by Alexa Land
He muttered, “Oh, fantastic,” but then he linked arms with her and they headed down the street.
As my boyfriend locked the door behind us, I wandered into the department store and whispered, “Holy shit.” The ground floor was ringed with gilded pillars, and it had high ceilings and an open center section, revealing five stories of balconies topped by a stained glass dome. Soft lighting gave the whole place an ethereal quality. And of course, everywhere I looked, bountiful displays of beautiful things beckoned.
We were in the cosmetics section, and as we strolled down the main aisle, I ran my fingertips over a collection of lavish perfumes. Alastair caressed my lower back and said, “I have three things planned. There’s a picnic dinner, ample time to shop and play around in any departments you wish, and the surprise I’ve been alluding to all week. What would you like to do first, love?”
“The surprise, please, although this is already amazing.”
“I hope it’s about to get even better.” His expression was one of nervous anticipation as he took my hand and led me across the ground floor.
The building was so large that it took us a few minutes to reach the northwest corner. That part of Penelegion’s housed several dining venues. It had been designed to resemble a miniature, eighteenth century English country village, including individual storefronts and a central seating area ringed with potted plants, which I would have called a courtyard if we were outside. Velvet ropes, a sign saying ‘Under Construction’, and a wide set of royal blue curtains blocked off whatever was located directly in the corner of the building, nestled between a bakery and an upscale deli.
Alastair turned to me and said, “You can absolutely say no to this. I won’t be hurt or offended, I promise. It was just an idea I had, and I probably should have discussed it with you before I took it this far, but I thought it would help to see it partly set up. Just remember, it can go away if it’s not what you want. Zero pressure.”
“Got it.”
“Wait right here and close your eyes.”
I lowered my lids and put my hand over my eyes for good measure, and he took hold of my shoulders and rotated me about five inches to the right before hurrying in the direction of that curtain. He muttered, “Shite! Don’t you dare stick on me, ya bastard,” then grunted with effort at whatever he was doing. After a moment, Alastair exclaimed, “Finally! There we go.” Then he called, “You can open your eyes, Sawyer.”
My jaw dropped right along with my hand, and I murmured, “Oh my God.” A glass-fronted café filled the corner of the building diagonally, framed by the now-open curtains. Above the door, an elegant sign in wood and brass read: Sawyer MacNeil. Smaller letters below my name proclaimed: Purveyor of Fine Coffees.
He said, “I had the store’s display department make up the sign, just to give you an idea. You don’t have to stick with it if it’s not to your liking.”
I wandered into the café in a daze. Rich wood tones made the space feel warm and welcoming. To my left, a polished counter fronted a workspace displaying a life-size photo of a professional-grade espresso machine. Alastair explained, “Lorelei had the poster made up to help you visualize this as a coffee house. She also printed up fact sheets with the specifications for several different models of espresso machines for you. She’s very thorough.”
“So, this space….”
“Is yours if you want it,” he said. “Just so you know, I’d be your landlord, not your employer. You’d be leasing the space from me at the rate of one pound per month, and you’d hire your own staff and make all the decisions. All the shop owners in this part of the building are on a lease. Their rent is somewhat higher, however, so mum’s the word, ay?”
“I could pay more than a pound a month.”
“I know, but I don’t like the idea of making a profit off you.” I turned slowly, imagining a busy coffee house all around me, and Alastair added, “While this would be yours to run as you see fit, I do have one favor to ask.”
I turned to him and said, “Anything.”
“Please let me buy you the espresso machine and the rest of the equipment you’ll need. It would mean so much to me to get to do that for you.”
“But those machines cost as much as a car.”
“All the more reason. Even without having to worry about the equipment, you’ll still have plenty of start-up costs, and I don’t want you to completely obliterate your savings and put yourself in debt right out of the gate.”
“I appreciate the offer, and I am going to need some help at first, because my savings aren’t nearly enough to cover all my startup costs. But as soon as I begin turning a profit, I’m going to pay you back. This is a prime location, and that intersection out there is probably busy during the day,” I said, gesturing at the view out the plate glass windows at the back of the café. “I think I’d have more customers than I knew what to do with.”
“You will. For forty years, and up until three weeks ago, this was a tea parlor. The purveyor made a fortune with it and retired to a villa in Spain. Incidentally, her tastes ran along the same lines as Mrs. Foster’s, so I’ve had workers in here all week, taking down frilly curtains, refinishing the formerly pink wood floors, and stripping off layers of floral wallpaper.”
“They’ve done a great job. It’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
I asked, “I just thought of something. What about the rule against Americans getting jobs in the UK and taking them away from residents?”
“You’d actually be providing jobs, so no worries there. My lawyers could handle the business license and all the necessary paperwork for you. But that’s assuming you actually want this.”
I took his hand and said, “Of course I do! It’s a dream come true, Alastair. I’m already envisioning what this place could be.”
