That old smirk tugged at his mouth. “Because I still know you, Daisy.”
Her heart kicked against her ribs. “Do you have a big enough place?”
“More than enough room,” he promised. “We’ll barely even cross paths.”
She hesitated. It was a huge ask, but also a once-in-a-lifetime experience for Amelia. And truthfully—for her, too.
Finally, she exhaled. “I guess we’re going to England.”
Loud cheers erupted from the other side of the door. When Daisy opened it, Anna and Amelia stood shoulder to shoulder, guilty grins plastered across their faces.
Jameson laughed while Anna exclaimed, “Don’t worry, my passport’s up to date! This was agroupinvite, right?”
Before he could object, Anna swept Amelia up into her arms and shouted, “Wembley!”
A few weeks later, they landed in London. The flight had been long and riddled with delays—just what Daisy’s anxiety needed. She’d nearly talked herself out of going a dozen times, but a promise to Amelia (and a very persuasive Anna) had kept her on track.
And though she hated to admit it, she was a little excited. TheAll Onelineup was stacked with legends, some of her favorite artists playing for a great cause. She hadn’t been surrounded by that kind of energy in years.
Once they were finally airborne, Daisy popped on a melatonin patch, tucked Amelia into her lie-flat business-class seat (courtesy of Jameson), and let herself drift.
When they landed, a chauffeur met them at Heathrow. Amelia was glued to the window the entire drive, marveling at the old stone buildings and narrow streets.
As they turned onto Jameson’s drive, Daisy’s breath caught. His house, tucked near Ravenscourt Park, was elegant and warm, a blend of brick charm and ivy-covered elegance. When Jameson appeared barefoot on the front steps, waving them down, she gulped.
Just four days,she reminded herself.You can do four days.
Amelia was out of the car before it even stopped, barreling into her dad’s arms and talking his ear off.
Anna, meanwhile, was paying the price for one too many in-flight cocktails, courtesy of a generous flight attendant named Tracy. Still wearing her oversized sunglasses, she murmured a quick, “How’s it going,” and disappeared inside, clearly in search of a bed.
Jameson watched her retreat, eyebrows raised. “Is she okay?”
Amelia answered, “She’s kind of drunk.”
Daisy stifled a laugh. “Hungover,” she corrected. “And cranky.”
“She must be hungover every time I see her then.”
Amelia burst out laughing while Daisy rolled her eyes.
He chuckled. “Come on. Let me give you the grand tour.”
Inside, the house was bold yet cozy—moody tones, an open kitchen, a recording room on the main floor, and a study-turned-guest room.
“The study’s dark and quiet,” he offered. “Perfect for Anna.”
“On it,” Anna mumbled, already halfway to the room. “Love the house. Wake me when it’s tomorrow.”
Jameson shook his head, amused, then led Daisy and Amelia outside. The garden was breathtaking. It housed a canopying magnolia tree, a stone patio with an outdoor kitchen, and a glimmering pool framed by climbing jasmine.
“If you’re up for it,” he said, “I was thinking I’d host a small get-together tomorrow night. Some friends, barbecue, maybe a swim. Make the most of your visit.”
“Sure,” Daisy said. “That sounds nice.”
“Yeah, so fun!” Amelia added. “Does Grandma live here, too?”
“No, sweetheart,” Jameson said, smiling. “She stays in Surrey when she’s in town. Actually, in my childhood home.”
