London Bound (A Heart of the City romance Book 3)

by C. J. Duggan

  ‘I tried, but I guess that balcony climbing really tuckered you out … among other things. Tea?’ Jack sipped on his cup once more before stirring the other. Oh, he was so bloody cocky he didn’t even attempt to hide it! A late-night urge for distraction and pleasure was going to result in a shaming I would never live down.

  ‘Where are my clothes?’

  Jack’s brows drew together as if he was thinking deeply about my question. ‘I’m not sure, they didn’t exactly stay on for long.’

  I sighed, trying to decide between throwing a cushion at him and demanding my clothes or wrapping the cashmere throw around me like a toga and climbing out the window, giving the residents of Onslow Gardens a sight they were not likely to forget. Either way, this would be the first and last time I climbed over Jack Baker’s terrace.

  ‘Jack, please, if Nan finds out I’m—’

  ‘You’ll what? Be sent to bed without any supper? Be put under house arrest? Oh no, that’s right – you’re a consenting adult, not a prisoner.’

  ‘I just … I don’t want to complicate matters. Things have been improving somewhat and I just want to keep it that way.’

  ‘Is that why you were in such a good mood yesterday?’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Yes, Jack. That’s why I climbed over your balcony and set upon ravishing you last night: because of my improving relationship with my nana. Do you seriously think that’s the reason I came?’

  ‘Not at all, just nice to have it confirmed.’ Jack took another sip of tea, quite a feat considering his lips were rather busy smirking. ‘Checked your stats lately?’ Jack sat down at his sleek glass dining table. He was dressed casually, no suit, just a nice navy polo and dark jeans, his hair damp from the shower.

  ‘Well, my routine has somewhat altered this morning, but as soon as I find my clothes and get back home I’ll be sure to look.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Jack tilted his head to the left of me; I followed his eyeline to the chair, upon which sat my neatly folded clothes.

  ‘Oh.’ I blushed. ‘Right, thanks.’

  Jack smiled graciously. ‘Are you sure you don’t want some tea?’

  I bundled my clothes into my arms, trying my best to not let the blanket slip. ‘What is it with you Brits thinking everything can be solved with a nice cup of tea?’

  Jack shrugged. ‘It’s kind of our superpower.’

  I smiled, shuffling an awkward path over to him. He watched with great interest. I pecked him on the cheek. ‘Where’s your bathroom?’

  Jack simply shook his head.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, you’re going to have to pay a bigger toll than that, I’m afraid,’ he said, hooking his finger into the front of my blanket and pulling me to him, stealing a sweet, gentle kiss. I could feel the heat creep up my skin; the edges of my mind that were so determined and clear only a moment before now seemed foggy and confused when I looked into his deep brown eyes. I would have stayed forever, I really didn’t care about anything as I watched a slow smile spread across his face. I blinked out of my trance when he finally spoke.

  ‘First door to your left.’

  I picked up my phone from my bedside table. ‘Oh, you have got to be kidding me!’

  My phone was dead, deader than dead. I followed the charger cord to the powerpoint only to find it wasn’t switched on.

  ‘Perfect!’

  In my eagerness to see Jack last night I had literally plugged and run. It was all his fault, the way he was always derailing my thoughts. I pulled the charger from the wall socket, not wanting to delay my arrival downstairs a second longer.

  How do you disguise the ‘I’ve just had sex’ look when walking into a room?

  I was about to find out.

  ‘Good morning!’ I sing-songed; it was a better alternative than cringing at the no doubt stone-cold breakfast Vera had fixed for me.

  ‘Sorry I’m late, Vera, I do love your full English spreads,’ I said, moving to the sideboard and plugging in my phone charger before taking my seat and avoiding Nana’s searing gaze.

  ‘Looks great!’ I said, flicking out my napkin and placing it over my lap.

  ‘You look different.’

  My head snapped around to meet Nana’s interrogative gaze, trying my best to look innocent.

  ‘Different? How so?’ I laughed, busying myself by lifting the lid from the bacon tray.

  ‘Just, different,’ she said, chewing thoughtfully on the edge of her toast. I had psyched myself up for a dressing down, a chastising over being late, but it never came. It left me even more uneasy, wondering if this was the calm before the storm.

