Smitten by the Brit--A Sometimes in Love Novel

by Melonie Johnson

  “Point made.” Cassie placed her hand on Logan’s mouth, a pretty blush rising in her cheeks.

  Theo chuckled, pleased—and relieved—to see them so happy, so content. His friend’s relationship with Cassie had progressed so quickly, at first it was a bit of a shock. Last summer back in London, Theo had known there’d been something special between the two. He wouldn’t say he believed in love at first sight or anything, but not too long ago, Theo recalled a much different Logan. One who swore he’d never get married. He wondered what, precisely, had changed his mate’s mind. He’d have to remember to ask him.

  The Scot prodded him with an elbow. “I’m that glad to see you. But I canna help wondering, what are you doing here?”

  Theo sighed. “I’m in town to attend some bloody charity event tomorrow evening.”

  “Whatever for?” Logan cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t have any quid to spare.”

  “Logan!” Cassie smacked her fiancé on the arm. To Theo, she said, “Don’t mind him.”

  “Never do,” Theo blithely assured her. “Though Lo has the right of it.” His lips curled in a self-deprecating smirk. “Apparently, the pleasure of my company still holds some worth.” He glanced at Logan. “I’m escorting an old family friend.”

  “Ah.” The Scot’s other ginger brow rose to join the first. “Is yer sainted mama still on her quest, then?”

  “Does the sun still rise in the east and set in the west?” Theo raised his glass.

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Camille Fairfax. She’s attending grad school here in the city. Her brother, Ethan, went to St. Andrews with us.”

  “That git we played rugby with?” Logan grunted. “Didn’t we also play a few pranks on him?”

  “Indeed, we did.” Theo’s mouth curved in a mischievous smile, mirroring his friend’s.

  “What pranks? Who? What’s happening?” Cassie interrupted, glancing furtively around the room like she expected someone’s hair to light on fire. Considering she was engaged to the host of a late-night talk show known for punking celebrities, her concern was not unfounded.

  “Nobody here, hen,” Logan assured her. “Just some prat we used to know.”

  She stared at her fiancé, hands on hips, lips still pinched with a hint of suspicion.

  Theo didn’t blame her. The first time Cassie had met Logan, he’d been filming a prank for his internet sketch show, Shenanigans, and she’d been adamant in her refusal to act as a punchline to one of the Scot’s jokes. Who could have predicted that inopportune meeting would lead those two here? Theo shook his head. “Let’s change the subject.” He turned to Cassie. “How about you fill your best man in on some wedding details?”

  “Really?” Cassie’s face glowed with pleasure.

  “Och,” Logan groaned. “Now you’ve gone and done it, lad. It’ll be nothing but guest lists and napkin colors and floral arrangements and all manner of matrimonial prattle.”

  “A tragedy, I’m sure,” Theo scoffed. For all his belly-aching, the Scot appeared perfectly sanguine about the ordeal. Theo, however, dreaded the topic of marriage. He tipped his glass, swallowing the last of the fruity cocktail. The “quest” Logan had been asking after, was his “sainted mama’s” determination to see Theo wed. Preferably to an attractive dowry. The appearance of the bride and his feelings for her were inconsequential. A lack of emotion didn’t matter, so long as there wasn’t a lack of funds.

  “Emberton!” a distinctly British voice barked from somewhere behind him.

  “Bloody hell.” Theo stiffened at his official title. He wasn’t expecting to run into anyone else who knew him this evening. He turned, gaze narrowing on the couple making their way toward him from across the room, frantically searching his mental database. “Ah, Professor Newton.” Theo reached out a hand in greeting as his brain successfully produced a name to go with the face beaming up at him from beneath a crown of laurel. The effect wasn’t nearly as fetching as it had been on a certain redhead.

  “Fancy seeing you here, lad.” The older man shook Theo’s hand, chortling. He gestured at the medallion and sash. “A bit lazy with the costume, aren’t we?”

  “One works with what one has,” Theo murmured.

  “Fair enough. Who are you supposed to be then, eh?”

