“I wanted you to.”
She shakes her head and smiles again, looking back toward her family. “Thanks again. I had seen those boys playing soccer—”
“Football.”
“Yes, I know.” She rolls her eyes at me, and I love it. “Anyway, I had seen them, but had somehow missed that he was with them. So I’m glad I ran into you. Literally.”
“Me too.” So glad. “And I’m glad I was able to help. I don’t have any little ones in my life, but I know that must have been incredibly scary.”
“Yeah, it’s not something I’m aching to relive.”
We stand in silence for a moment, her eyes back on her family. “Might I ask your name?”
She looks back up at me and the way the sun hits her face would make a Hollywood light designer faint at the beauty. “I’m Ivy.” She extends her hand to shake, and I shock myself by bringing it to my lips and kissing it gently. Maybe I’ve lived in the U.S. for too long.
“A pleasure to meet you, beautiful Ivy.”
She holds back a smile, and I can tell she is doing her best not to be charmed. “Is this an English thing, or is this just who youare?” Definitely not an English thing.
I shrug. “Aren’t you going to ask for my name?”
“Will you expect me to kiss your hand if I do?”
This draws out a surprised laugh from me. “It’s a requirement here in England. When you meet someone, but only learn their name later, you must kiss their hand upon introduction.”
“That is an interesting custom. Clearly, I have a lot to learn.”
“Clearly you do.”
“One thing I don’t need to learn is your name.”
I place my hand over my heart. “That hurts. Not to mention that you won’t know how to label the contact when you put my number in your phone.”
“You’re awfully presumptuous, Alexander Henry.”
I squint at her accusingly. “So you know who I am.”
“I do live on Earth.”
She’s funny. “It’s just not impressive to you that I'm a famous actor?”
“I’m not saying you aren’t great at what you do. I’ve just never been one to think celebrities are any more important than anyone else. I mean, my brother-in-law is great at his job, but does anyone know who he is? Or care? No.”
Ah, okay, this I can work with. This I kind of like. I’m about to respond when the girl, Peter’s sister, I assume, walks over.
“Hey, mister. I’m Juniper.”
“Hello, Juniper. Lovely to meet you. I’m Alexander.”
“Ohh! A real English person! The only one we’ve met so far was at the hotel and he was cranky. And didn’t really talk to us.”
“Alexander is the one who found Peter,” Ivy says as her sister and brother-in-law walk up with Peter.
Peter looks thoroughly chastised and doesn’t look in my direction, but both his parents do a double take. I laugh, then elbow Ivy lightly in the ribs. “Some people are impressed,” I whisper toward her. “I take it my disguise isn’t working,” I say to the group.
“You should grow a handlebar mustache,” Ivy suggests, the glint in her eye making my smile grow.
I extend my hand to the sister. “Hello, I’m Alexander.” Then to her husband—we shake, and then he introduces himself and his wife, who is openly staring, her gaze bouncing around between me and her sister.
