Royal Holiday

by Guillory, Jasmine

  It felt ridiculous, but she’d never connected the dots before about her hatred of surprises and the way her ex always reacted when he threw her those surprise parties. She always had to apologize to him when she didn’t enjoy them, when he knew she hated them.

  She looked back over at Malcolm to see how he was taking all of this decades-old baggage she’d just dumped on him.

  He didn’t seem fazed at all.

  “Well, I can promise a few things: There will be absolutely no surprise parties. I will tell you what to wear—within reason, to be clear! You can wear what you want, but I can give you . . . guidelines, how about that? And you are under no obligation to appreciate or thank me for any of this—remember, if we do it, it’s because you’re doing me a favor, not because I’m doing one for you.”

  She laughed at that, but he looked serious.

  “No, really, I mean it. Please feel free to tell me that actually, no, you want to approve everything, and I’ll be happy to tell you. But if you don’t, I know that it’s because you’ve taken pity on me and my dreadful week, and I appreciate it.”

  She kissed his cheek.

  “That’s not the only reason. It’s also because I trust you. You can have your surprises, but I’d better get those outfit guidelines!”

  He laughed.

  “Okay, I promise. Now”—he looked at his watch—“I scheduled a private tour of Buckingham Palace for us at ten thirty today. I’m happy to call to cancel if you—”

  “Seriously? A private tour of Buckingham Palace?” Maddie was going to DIE when she told her. “They said they weren’t doing any tours right now!”

  He grinned.

  “I may or may not have some pull in that area. Is that a yes? Do you want to go?”

  She jumped out of bed.

  “What time is it? Are we running late? I take really fast showers.”

  The smile on his face was so wide and warm she felt it down to her toes.

  “It’s only nine, so we have plenty of time. We can toss your suitcase in the boot of my car and bring it to my flat afterward.”

  She smiled back at him.

  “Perfect.”

  A little over an hour later, they drove down the wide street with parks on each side that led up to Buckingham Palace.

  “This is called the Mall,” Malcolm said. “On days like Trooping the Colour—the Queen’s official birthday celebration—and other big royal events, people line it on all sides. It’s pretty stunning.”

  Vivian looked around and smiled.

  “We have a Mall in our nation’s capital, too.”

  Malcolm glanced over at her with a grin on his face.

  “Where do you think you got the idea?”

  She continued, as if he hadn’t said anything.

  “Though ours leads up to a center of democracy, not monarchy.”

  Malcolm laughed out loud.

  “Sometimes, progress isn’t all bad.”

  They got closer to the palace, and Vivian looked up at the enormous stone building. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to get to go inside. Malcolm pointed to the top of it.

  “No flag—that means, if we had any doubt, that the Queen is not in residence.”

  “Oh good, I don’t have to worry about running into her again. I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself from curtsying a second time if we were inside a palace, and my American ego can’t handle that.”

  Malcolm was still laughing as the car slowed, and he . . . Good lord, he just pulled right up to the gates of the palace.

  When he said they’d drive there, she’d thought . . . Okay, maybe she hadn’t thought about it at all, but she definitely didn’t think they would just drive up to the actual gold-tipped ornate gates of actual Buckingham Palace like they belonged there.

  But then, she supposed they did.

  Vivian looked around, and there was a crowd of people standing by the gates, staring into Malcolm’s car. She kept herself—barely—from giving them a beauty pageant wave, and instead looked straight ahead. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, though.

  Malcolm held up his badge to show the guards, and they glanced at it and waved him through.

  “I can’t believe I was just in a car that drove into Buckingham Palace,” she said. “I didn’t take any pictures because I didn’t want to embarrass you, but please know I wanted to.”

  He put his hand on hers and smiled at her.

  “I’m honored by both parts of that sentence.” He lifted her hand and brushed it against his lips. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

  She really wanted to lean over and kiss him, but restrained herself. They were in the parking lot at Buckingham Palace; it didn’t seem to be quite the appropriate place for that. She squeezed his hand instead.

  “Will there be scones?”

  He laughed and turned off the car.

  When they walked into the gleaming red, white, and gold state dining room, Vivian stopped and turned around in a circle, her eyes full of wonder.

  “All state dinners are held here, as well as other formal dinners,” their guide said.

  “Wow,” Vivian said. She looked overhead. “These chandeliers alone are worth this whole tour. And the ceiling! With the gold accents, it’s just stunning.”

  Malcolm looked around and smiled.

  “This place really is so awe-inspiring; it’s good for me to stop and remember that.”

  She’d asked the guide in advance if she could take pictures and had taken a few in every room. He kept waiting for her to take a selfie with him, like she’d done in all of those places in London with her daughter, but she never did.

  When they walked out to his car in the palace parking lot over an hour later, she beamed at him.

  “Thank you. For arranging that, for letting me spend so much time there, for you and Geraldine answering all of my questions, for everything.” Her eyes crinkled, and her smile got sly. “I would kiss you right now for all of that, but I’ll wait until we’re a safe distance away from the palace.”

