things that I like. I want to see that we’re a good fit. I feel it in the way the blood rushes to my dick every time I get a glimpse of her body, but I also feel it in the easy way we talk, the ambitions she has, the magnetic attraction. I will make her mine, and it starts here.

  “So, tell me about college,” I say. “What are your essentials?”

  “A good faculty and course for business studies,” Casey replies immediately. “That’s at the top of the list. I also wanted to come to London to get a different cultural experience. And I’d like a college with good facilities so I know I’ll be able to learn to the best of my abilities. A nice dorm would be good, too.”

  “Are you thinking about staying on campus?” I ask. “You know, students here often live off-campus by renting a small apartment or studio somewhere. You don’t have to stay on campus if you’re not interested in the nightlife or you want to experience the culture more.”

  “I don’t know,” Casey shrugs. “I’d like to do the first year in a dorm at least. To help me find my feet. Maybe after that, I’ll change my mind.”

  “Well, King’s definitely has everything on your list,” I say. “But Royal Holloway does too. You might have to decide based on your gut feeling of which of them appeals to you more.”

  Our first course arrives – beautifully presented, and bursting with flavor. While some Michelin-starred restaurants are known for plating up a tiny amount of food in a fancy way, BRAT keeps the fancy but doesn’t skimp on portion sizes. That’s why I knew it would be a good fit for Casey. I can see that she likes to eat, which makes her a perfect dinner companion for me, because I do too.

  I watch her take her first bite. Her eyes roll back into her head and she moans in delight, making me quickly move to place my napkin more firmly across my lap. I can’t take my eyes off her for long enough to make a start on my own food at first; she’s so captivating. With each bite she glories in the food, appreciates it.

  When the food is on the table we eat in silence, appreciating it for its flavor. We might make a comment here and there about how good it is. But between courses, we talk about Casey’s life at home, her ambitions of running a business, how her family is doing. That she’s always dreamed of having a traditional family of her own, a few kids and a dog, and being able to give her children everything they need. The more we talk, the more I realize how much we have in common – and how closely our needs are aligned.

  I’ve been waiting for a long time to find a woman like Casey. I’ve stayed single, all these years, waiting for the perfect fit. And now here she is in front of me. I almost want to grab her up and lay her over the table and take her right here, put my claim on her, let everyone know that she is mine. But I can be patient. I have a week to possess her – and I’ll do it, at a pace that doesn’t make her run for the hills.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Casey

  Dinner was so wonderful that it’s a shame it has to end. I barely want to move from the table – not just because I’m filled with the delicious food and enjoying that sleepy after-dinner feeling of satisfaction, but also because I don’t want to leave Edward. But I have to go back to the hotel at some point tonight, and there’s no avoiding it.

  “Do you know which Tube station is closest here?” I ask, realizing I’m going to have to figure out exactly how to get back to the hotel.

  “I’ll take you in a cab,” Edward says with a smile. “I’m not leaving you to take the Tube all dressed up like that. Besides, it will give us a little more time to talk. We have to plan tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow, in all the excitement of the food, I’d almost forgotten that Edward agreed to show me around tomorrow. If I get to spend the whole day with him when I wake up, it will be a lot easier to say goodnight.

  “That sounds great,” I say, as we get up from the table. Edward leads me outside, the bill already taken care of, and we climb into the back of a taxi together, largely ignored by the driver as he follows our route in silence.

  “So, what do you want to see?” Edward asks. “I don’t think we’ll get around to everything in a week, let alone a day, but if there’s something you’re more excited about, we can start there.”

  “I don’t know,” I gasp. There are so many iconic sights in London. I’ve already had a few of the key experiences – like right now, riding in the back of a black cab, for example – but I want to cross as many of them off as possible. “I’d like to see the classic sights. The things you see in movies. Like Big Ben and Tower Bridge.”

  “That can be arranged,” Edward says. He slides his phone out of his pocket and starts typing on it, though I can’t see what he’s doing. “Leave it with me. I’ll meet you bright and early, unless you’d like a later start.”

  Sleeping in bed alone, rather than getting to spend time with Edward in this beautiful city? There’s no way I’ll miss even a moment of his company if I can help it. “Bright and early is good,” I tell him.
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  Far too soon, we pull up outside my hotel. I wish we were further away, but it can’t be helped. We’re here now, and I can’t delay – I have to go inside.

  I get out reluctantly, but turn in surprise to see Edward paying the taxi driver. Isn’t he going home? Is he staying here too? Or does he – does he want to stay with me…?

  “I’ll walk you to your door,” Edward says, offering me his arm again. “I’m a little old-fashioned, I’m afraid. I like making sure my date gets home safe.”

  Date? Butterflies flutter in my stomach. I guess it was a dinner date, but neither of us said anything about it until now. I still can’t really tell if it really was a date – or whether he’s just saying that to be nice, trying to make his friend’s daughter feel good.

  I can’t find my tongue as we head to the elevator and then go up five floors, before walking down the corridor to my door. We linger outside as I insert my keycard and unlock it, nudging it open with my hip.

  “Well, this is me,” I say at last. It sounds like something a girl would say in a movie. I’m not sure exactly where it came from, but at least I didn’t sound like a total idiot.

  “Alright. Have a good sleep. And don’t forget – bright and early in the morning.”

  I nod in agreement. Suddenly my throat is dry, and my voice has forgotten how to speak. I think I want to invite him inside. I think I want him in my hotel room – maybe even going all the way. But it’s too forward to say anything, isn’t it?

  And I’m sure he would say no. He probably sees me as a kid still. And even if he did agree to come inside, I have no experience with this kind of thing. I’d come off like a freak and probably scare him off for good, and that would mean missing out on tomorrow.

  I don’t want that to happen.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” I manage to say, which is the truth and hopefully not too dorky. I don’t know if he knows that I want him – that I can’t stop looking at him and thinking about him. I hope he can’t tell, because I must come off like a lovesick teenager right now.