He lowered his gaze and said, “If you hired the right people and found a competent manager, you wouldn’t have to remain on-site, you know. Not if you didn’t want to.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well…what if you decided to return to the U.S.? As much as I want you to remain here with me, we’ve never talked about this. It would mean leaving your family and friends and your entire life back in the States. Offering you this business opportunity must seem like I’m trying to get you to put down roots, and that I’ve been making a lot of assumptions about us, but it’s your life, and a huge decision, and….” He looked up at me and asked, so softly, “Am I really what you want, Sawyer?”
“More than anything! I came here because I need to be with you, Alastair, and wherever you go, I fully intend to follow.”
“But you’re giving up everything for me.”
“No, I’m not. I’m gaining everything.”
He pulled me into an embrace, and as I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, he said, “I can’t begin to tell you what it means to me to have you here. I was barely holding it together before you arrived. But it all feels much more bearable now, because I know that no matter how bad my day is, I have this to look forward to at the end of it.”
I kissed his forehead and said, “It’s nice to be needed.”
“You are, and soon you’ll also be needed by scores of Londoners who’ll come to depend on your delicious coffee. Oh, and I hope you incorporate your wonderful latte art, because the world needs more whimsy. I wholeheartedly believe that.”
“I will.” I kissed him and asked, “How soon can I start getting this place up and running?”
“Begin tomorrow if you’d like. The paperwork can happen while you’re setting up the business.”
I looked around and said, “I always wanted a place just like this, but it seemed like it’d always be out of my reach. Thank you, Alastair, for making this happen.”
“You’re the one who’ll make it happen, love. All I’m doing is providing the venue and some equipment.”
“Like I said, I’ll pay you back for the espresso machine and the rest of it. I also wa
nt you to increase my rent to a realistic amount, although it may take me a little before I can afford to do that.”
He smiled at me and said, “No.”
I chuckled at that. “What do you mean, no?”
“If you want this space, the rent is one pound a month in perpetuity, nonnegotiable. And the espresso machine and equipment are a gift. You don’t pay people back when they give you presents, Sawyer. You just say thank you.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“I know.”
I hugged him and said, “Thank you, Allie. I appreciate this so much.”
“You’re welcome. So, just to be clear, this is a definite yes?”
“Absolutely.”
“Fantastic!” Alastair looked delighted, and he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text. “Lorelei will be thrilled, too. She got quite emotionally invested in this place over the last week.”
“I need to thank her for her help.”
His phone beeped, and he read the text and told me, “She says she’s jumping for joy, and also that she’ll be in here daily for her coffee fix.” He returned the phone to his pocket and looked up at me with a gleam in his eye. “Now, would you like to run amok in a major department store?”
“Yes please!” I grabbed his hand, and we raced out of the café.
*****
For the next two hours, we crisscrossed Penelegion’s, bouncing from department to department. Whenever we found something we wanted to buy, Alastair tore off the tag and left it and his business card on one of the registers, so the sales associates could charge him for it in the morning. Even though his name was on the building, he was conscientious about paying his way (and, on a practical note, he didn’t want to throw off inventory counts by shorting departments of their merchandise).
We spent a lot of time in the toy department, and when he showed me the counter that once housed his beloved Dunford Racers, I said, “Aw, I wish I’d known we were going to be here. It would have been the perfect time to give you that red convertible.”
“I’m glad you gave it to me when you did. I have it on my desk in the office, and whenever I look at it, I think of you and smile. It’s been a welcome bright spot.” That was nice to hear.
As I ran my hand over a stuffed giraffe that was almost as tall as I was, something caught my eye, and I exclaimed, “I have to get that sparkly, pink princess dress for Kai’s daughter Izzy, she’ll love it!”
We found the right size, and Alastair had me write her address on the back of one of his business cards. We left the dress, card, and a request to mail it behind the counter, and he said, “You can count on the staff to wrap nicely and ship it for you. They’re top-notch.”
Our last stop was the lingerie department. Fortunately, it had an ample plus-size section, because that was the only way I could fit into anything. I stripped for Alastair while he sat in an upholstered chair in front of a trio of mirrors, and when he saw what I was already wearing under my clothes, he drew in his breath.
I proceeded to model several outfits for him, and he kept getting more and more worked up. A short, see-through red nightie finally put him over the edge, and he all but tackled me. We tumbled to the floor in a passionate embrace as I burst out laughing.
We ended up fucking right there in the lingerie department, both of us reflected over and over in the mirrors around us. Afterwards, when we were curled up in the upholstered chair, I asked, “So, which outfit should I buy?”
“I’m buying you everything you tried on.”
“No you’re not. It’s too much, especially after all you’re already doing for me with the café! I can’t let you spend hundreds more on top of all that.”
Alastair grinned and ran a fingertip down the thin strap of the red negligee as he said, “Buying you these sexy things is a gift for both of us. You get to wear them, and I get to see you in them. The epitome of a win-win situation.” He kissed the frown line between my brows before climbing off my lap and holding out his hand to me. “Come on, let’s pack up all your new treasures and get to that picnic. I’m bloody well starving after the way we just worked up an appetite.”
“There’s no point in arguing, is there?”
“Absolutely none.”
