I See London

by Chanel Cleeton

  Mya nodded, taking a sip of her champagne. “She has a point.” She nudged me. “I think you’re about to get your chance.”

  My hand tightened on the stem of the champagne glass.

  Hugh walked toward us, looking even better than I remembered.

  * * *

  “Nicely done,” Fleur whispered under her breath.

  I couldn’t help but agree. Tonight Hugh was dressed in a perfectly-tailored black suit, no tie and a cream dress shirt underneath.

  “By the way, he thinks I’m doing a master’s,” I mumbled.

  Fleur’s eyes widened. “Maybe I misjudged you. You’re learning already.”

  I rose from my seat, my normal five-feet-four-inch height helped out by the pair of red heels Mya had lent me. He still towered over me.

  Hugh smiled widely, his gaze roaming down my body. “Hi.” He reached out, gathering me close. Through the soft fabric of his shirt his muscular chest pressed against me, his strong arms embracing me. His lips brushed each of my cheeks in greeting before he pulled back. I stood there, my brown hair tumbling around my shoulders, my curvy body wrapped in Mya’s tight dress, a faint blush spreading across my cheeks as his gaze took me in.

  “You look gorgeous.”

  The gymnasts that had been working out in my stomach moved farther north. Something tumbled in the vicinity of my heart. When he said it, I believed him.

  “Thanks.”

  His gaze shifted from me to Mya and Fleur. I quickly made the introductions, bolstered by their presence. Both girls looked a lot older than they were, both stunning in their own right. For a moment I felt a twinge of worry. But somehow, miraculously, after the introductions were made and Hugh asked how everyone was enjoying themselves, he led me off to a table tucked in the back.

  My hand in Hugh’s, our fingers linked together, I followed him through the bar. Occasionally he paused to shake hands with someone. He seemed to know everyone. It was as if he was the cool kid and for a day I was getting the chance to sit at his table. Except this wasn’t high school. This was London, one of the most glamorous cities in the world. And even though I knew this same scene was playing out in bars and clubs all over the city, all that mattered was that in this bar I was with the guy everyone wanted a piece of.

  Somehow, as unlikely as it was, he had chosen me. For the night, at least.

  I followed his lead, sitting down next to him at a comfy couch. Hugh moved closer to me, his suit-clad leg brushing up against my bare one. The movement sent a flash of heat through my body.

  “Do you want a drink?” He waved over a waiter.

  I nodded, leaning back as he ordered drinks for both of us. I had no idea what to talk about. Ask him about himself, Fleur had suggested. It couldn’t hurt to give it a shot.

  “How long have you owned the club?” I leaned forward, closing the space between us. I wasn’t completely unaware of the fact that the move gave him an excellent shot of my cleavage.

  Hugh’s gaze dipped for an instant before returning to my face. He grinned, taking hold of my hand once again, lacing my fingers with his. A thrill ran down my spine. His fingers stroked back and forth. I couldn’t help but wonder if what they said was true, big hands…

  “About a year.”

  I would never get tired of hearing that accent. I struggled to concentrate on the conversation. “What did you do before that?”

  “Traveled, mostly.”

  I grinned. “I’m jealous.”

  When I was a kid I’d been obsessed with the idea of traveling. I’d had a globe in my room and I used to place pins in all the places my dad had been—the ones he could talk about at least.

  Hugh’s fingers moved up my arm, tracing small circles on the inside of my wrist. “I spent some time in Asia and Europe. Backpacked around, mostly. I got bored with that after a while and I ended up coming back.” His fingers traveled farther up my arm. “Besides, my girlfriend wanted to settle down back home.”

  I froze. Girlfriend?

  Hugh smiled ruefully. “We broke up a year later. She wanted to get married. I didn’t. And then I opened the bar.”

  I didn’t even know what to say to that. He’d almost been engaged? I hadn’t ever even had a boyfriend. “How old are you?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  “Twenty-seven.”

  Shit. Eight years.