  Before he could help himself, he glanced back toward the palace to see if anyone who knew him was around to hear that, and she laughed out loud.

  “I love how tense you get at the mere suggestion of kissing in public. I seem to remember you were a little different on Christmas Eve.”

  His cheeks got warm when he thought about how he’d kissed her at the party, in full view of anyone who had walked in the dining room.

  “That was different. First, it was at a party. Second, there was mistletoe. Third, there was whatever that cocktail was that Julia concocted. There was no possible way for me not to kiss you under all of those circumstances.”

  He brushed her cheek with his finger, and she smiled up at him.

  “Why don’t we head over to your flat, so we have some privacy?” she said.

  “That’s an excellent idea,” he said.

  He couldn’t wait to be alone with her again, so of course it took far longer than usual for him to drive from the palace to his building. He sighed with relief when they finally pulled into the garage.

  “Is it unusual to have parking in an apartment building in London?” she asked.

  He lifted her suitcase out of the boot of his car.

  “Somewhat, and I pay a premium for it,” he said. “But there are some days where I need to be able to drive to work.” He shrugged. “I was going to make a big thing about how my job is so important and that’s why I live here and pay a mint for parking, but really it’s because when my marriage split up and I bought this place, I wanted as many conveniences as possible.” He led her toward the elevator. “I took this place over another flat that Sarah liked much better, because it had parking, a dishwasher, and a really excellent takeaway curry place right downstairs. Now you know how truly lazy I am.”

  She slid her arm through his as soon as they got in the elevator, and it took everything in his power not to pull her close.

  “We all have our f
aults, but wanting parking in the building, a dishwasher, and easy access to good curry don’t seem like faults to me,” she said. “They just make you seem like someone who knows what he likes, that’s all.”

  He looked down at her face, shining up at him.

  “I know exactly what I like,” he said.

  Her cheeks got pink, but she didn’t look away.

  “So do I,” she said.

  To hell with it, he could kiss her in this elevator. He should kiss her in this elevator.

  Just as he was about to, the elevator doors opened. He glanced up to see his neighbor looking back at him. He nodded at his neighbor, whose name he’d managed never to discover in his five years living here, and his neighbor nodded back to him. He waited for Vivian to get off the elevator, then led her down the hall to his flat.

  “I’m in here,” he said as he unlocked his front door. He opened the door for her, and she walked in.

  “Wow. Oh wow,” she said as she entered his living room. He left her suitcase by the front door and followed her over to the floor-to-ceiling window in the room. “This is incredible,” she said.

  He put his arm around her and smiled.

  “Oh yeah. That was the other reason I took this flat, aside from the dishwasher and the parking.”

  “And the curry,” she reminded him.

  “Right, and the curry,” he said. “There was also this view.”

  They stood there together looking out over London. The sun sparkled on the Thames as it wound its path in front of them, alongside landmarks he loved and hated, parts of the city he went to all the time, and parts he’d never visited.

  “It’s gorgeous.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “How do you not stay here all day, just watching?”

  He laughed.

  “Luckily for me, it’s often very dreary in London, so most of the time when I leave in the morning, I can barely even see the river. But this is another reason I’m pleased the sun was out for you today, so you can see this view in all of its splendor. I hope it’s still clear later tonight, when the whole city is lit up.”

  She smiled up at him.

  “Me too.”

  He couldn’t believe he’d finally gotten her back to his flat. They were no longer in public, or on the grounds of his employer, the places they’d been almost the entire time they’d known each other. Even her hotel, as nice as it was, still wasn’t actually private. But here, he had her all to himself.

  He leaned down to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. She seemed as eager to kiss him, to be here with him, as he was to be with her. Her enthusiasm to spend time with him, to laugh with him, to talk to him, to make love with him, all matched his. He’d almost given up on the possibility of that ever happening.

  And she lived over five thousand miles away.

  No, that didn’t matter right now. She was here with him now, here in his flat now, here, kissing him now; that’s what mattered.

  He backed her away from the window and fell with her onto his sofa. She laughed as they toppled onto it together.

  “Is this what you do, hmm, Mr. Hudson?” She kissed his neck and unbuttoned his top button. “You bring women back to your flat and dazzle them with your incredible view and then tackle them onto the couch?”

  Almost never, actually. It was rare for him to click with a woman enough for him to want her in his space. The last few women he’d slept with, he’d gone back to their places, and the relationships hadn’t lasted long enough for him to need to invite them over. He’d only had one other date here since he moved into this place, and that had been shortly after he’d moved in; before he realized it was better to keep his home to himself.

  “It worked, didn’t it?” he said. She laughed and continued to unbutton his shirt.

  When they finally surfaced, their clothes were thrown anywhere and everywhere, and they both had very satisfied smiles on their faces.

  “You know what?” Vivian said. “I think I like London a whole lot.”

  “Oh, do you?”

  He rolled on top of her and tickled her, just to hear her giggle.