I let him pull me to my feet, and then I kissed him gently and said, “Thank you, Allie. You’re the most generous man I’ve ever met, and I want you to know I’m so grateful for all of this.”
He caressed my cheek and said, “You deserve to be cherished, Sawyer.” We kissed for another minute, and then he said, “Come on, love. I’ll collect our purchases while you get dressed.”
The third and final phase of our date took place on the roof. We left all our purchases beside the elevators so we could collect them at the end of the evening, and then Alastair led me through a staging area, up a small staircase, and out a creaky, disused door. I was unprepared for the hidden treasure awaiting us.
The graceful, rusted metal and glass pavilion resembled a round, Victorian greenhouse. Alastair said his great-great-great-grandfather had built it on a whim. “He envisioned opening a bistro up here, but didn’t bother to check with anyone before he had it built. It was immediately deemed too dangerous by the rest of the family, what with the risk of guests tumbling off the edge of the roof and all, so it was never opened for business. The family calls it Bernard’s Folly. I’ve always found it magical.”
The turrets and spires around the edges of the building and the huge, stained glass dome in its center conjured a fantastical and otherworldly landscape, like something out of a dream. Beyond it, London’s skyline sparkled against the night sky. I murmured, “This is astonishing,” as I took it all in.
“You know what being up here reminds me of?”
I turned to him and smiled. “Our first night together.”
“Exactly.”
He played ‘Time After Time’ on his phone, and we slow-danced around the roof. When the song ended, he kissed me, then took my hand and led me into the pavilion. It was lit by a dozen tall, Moroccan lanterns, and in the center of the space, a red blanket was set with fine china and piled with a dozen jewel-toned pillows. We got comfortable, and Alastair served us champagne, which had been chilling in a silver bucket. Then he said, as he folded back the lid on a big, wicker picnic basket, “One of the shops downstairs, the one immediately to the left of your coffee house, makes these up. I’ve always loved them. On weekends in summer, my father would drive up from London to our country house, which is where my sister and I lived when we weren’t away at school. He’d often bring along one of these hampers, so they make me think of my childhood.” Alastair found a white box of cookies sandwiched with strawberry jam, and fed me one as he said, “These were always what I most looked forward to.”
As we ate, he told me about each of the local delicacies and the memories they stirred in him, from the pastel meringues which were served at every birthday party to the cheddar-laced crackers that were taken on trips to the shore. He said, “These hampers have remained reassuringly consistent throughout the years. How many things in life can you say that about? If that shop ever closes its doors, it’ll feel like losing a piece of my childhood.”
“Then we’re going to make damn sure it never closes,” I told him. “Even if the shop owner tries to retire, we’ll do something about it. We’ll buy out his lease and all his recipes and hire someone to run it in his place.” That made him happy.
After eating our fill, we curled up in the nest of pillows, and I took his hand. We ended up talking all night. It felt wonderful, just being able to let my guard down and be myself. So much of my life had been spent pretending to be someone I wasn’t and trying to please people who were never going to give a shit. It was so nice to know I’d never have to do that with Alastair.
Near dawn, I whispered, “Tonight was perfect. I just feel bad, because you’ve given me so much, and I have nothing to give you in return.”
Alastair held my gaze as he said, “You’
ve given me you, Sawyer. You left behind friends, family, and country just to be with me. The stuff I gave you tonight was trivial in comparison.”
“It wasn’t trivial. In fact, it was so much more than I ever dreamed of. And so are you. You’re absolutely everything, Allie, and I’m grateful beyond words that you’re in my life.” As the sky turned pink all around the pavilion, he kissed me tenderly. I never even knew it was possible to feel that perfectly happy.
Chapter Sixteen
Eight Weeks Later
“You just smeared your eyeliner.”
“Oh hell.” I carefully ran the side of my index finger beneath my lower lashes and asked, “Is that better?”
Kai scrutinized me for a moment, then said, “Yup, you got it.”
We were video chatting, so I took a peek at the little image of myself in the bottom corner of my screen to make sure. Then I grinned at my best friend and said, “Did you ever imagine you’d be giving me makeup tips?”
“That wasn’t exactly a makeup tip, so much as a general heads-up.”
“True.”
“If I was going to give you a makeup tip, I’d tell you that lipstick’s a shade too dark on you. Makes you look washed out.”
“Oh see, I knew it.” I pulled a tissue from the box on my desk and wiped my lips, then said, “I let Liza and Lisa in the cosmetics department talk me into trying that one when I went for a stroll earlier. They said it looked dramatic, but I was on the fence. Now I’m glad I didn’t buy it.”
I pulled a tube of red lipstick from the desk drawer and applied it with the mirror in my compact as Kai asked, “So tell me, my glamorous friend, how do you like running your own business? Is it all you’d hoped for?”
As I returned the cosmetics to the drawer, I said, “I love it. We’ve had our challenges in the four weeks we’ve been open, but it’s getting easier. Thank God for Horton, the manager I hired. With his decade of experience, he’s seen it all and has a solution for every problem that crops up. I’m pretty sure I would have run screaming from the building at least half a dozen times by now if it wasn’t for him.”