  “Duke Orsino, as a charming young lady hazarded to guess.” He turned toward the statuesque woman standing next to the professor. The Cleopatra get-up had thrown him for a moment, but on closer inspection, he recognized Barbara Hamilton, an acquaintance of his mother’s. Though they did not run in the exact same circles, their social spheres often overlapped. He plastered a gallant smile on his face. “Had I known such an example of feminine perfection would be in attendance tonight, I would have put forth more effort. Perhaps donning my hotel bed linens and arriving dressed as Marc Antony.”

  “Flatterer.” Cleopatra chortled and held out her hand for Theo to kiss, pinching him on the cheek as he rose. “Do you always have such a silver tongue?”

  “Nay, madam, my mother taught me to speak the truth.” In the manner one saw fit, of course.

  “And how fares Her Grace?”

  “Well. Thank you.”

  “And your sisters?”

  “Also, well. All three of them.” Theo didn’t let his smile slip. He cleared his throat, wondering how quickly he could excuse himself.

  Logan saved him, sidling up next to them, full of cocky Highland swagger. “Theo here’s my best mate, and my best man, aye? We’ve got a wedding to plan.” Logan tugged on Cassie’s hand, pulling her into their circle. “I believe you know my fiancée?”

  Cleopatra clapped her hands. “Oh, it truly is a small world. Cassie darling, my congratulations.” She cast an eye back toward Theo. “Pleasant though it is to see you, dear boy, I admit I had approached with the hope to continue my conversation with the other young lady in your party.”

  “Sorry?” Theo frowned.

  He was saved again, this time by Cassie. “Unfortunately, Bonnie has left for the evening.”

  “Oh my, that is unfortunate.” Barbara tsked, and glanced at her companion. “Philip and I so wished to come to an agreement with her.”

  What’s all this? Theo wondered, suddenly very interested in the conversation. How did these two old birds know Bonnie?

  “I’m only in town for the weekend,” the professor said, training his furry-browed gaze on Cassie. “Would it be possible to arrange a meeting tomorrow afternoon? Perhaps invite her to tea?”

  “Oh, that will be delightful. You are a genius, Philip.” Barbara beamed at Cassie. “Yes, please extend an invitation to your friend. We can meet at … what was the name of the hotel you were telling me about, dear? Where they serve such a lovely high tea?”

  “The Drake.” Cassie’s eyes lit up. “That’s actually perfect. Bonnie adores that place. She’ll never be able to refuse.”

  Theo followed the conversation, savoring each new crumb of information about Bonnie. He shouldn’t be so interested, shouldn’t care so much. The girl was engaged to be married, and he had enough to concern him. Rather than demand Cassie tell him what the bloody hell this was all about, Theo schooled his features and continued to listen politely as the conversation shifted toward a review of some posh hotel’s elaborate afternoon tea menu.

  His belly rumbled. All this talk of food reminded Theo he was starving for more than details about a lovely redhead. He hadn’t had a bite since some quick takeaway at Heathrow. He shifted, discreetly scanning the crowded room for signs of nourishment. Blast. Didn’t they feed people at these soirees? He could do serious damage to a plate of cheese on toast right about now.

  “I’m off.” Barbara leaned in and air-kissed Cassie, astutely avoiding contact with Lady MacBeth’s bloody palms before turning to offer her hand to Theo once more.

  “So soon?” Theo asked, repressing a sigh of relief as he briefly brushed his lips across the woman’s knuckles.

  “Yes, well, Philip here needs his beauty sle
ep. Isn’t that right, Philip darling?”

  “Quite so,” her companion agreed, winking.

  Or, at least, he thought the old gent was winking. Hard to tell. Theo smiled broadly, trying not to stare at the pelt of scraggly hair wriggling over the professor’s left eye as they shook hands in farewell. “Good evening to you, then.”

  “Cassie, lass,” Logan said, after the couple had walked on. “I’ve been a good lad, have I not?”

  “You have…” She studied him, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

  “We-ell,” he drawled, his brogue stretching the word into two syllables. “I was thinking we could make our own getaway, you ken?”

  She glanced at Theo. “Is he up to something? Are the toilets going to start exploding?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Never mind,” she grumbled. “I suppose you want to get out of here too?”

  “Now that you mention it, I could do with a bite of supper,” Theo admitted.