  “How about you?” His voice was low, a strand of my hair wrapped around his finger.

  I couldn’t tell him I was nineteen. “I’m twenty-three,” I lied, the number appearing out of thin air.

  “You’re a baby.”

  He had no idea.

  “I’m not that innocent,” I teased, the words slipping out, adding to the weight of my lies.

  Hugh’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face. His fingers traveled higher, stroking the sensitive hollow of my neck. “Oh, really?” His lips whispered over my ear, moving up to press a swift kiss against my temple. “I’m beginning to wish I didn’t have to work tonight. I’m tempted to test that statement.”

  His lips brushed against mine.

  Holy shit.

  “That is a shame.” The words tumbled out of my mouth with the same seductive tone I’d slipped into since we sat down at the table. It was like someone had taken over my brain. “I’m tempted to let you.”

  I was flirting. I was actually flirting.

  All these years Jo told me it would be easy if I could just let go a bit. She was right. Now that I’d let go, I didn’t want to go back to the old Maggie. I liked this version—liked the flutter in my chest when Hugh looked at me like he wanted me.

  He grinned at me. “I’m really glad I met you, Maggie.”

  My own smile echoed his. “Me, too.”

  Hugh glanced down at his watch. “I have to get back to work. You around later?”

  I thought about saying yes. Part of me wanted to. I liked the way I felt around him—shinier, more glamorous, simply more. But somehow Fleur’s voice appeared in my head. Play hard to get. Make him work for it. “Sorry, I have plans.”

  Hugh nodded, the gorgeous grin still on his face. “I’m glad you stopped by.” His lips wandered downward, grazing the corner of my mouth. “See you around, Maggie. I can’t wait for next time.”

  Chapter 9

  “What the hell happened? He didn’t even ask for my number.”

  Mya leaned back in her chair, an oversize pair of sunglasses covering her eyes, a coffee cup clutched in one hand. Last night after we left Cobalt, we’d made plans to meet at our neighborhood Starbucks for coffee. I hadn’t bothered inviting Fleur.

  “Dating in London is challenging.”

  “It’s not like it was even a date. I sat with him for like a nanosecond.”

  “He looked interested.”

  I pulled off an end of my croissant, stuffing it in my mouth. “I guess. The whole thing was just confusing.”

  “That’s London.”

  “He’s twenty-seven.”

  “That’s a little old.”

  “It’s eight years.” I sighed. “Well, as far as he thinks, I’m twenty-three. So it’s only four.” I groaned. “You’re the expert. Help me. What do I do next?”

  Mya drew off her sunglasses, setting them carefully on the small Starbucks table. “He’s playing the game.”

  “Yeah, that’s kind of a problem, then, considering I don’t know the rules.”

  Mya leaned back, studying me. “I’m surprised you didn’t have a boyfriend in the U.S. You’re cute. What was wrong with those American boys?”

  I laughed. “I’m not great with guys.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I just get uncomfortable. Like in high school, there was this guy I liked. He was really popular, captain of the soccer team, really hot. We had like five classes together and I still couldn’t manage to talk to him. Finally senior year came around and our chem teacher assigned us as lab partners. I spent the whole time planning out exact
ly what I was going to say to him. There may have been note cards involved.” Mya snorted. “One day I got so nervous I knocked over one of our experiments.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Oh, yeah. I started a fire. So for the rest of senior year, he knew me as the girl who started the fire in our chem class.”

  Mya cracked up.

  “It was bad.”

  “You seem to at least be doing better here. No chemical fires.”

  I threw my napkin at her. “Laugh all you want. It sucks being this inept with guys. I do want a boyfriend. I just have no idea how to actually get one.”

  “I can only help you so much. I haven’t dated a ton, either. We need to call in the big guns. You need Fleur.”

  I grimaced. “Trust me, that’s the last thing I need.” I hesitated. “What’s the deal with you and Fleur? Why’d she come out last night?”

  “I think she’s lonely.”

  I found it hard to believe anyone who looked as gorgeous as Fleur could ever be lonely.