  ‘Kate, we’re heading down to High Street if you want to come for a walk. I know you said you wanted to get some exercise.’ Vera smiled at me.

  I tried not to choke on my toast, thinking about how many calories I had burned on Jack’s couch last night. My answer was saved by the buzzing of my phone.

  ‘What is that noise?’ asked Nana, her pinched face looking around the room.

  ‘Oh, it’s just my phone charging, Nana.’

  ‘Ugh, vile things.’

  ‘It’s on silent.’

  But in the still morning of Nana’s breakfast room even the vibrations of a phone on a sideboard seemed painfully loud, and there were certainly a lot of vibrations.

  ‘Someone’s popular,’ said Vera, sipping her juice, brows raised in interest. I would like to think that the buzzing signified multitudes of text messages from Jack, professing his undying love for me, but I was pretty sure he didn’t have my number. He’d been inside me but, no, didn’t have my number.

  Buzz, buzz, buzz.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Katherine, turn it off!’ snapped Nana.

  ‘All right, all right,’ I said, throwing aside my napkin and moving to my phone. I was keen to see what was going on, anyway. Was my phone faulty, or was it in need of an app update? Either way, I had to admit that, even for me, the sound was pretty annoying.

  ‘Okay, let’s see what we can see,’ I said, tapping in the password. ‘Oh my God.’

  ‘Kate, what is it?’ Vera asked. I blinked, looking up from my screen, remembering that I the captive audience of Vera’s worried eyes and Nana’s sneer. My pulse jack-hammered and my knees shook.

  ‘Um, I … I think there’s something wrong with my phone.’

  ‘Oh no, is it not working?’

  I glanced down at my screen, reading it once more and shaking my head.

  ‘Throw it away then; nothing good can come of those things, if you ask me,’ Nana said, but all I could hear was white noise. The conversation that carried on between Vera and Nana didn’t register with me as I blinked and stared, blinked and stared.

  ‘Earth to Kate.’

  ‘Sorry, what?’

  ‘Did you want some more tea?’

  Tea, yes, tea solved everything, right? Maybe a magical cup could give me some answers. Instead, I yanked my phone from the wall.

  ‘Actually, I think I might go see if I can troubleshoot my phone.’

  ‘But what about your breakfast?’ Nana asked, perturbed.

  ‘Oh sorry, I’m really not that hungry.’ And before another question could stop me, I walked slowly to the doorway, after which I legged it to the staircase. Running up to my room so fast that I misstepped twice. I steamed through my room until I hit the terrace doors, I was ready to jump from my balcony to the next if need be, but instead I came to a skidding halt as my eyes landed on Jack, sitting on his balcony and looking up from his newspaper expectantly.

  Wheezing and coughing, unable to speak, I rested my hands on my knees, shaking my head. God, I was seriously unfit.

  Jack lowered his newspaper and leant back in his chair, watching me as the corner of his mouth curved up.

  ‘I’m guessing you checked your stats, then?’

  I shook my head. ‘It can’t be.’

  Jack took his phone from his table and read his screen. ‘Seven hundred and forty-one shares.’

>   ‘Are you sure?’

  Jack laughed. ‘As sure as I’m sitting here.’

  ‘My post has gone nuts.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘No, love, your post has gone viral.’

  ‘Viral? How?’

  ‘I ran a search. Have you heard of a magazine called London Bound?’

  ‘Are you kidding me? Everyone knows that magazine, it’s huge.’

  Jack thumbed over his smart phone, before holding out it out to me. ‘I think you’ll find that this had something to do with it.’

  Jack’s balcony was close, but not so close that I could read the screen. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Charlotte Whitakers’ Top Five. You’ve hit her movers and shakers list in London Bound and that’s all you’ll ever need.’

  ‘Holy shit, Charlotte fucking Whitakers?’

  Jack laughed. ‘You know her then?’

  ‘Well, no, but I know of her, and I know how much of a big deal this is – I mean, London Bound? Are you for real?’

  ‘Doors are going to open for you, Kate, to places you can’t even begin to imagine.’

  I felt a lump in my throat. ‘But what did I do?’