  “See! It’s settled.” Logan stepped between Theo and Cassie. “We canna let the man starve, lass.” He put an arm over their shoulders and steered them toward the exit. “Theo, mate. Have you ever tried deep-dish pizza?”

  CHAPTER 4

  BONNIE STOOD ON the street corner, waiting for the traffic light to change. Her right hand drifted to her left, massaging the abraded skin of the finger that felt colder, more naked, than the others. The walk sign lit up, and she started forward, fisting her hands inside her pockets and ducking her head against the rain. She was grateful she’d put on a warmer coat, but she hadn’t thought to grab her umbrella, and no way in Hades was she going back to the apartment.

  Fair is foul and foul is fair. The words drifted through her mind as she splashed through an icy puddle. She recalled the Weird sisters back in the bathroom at Navy Pier and shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her mouth. Too bad she hadn’t asked them to read her fortune. Maybe they could’ve warned her how horribly this night would end.

  At the next intersection, she headed east. As she got closer to the lake, the rain began to taper off. The air somehow felt warmer here, the city quieter. Everything was muted, the sharper edges of noise and cold insulated by a soft drifting mist.

  Hover through the fog and filthy air. Dodging more puddles, Bonnie continued to silently recite lines from Macbeth, retreating to a well-worn groove in her brain. Comfortable and familiar. Safe.

  That’s what she thought Gabe had been.

  That’s what she thought her life had been.

  In a rush, all that had transpired in the last few hours came flooding back, and her momentary sense of peace evaporated. Lost and disoriented, Bonnie glanced up and down the street, wiping her eyes and fighting a sniffle. She caught the warm glow of light spilling onto the sidewalk from the windows of a café, and instinctively began moving toward the entrance. A cup of tea was exactly what she needed to pull herself together.

  After placing her order, Bonnie carried a steaming mug to a snug little booth. When she’d stormed out of the apartment, she’d just wanted to get away. That had been the extent of her plan. She’d had enough presence of mind to grab her phone and her purse, so at least she had credit cards. She could get a hotel room or something. Maybe call Cassie.

  Wait. Cassie was out with Logan … and Theo was with them.

  So that option was out.

  The hotel room idea could work, though last minute on a Friday night in Chicago would be tough, not to mention expensive. Bonnie swiped through the contacts on her phone, considering possibilities while the tea steeped. Out of her close circle of friends, her best bet would be Ana, who owned a duplex on the northern outskirts of the city. Scooting deeper into the booth, she dialed.

  “Ana’s phone.” A familiar voice, though not the one Bonnie had been expecting, giggled in her ear.

  “Sadie?”

  “At your service.” Another giggle. “What can I do for you?”

  “It’s Bonnie. I thought you were still in New York.”

  “Flew in this morning for Passover. Since I’m not stuck filming the soap anymore, Daddy insisted on a family holiday this year. I think he’s having an elemental crisis or something.” Sadie hiccupped into the phone.

  “Existential,” Bonnie corrected automatically.

  “What’s essential?” Sadie slurred, s sounds sloshing together.

  “Never mind. Can I talk to Ana please?”

  “Oh, sure! Why didn’t you say so before?”

  Bonnie tipped the phone away from her ear as Sadie yelled for Ana.

  “Hold on,” Sadie said, her voice thankfully returning to a somewhat normal volume. “She’s in the can.”

  “Excellent. I am sure Ana will be delighted to know you’ve shared this information with me.”

  Sadie dropped her voice to a dramatic stage whisper. “I think she’s puking.”

  “Oh no!” Bonnie felt her own stomach drop. If Ana was sick, the last thing she wanted to do was impose.

  “Yeah,” Sadie continued, “we were supposed to be baking, but I decided to taste test some new Kosher-friendly wines. That stuff my nana always brings to Seder is shit. Shit, I tell you! And we have to drink four glasses of it!”

  Once again, Bonnie tilted the phone away from her ear. As she’d learned firsthand from many a college party, along with diction, Sadie also lost volume control when she was hammered. “How many glasses have you had tonight?”

  “Dunno. More than Ana. And she’s had a lot.”