  Chapter Eleven

  Vivian looked in her suitcase to try to figure out what to wear for her surprise night out with Malcolm. He’d told her to wear something “smart,” which was sort of helpful, but not at all as specific as she’d hoped for. If Maddie was around, she would know what “smart” meant to a fifty-something-year-old black British man. But Maddie was back at home, plus Vivian only had a handful of options here in London. Thank goodness she’d overpacked for this trip. She went with a silky magenta wrap dress, black tights and heels, and crossed her fingers that would be both smart enough and warm enough.

  After she put her lipstick on, she walked out of the bathroom into the living room to meet Malcolm. When he saw her, he stood up and bowed.

  “You look stunning,” he said. He took her coat out of his hall closet. “Just incredible.”

  He held up her coat, and instead of just handing it to her, he helped her put it on. He made her feel so taken care of. It felt unfamiliar and frightening and wonderful.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You look pretty great, too.”

  She picked up her new black clutch. Thank God she’d bought it when she and Maddie had done all of that shopping after they’d gotten to London, otherwise she’d be taking her enormous tote bag to wherever they were going tonight.

  “Shall we?” He opened the door and gestured for her to precede him.

  He seemed so excited about this surprise, but what if she hated whatever it was? Thank God she wasn’t afraid of heights, so she didn’t have to worry it was dinner on the top of a high building or something. But did he know she was claustrophobic? She should tell him.

  “Um, I promise I’m not asking where we’re going, but, it’s not a tight space, is it? I can be claustrophobic at times—I’m not thrilled with the tiny elevators you have here in London.”

  He laughed and took her hand as they got out of the elevator.

  “I promise, it’s not. But if this is making you too worried . . .”

  She shook her head.

  “No, it’s okay. I promise.”

  She hadn’t lied when she’d told Malcolm she trusted him, but that made her nervous, too—how did she have this innate sense of trust for someone she’d known for such a short time? That’s not how she usually was with people. But no matter how much she second-guessed herself about it, the trust was still there between them. She knew it deep down, and she was pretty sure he knew it, too. She was trying not to think about it, or question it too much, but at times she couldn’t help herself. The way they’d opened up to each other this morning, how comfortable she’d felt with him all day today—and really ever since they’d first met—how carefree and joyful and just plain great the sex had been . . . It was all like nothing she’d ever experienced. Why was this happening with someone who lived on another continent?

  They stood on the street to wait for a taxi, and she made herself shake off all her feelings and just enjoy the night, whatever it ended up being. When the taxi arrived, Malcolm opened the door for her and tucked her coat inside the car with her before closing it again. When he got in next to her, he leaned forward and whispered something to the driver. Then he turned and grinned at her.

  “This is killing you. Isn’t it?”

  She put her head in her hands.

  “It’s completely killing me, but I’m not going to ask, I swear.”

  He took her hand as they drove down the busy street.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll know soon enough.”

  She sighed, then laughed at herself.

  “I’m sure you think I’m ridiculous, don’t you?”

  He squeezed her hand.

  “Not at all. I think you’re marvelous for letting me surprise you.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Thank you.”

  Warmth spread across her chest. She squeezed his hand and released
it.

  “Thank you for making today so lovely. And I know if I asked, you’d tell me immediately, which I appreciate.”

  As they drove through London, she saw a few landmarks, but nothing that gave her any hints about where they were going.

  Twenty minutes later, the taxi pulled over and stopped. They must be there. Vivian looked outside for a clue. Yet another large, majestic, stone building. Oh yeah, that told her a lot.

  Malcolm took her hand again on the sidewalk. Now she knew he was trying to reassure her; this was as much of a public display of affection as Malcolm would ever do (with the exception of that kiss under the mistletoe).

  They walked up the steps of the building. Whatever kind of building it was, it looked closed, but she’d already learned things like that weren’t a barrier for Malcolm.

  Sure enough, the door swung open just as they got to the top.

  “Malcolm! Right on time, of course.”

  A short, round, smiling man with very pale skin and a big dark mustache held the door open for them. Vivian generally had a rule to never trust a man with a mustache, but this one was so adorable she had to smile back at him.

  “George, so good to see you, and thanks again. This is my friend, Ms. Vivian Forest, visiting from America. Vivian, this is George Marwick.”

  Vivian gave George her hand and was briefly convinced he would kiss it. He didn’t, but he pressed it between both of his and beamed at her.

  “Ms. Forest, welcome to the Victoria and Albert Museum!”

  “Thank you so much, it’s a joy to be here,” she said. Malcolm caught her eye and grinned. She could tell he knew she had no idea what the Victoria and Albert Museum was.

  “I believe this is your first visit to the V&A, is that correct, Ms. Forest?” George asked her.

  So much so that she hadn’t known it existed before, yes.

  “Please, call me Vivian,” she said. “And yes, it’s my first visit here. This is my first trip to England, as a matter of fact.”

  The little man gasped like she’d given him a special treat.