  Jack smiled at his screen. ‘Near on eight hundred shares.’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ I screamed, refreshing my phone, scrolling down the screen. ‘Oh my God, Jack, look at all the comments.’

  ‘You’re in for a busy night.’

  ‘I don’t even know where to start, I can’t even fathom—’

  ‘Kate.’

  My eyes flicked up from my screen.

  ‘You got this.’

  It was nice of him to think so, but in that moment I felt like I most definitely did not have ‘this’. I couldn’t even begin to conceive of what ‘this’ is. I felt like a fraud.

  ‘Will you help me, you know, until I find my feet with all this?’ I asked, grimacing with embarrassment.

  Jack smiled reassuringly. ‘Every step of the way.’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  ‘Why am I so nervous, Vera?’

  I stood in front of a full-length mirror, marvelling at the job Cybil had done, adjusting the waist and hips of the dress to better fit my frame. It didn’t need a dramatic alteration, but I wouldn’t tell Nana Joy that: whatever made her feel better.

  ‘Oh, you’ll be fine once you get there, just make sure you enjoy every minute of it. You look absolutely lovely,’ Vera said, patting me on the arm. It was all well and good to feel glamorous and special in my beautiful vintage dress, but the real test would be Nana’s appraisal, one I was definitely not looking forward to. It felt like walking the green mile – I wish I had a priest saying a prayer beside me.

  The dress swished as I made my way down the stairs. I wished I could have saved this entrance for when Jack was here, but it was important to get Nana out of the way to save embarrassment and/or potentially spoiling the moment. Concentrating on walking in the unfamiliar shoes, I lifted my skirt as I entered the lounge where Nana sat, heels clicking across the foyer.

  She cast her cold eyes over me from top to bottom. I psyched myself up for: ‘Have you put on weight?’ ‘You really are quite hippy, aren’t you?’ ‘Are you really going to wear that shade of rouge?’

  I had put on a mental suit of armour, telling myself that, no matter what she said, I wouldn’t let it spoil my night. So when Nana said, ‘You look lovely,’ I near on fell over.

  ‘I do?’

  ‘Of course you do, I have excellent taste,’ she sniffed, and there was the Nana Joy I had come to know.

  ‘Well, you most certainly do; out of all of them I am so glad you chose this one,’ I said, spinning around, only to lock eyes with Nana, her expression stormy.

  ‘All of them?’

  Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.

  ‘Ah, yes, well, I mean, I assume this is one of many …’ I stammered, hunting around for a way to talk my way out of the mess I’d landed myself in.

  ‘You went into my room, didn’t you.’

  ‘I-I discovered the room by accident; you see, I was looking for an umbrella … it really is the most incredible collection, Nana Joy, I’ve been obsessed with beauty and fashion and I can tell you it’s absolutely—’

  ‘Did you touch my things?’

  ‘Um, yes, but nothing has ever left the room or the house and I have been nothing but respectful, I know how valuable your collection must be.’

  ‘You know nothing.’

  I stood frozen in the middle of the lounge, terrified beyond measure. I had seen Nana’s eyes ablaze, heard her clipped tones before, but never had I seen such a rage burn under the surface as it did now. I could imagine her stripping me of my dress and kicking me out into the street. I couldn’t think of anything to say that might appease the apparent betrayal. I wished Jack would hurry up and get here; if anyone was going to save the day, I knew he could.

  Right on cue, the doorbell rang. I had never been so grateful for anything in my life.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ I called, leaving Nana to quietly fume. I ran to the door, opening it up and coming to a stop, my mouth agape. Any worry I had left my mind, along with the ability to speak coherently.

  In the doorway, dressed in a black tuxedo and bow tie, hair slicked back like a forties’ movie star, stood Jack. He’d never looked more handsome and I could barely think of an appropriate compliment; instead, he beat me to it.

  ‘You look beautiful, Kate.’ His dark eyes drank me in from head to toe, saying far more than his words.

  ‘Oh.’ I blushed, looking down at my dress. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I’ll be the envy of every man at the ball.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ I said, glancing behind me and desperately wanting to leave.