  Relieved Ana was only booze-sick and not real sick, and starting to wish she had a glass of wine herself, Bonnie tried one more time. “Do you think you can ask Ana to call me back, when she’s done, you know…”

  “Puking? Sure,” Sadie jovially agreed. “Oh wait, here she is now. Bye-bye, Bon-neeeee!” Sadie dragged the end of Bonnie’s name out in a long singsong before she was abruptly caught off.

  “Hello?” Ana’s voice was a tad scratchier than her natural husky tone, but otherwise seemed normal.

  “Hey, Ana, it’s Bonnie.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Ana never was one to waste time on niceties, and her intuition was uncanny. Bonnie debated hedging, but experience had taught her that sooner or later Ana would drag the truth out of her, and besides, she was calling because she needed Ana’s help, so sooner was better than later anyway. “Um … do you think I can crash at your place tonight?”

  “You know you’re always welcome here, Bon,” Ana began, then hesitated.

  “There’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere, isn’t there?” Bonnie asked, surprised at the surge of relief she felt. Tonight, she really wanted to be alone. If Ana was hesitating on inviting her over, then she could justify spending the money on a hotel room.

  “What? No, no buts. It’s just, I promised my mom I’d make a bunch of my matzah version of Mandel bread, and Sadie’s here, and I don’t think she’s going home tonight…” Ana drifted off.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s cool.” In the background, Bonnie could hear the tinkling of glasses.

  “I am going to worry about it. Why are you looking for a place to stay?”

  “Not a big deal.” Bonnie shrugged, then recalled Ana couldn’t see her over the phone. “I’ll think of something, maybe book a hotel room.”

  “A hotel room?” Ana’s voice rose with concern. “Bonnie, seriously, what’s going on?”

  “I just need some downtime.” Bonnie decided to hedge after all. If she wasn’t going to have to face Ana in person tonight, she could put off the explanations until later.

  Before Ana could reply, Sadie grabbed the phone back. “Bonnie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did I hear you say you’re looking for a hotel room?”

  “Um, yes?” Where was Sadie going with this?

  “Well, why don’t you take Daddy’s?”

  “Oh no, I can’t. I couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Bonnie really didn’t have an answer. Not a good one, anyway. Why not
indeed? Sadie’s father worked for a major hotel chain. His job title had lots of acronyms and came with lots of perks, including a room at the Waldorf Chicago on permanent retainer, and not just any room—a suite. Sadie had hosted a slumber party in the luxurious space for her twenty-first birthday. A flurry of memories inundated Bonnie. She recalled high ceilings, tall, gleaming windows overlooking Lake Michigan and the Gold Coast, a bathroom outfitted like a spa, and a bed fit for royalty.

  “Um, I don’t want to impose.”

  Sadie giggled.

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m not laughing at you. You should see the face Ana is making right now.” Another snort of laughter escaped Sadie. “Oh, please,” she protested, voice muffled, “it can’t taste as bad as my nana’s!” A moment later she addressed Bonnie, her tone serious. “Come on, Bon, take the room. It’s just sitting there, waiting for someone to use it. I’ll call Missy and tell her to alert the hotel staff.”

  Missy was Sadie’s father’s assistant. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure. Just tell them who sent you and you’ll be good to go.”

  Bonnie sipped her tea, imagining that enormous bathtub, picturing herself sinking below a froth of scented bubbles, and then climbing into that big soft bed—a bed her fiancé hadn’t been screwing somebody else on. “Well, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s, like, no trouble at all.”

  “All right, if you insist.”

  “I insist. Seriously, Bon. Go. You’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t.”

  “Okay, okay. You’ve convinced me.”

  “Good—wait!” Sadie yelled, “Don’t dump that in the sink, I’ll drink it!”

  There was a moment of muffled shuffling, and then Ana was on the phone again. “So, you’re all set?” she asked.

  “I am, thanks.” Bonnie glanced around the café, which had begun to empty while she’d been talking. A few other customers lingered while servers wiped down tables, flipping chairs and stacking them in a blatant hint. “Hey, I better get going.”

  “Yeah, me too. I need to get Miss Tipsy here sobered up before Seder starts tomorrow night. How about a late brunch on Sunday? I’m going to be dying for some carbs.”