  “It’s a bad situation. A lot of their friends jumped ship with the breakup. I don’t think she has anyone besides Samir and his crowd.”

  “Maybe she would have more friends if she was a bit nicer. She still barely speaks to me as it is, and I live with her.” She was marginally nicer to Noora. I figured she just hated Americans. Or it was something I’d done.

  “She’s hard to get close to, yeah. But once you get to know her, she’s not that bad. And despite all the shit with Costa, she’s really good with guys.”

  “Whatever. I don’t think there’s anything to help me with anyway. I’m not going to go back to Cobalt like some loser. If he was interested in seeing me, he would do something about it.”

  Mya waved her hand dismissively. “There are a ton of other guys in this city. If this guy isn’t the guy, you’ll find someone else.”

  I was going to need all the help I could get.

  * * *

  Mya and I separated at Starbucks. She had some shopping to do and I had been dying to go to Hyde Park. From my dorm room window I could just see the tops of the trees. I’d started going on these little walking adventures, exploring the city I’d come to love. Since my visit to Westminster I’d added trips to Buckingham Palace, Harrods, the National Gallery and the Tower of London. Sometimes Noora came with me—she seemed to enjoy doing touristy stuff as much as I did.

  I crossed the street, walking through the oversized iron gates. It was still early for London and the park was fairly empty. I loved the city when it was like this. It felt like it was my own secret place to explore. I wrapped my coat tighter around my body, trying to ward off some of the morning chill. It might have been late September, but London was starting to get cold. I sat in the quiet for an hour, lost in my thoughts.

  “Hey, Maggie.”

  My head jerked up at the sound of my name. George waved at me, jogging over to the bench. I hadn’t seen much of him since the first day, when he helped me move in to my room. Most of my classes were full of freshmen; we had only passed each other in the halls a few times. Despite the small size of the school, London was a big enough city that everyone seemed to have their own thing going on.

  I waved back at him.

  He stopped in front of the bench, his hands on his hips. He seemed a little out of breath.

  “How are you settling in?”

  “I’m adjusting little by little.”

  “How’s Fleur?”

  I pulled a face.

  He grinned. “Don’t take it personally. She’s like that with pretty much everyone. No one lives up to her standards.” He shook his head. “How is everything else? How are your classes?”

  I talked to George for a few more minutes, making plans to go for a run in the park later in the week as we walked back to campus together. We parted ways in the hall.

  Brunch on the weekends was served until one; luckily I had just caught the tail end of the meal. The cafeteria was mostly empty. I made my way through the line, frowning at the meager food offerings. Somehow, unbelievably, the weekend food selection was even worse than normal. I grabbed some cucumbers and white rice, the only appetizing options. I scanned the room for a seat.

  Fleur sat by herself at one of the tables. I hesitated, shifting the tray in my hands. What the hell.

  “Can I join you?”

  Fleur’s head jerked up from the fashion magazine she had been reading. She paused for a moment before gesturing toward the empty chair. “Go ahead.”

  The tone of her voice gave a good indication of where the Ice Queen nickname had come from.

  I sat down across from her, already reevaluating my decision. Fleur continued reading her magazine, her fingers flipping the pages. Voices sounded behind us. Costa walked by with a group of his friends. He didn’t spare a look for Fleur, but her head jerked up at the sound of his voice. The stricken expression on her face said it all.

  “I’m sorry.” The words escaped my mouth before I even thought about what I was saying or who I was saying it to.

  Fleur’s eyes narrowed, her gaze jerking away from Costa and focusing on me. “I don’t need you feeling sorry for me. I’m fine.” Her tone was like ice. “I don’t want to talk about Costa.” She focused back on me. “How about you? What are you going to do about that guy? The one from last night?”

  The topic change surprised me. “Hugh?”

  She nodded.

  I shook my head. “I have no idea.” I hesitated for a moment. “Mya thought I should actually talk to you. She seems to think you’re some sort of guy whisperer.”