  ‘Oh, Jack, don’t you look right handsome,’ said Vera, waddling down the hallway. ‘Come, come, show Joy what a fine couple you two make.’

  I closed my eyes, cringing at the thought and bracing myself for the worst. So when Nana was, instead, sickly sweet and complimentary to us both, I was incredibly unsettled.

  ‘Well, have a good time, you two; remember, take plenty of pictures.’ Vera waved us out the door.

  I slid my arm through Jack’s and he led me to the front door, but not before seeing Nana’s smile fall away in the reflection of the mirror in the foyer; it was enough to give me chills. I was filled with guilt, and trepidation about what would greet me when I returned home. But I was unable to do anything about it right now, so I chose to concentrate on the warmth of Jack’s arm, the excitement of the evening ahead, and my recent success with the blog.

  By the time the ball had come around, my blog post on Nana Joy’s wardrobe had been shared over two hundred thousand times. My website had been viewed nearly seven hundred thousand times, with four hundred thousand unique visitors. I was overwhelmed at first, but Jack had been a rock, navigating the social waves and making sure my site didn’t crash, my links worked, and even finding a way for me to make money from it, using affiliate links and sponsored posts.

  ‘Hey, I’ve got something to show you,’ Jack said, slowing his step as we walked through the foyer and reaching into the inner pocket of his tux. He handed me a folded piece of glossy paper. ‘For the scrapbook,’ he said, watching as I unfolded the article. My spirits instantly lifted. There was my name, a link to my blog, a photo and bio under the heading ‘Movers and Shakers’ by Charlotte Whitakers.

  I laughed. ‘This is amazing. I meant to I tell you – she emailed me!’

  A line pinched between Jack’s brow. ‘When?’

  ‘This morning. She wants to meet with me – actually meet me at London Bound HQ – can you believe it?’

  Jack took the article from my hands, removing the distraction and placing it on the sideboard, apparently annoyed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I am, now. I was just so crazy busy getting ready for tonight that I guess it slipped my mind. I did reply.’

  ‘Oh Jesus.’ Jack rubbed the side of his face. �
�Right, and what did you say?’

  I frowned. Now I was getting mad. ‘I did just as you told me to do: I was myself. I gave her some background on me, told her I love her work and that I can’t wait to meet her in person.’

  I thought that the fact I had taken his advice might have pleased him, but he didn’t seem convinced.

  ‘Just tell me when things like that happen.’

  I gathered up my gown, stepping around him. ‘Why, are you my agent now?’ I snapped, regretting it the moment I said it.

  Jack sighed.

  ‘Let’s just have a good night, yeah? Put all this aside, not think about likes or shares or views, just for one night.’

  I nodded in agreement, admitting, to myself at least, that my blogging had taken up a lot of airspace lately. And Jack had supported me every step of the way. Looking into his dark brown eyes, I knew I loved him. I wouldn’t tell him as much just yet, though. I slid my hand into his and smiled.

  ‘There is nothing I would love more.’

  Jack led me into the lobby of the Corinthea, a luxury hotel and former British Government building that was located on a triangular site between Trafalgar Square and the Thames Embankment. The façade of the building had been sympathetically restored, but inside it was jaw-dropping, modern luxury throughout. It was a place that felt buzzy and lively yet, by some magic, still managed to exude a quiet calm. The soft colour palette of muted greys, lilacs and creams was interspersed with pieces of modern art, and seasonal floral lobby displays; the result was stunning. Jack squeezed my hand, diverting my attention back to him.

  ‘I’ll check us in,’ he said.

  ‘Wait, check us in?’

  Jack laughed. ‘You’ll see,’ he said, leaving me to stare in awe at my surroundings. Maybe this explained my fascination with goods from another world: like my couture dress that had a life lived way before mine, in this moment, in this place, I could pretend to be someone else, stepping into an alternative world where I was someone fabulous. A princess maybe? Hollywood royalty, or who knew, maybe a blogging sensation? Yeah, let’s not get too carried away, I thought, laughing quietly to myself. Maybe tonight I would be a Katherine, standing in the stunning lobby lounge with its soaring ceilings, anchored by a spectacular Baccarat chandelier I was completely enamoured with.