  She laughed at that—the sound bitter and somehow incongruous with her beauty. “I’m not sure I’m the example you should hope to emulate.”

  I shrugged. “I’m massively out of my league here.”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  It was weird talking to a girl who looked and dressed like a model but seemed this thrown by a guy.

  “Fair enough.”

  We ate the rest of the meal in silence before we went our separate ways. But I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d seen the beginning chinks in the Ice Queen’s armor.

  Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  Chapter 10

  Little by little I began settling into life at the International School. I enjoyed classes with my professors, loved getting into debates with my classmates. Here students from all over the world mingled together, forming friendships transcending ethnic or cultural background. There was something incredible about listening to an Israeli and a Palestinian student discuss the current conflict. Wars might be raging throughout the world, but the International School was a neutral zone. It was an amazing thing to see. The school wasn’t Harvard, but it was special in its own right.

  Most of all I fell in love with London. I spent my free time walking around the city, exploring new places daily. Sometimes I went with friends, but most of the time I went on my own. It was the kind of place where you could never get bored. It was rarely quiet.

  “Are you staying in tonight?” Noora asked from across our dorm room. As usual Fleur had gone off somewhere.

  “Yeah. Probably just doing some work. You?”

  “I’m meeting some friends for a movie. Want to come?”

  “I think I might pass this time. Thanks for the invite, though.”

  Noora nodded, grabbing her purse. “See you later.”

  My phone rang. Mya. “What’s up?”

  “We’re going out.”

  I stared down at the textbooks spread out all over my bed. I had a ton of reading this weekend. And I was really behind.

  I pushed away the guilt. I could study another time.

  * * *

  I followed Mya down the steps, stopping dead in my tracks.

  Samir stood on the street in front of the building, leaning against a sleek black sedan. Fleur stood next to him.

  I groaned. “I changed my mind about tonight.”

  “Nope. You’re coming.” Mya
tugged on my hand.

  I shot her a look. “You could have mentioned that two of my least favorite people were included in our little group.” I didn’t even bother lowering my voice. Samir was a flirty thorn in my side and Fleur’s thawing seemed to have bee a temporary moment, never to be repeated.

  Samir grinned at my words. Fleur just looked pissed off.

  “You wouldn’t have come if I told you the truth,” Mya answered, nonplussed. “Besides, you need a night out. You’ve been way too good lately.”

  My eyes locked with Samir’s. He wore a pale blue collared shirt, sleeves rolled, and a pair of dark Diesel jeans. Flashes of the dreams I’d been having about him assailed me.

  Samir turned to Fleur, a torrent of French escaping him. He didn’t seem angry, but there was intensity behind his words—and a definite chill in her reaction.

  Were they talking about me?

  Whatever he said to her, Fleur definitely didn’t look happy.

  I already felt ridiculous enough, playing dress-up in one of Mya’s dresses, too tight on my curvy frame. Now I felt like an unwanted interloper. “You know, maybe this was a bad idea,” I called out, ready to turn around and go back in the building.

  “You’re coming,” Mya snapped, shooting both Fleur and Samir a dark look.

  Samir said something else in French. Fleur glared at me.

  I really needed to learn another language.

  Fleur turned her back to me, sliding into the backseat without another word.

  “Come on.” Samir jerked his head toward the car.

  I hesitated.

  “Come on.” His lips curved into a grin. “Are you really going to let Fleur push you around like that?” He leaned in closer to me. “Trust me, your best play is to show no fear.”

  He had a point.

  I slid into the backseat next to Mya, glad to have her as a buffer between me and Fleur.

  Samir shut the door with a grin. “Good girl.” I rolled my eyes.

  Another guy got into the front seat. I instantly recognized him as Samir’s partner in crime from the first day on the stairs. Samir introduced him as Omar.

  I leaned back into the leather seat, desperately wishing I were anywhere else. Fleur didn’t talk most of the car ride, staring out the car window instead. Samir and Omar spent most of the drive speaking in Arabic. We ended up at Babel again.