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“Miss Dennis?”
“You know it’s me, why are you asking?” I know I’m being rude, but I don’t care. These people have treated me and my sisters like our father’s accomplices for the last thirteen years; I’m sick of them.
“Miss Dennis, this is Agent Walker. We need to speak with you about your father’s case. Is this a good time?”
I scoff—as if they care if it’s a good time. “Actually, it’s not. Can we schedule for tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow will be too late. We’ve received our first substantial tip about your father’s whereabouts. We’d like to discuss it with you as soon as possible.”
My stomach takes a nosedive and I think my lunch might make a reappearance. I don’t want to have this conversation. There is a part of me that is curious, but I am also afraid of my father’s name becoming headline news again. I’m most afraid that the peace I’ve found in London will be disrupted because of it.
“Can I call you back in a few hours?” I say. I wince as hear the pleading tone of my voice. I hate that this whole situation makes me feel like a helpless thirteen-year-old all over again.
“Fine, but we will call you. Is three hours enough time?”
“Yes.” I clip and then hang up. If this is the last normal afternoon I’m going to have for a while, I intend to make the most of it. Fuck caution, I decide to fling it into the wind. I stride back into the restaurant with a smile on my face and plan coming to life in my mind.
An hour later, I’ve had two more of these delicious mimosas. My stomach is full and I feel the effects of the alcohol nicely.
Cara and Louis have hit it off something fierce. And I’ve decided I’m going to take Simon home. I know it’s crazy and a complete 180 degree turn from where I was this morning but he’s gorgeous and I am crazy attracted to him. And after my call with Agent Walker, I need this.
“Cara, come with me to the ladies, will ya?” She looks up at me with glazed eyes and smiles in her good natured way. We stand up to make our way to the lady’s restroom. We are both nicely toasted and giggle at nothing as we walk. Once we’re in and the door is locked, I turn to her and say, “Listen, I want to take Simon home with me… you good to get home on your own?”
Cara’s trademark bug eyed look has the same effect on me as it always does. I burst out laughing. “What? You’ve been bemoaning my cobwebbed pussy, I’m ready to dust it off. Can you help me with this or are you going to be a cock block?”
Cara throws her arms around my neck and jumps up and down like I just told her I had won the lottery. “Fuck yeah, Ad! I got you, girl. Go and get properly fucked. It is about time.” She’s practically squealing.
I laugh, but inside I am mess of nerves.
We walk out of the bathroom and into the restaurant. I look at Simon across the room. He looks up as if he feels me looking at him and we lock gazes. My nerves disappear. I want this. I need this, and I’m going to take it.
Simon’s eyes don’t leave mine as I approach the table and in the thirty seconds it takes me to cross the room, I feel like we’ve had an entire conversation. My eyes have told him what’s on my mind and in my heart; his eyes have told me he understands, and he wants the same thing.
As soon as we reach the table, he says, “We took care of the bill while you were gone. Are you ladies ready to get out of here?”
This is obviously a rhetorical question because he stands up and hands me my purse in one fluid motion. Cara looks at Louis. “Which way you going?”
“West, to Earl’s Court,” he replies with a smile matching hers.
“How convenient, I’m headed to Hammersmith. Want to ride together?”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes, let’s.” And with a swift peck on my cheek from Cara and wave from Louis, they are making their way out of the door.
I look at Simon, ready to make a quip about how I bet they’ll be going all the way to Earl’s Court together.
My quip dies in my throat though. Simon is looking at me with unabashed desire in his eyes. He doesn’t say a word. He puts his hand out for me to put mine into it. He links our fingers and brings my hand to his mouth. And without a word, we’ve reached an agreement.
He leads me out of the restaurant and we cross the street to catch the tube. But just as I start to dig around for my fare card, he sticks his hand out to hail a black cab.
We get in with the atmosphere around us seemingly electrified. The cabbie breaks our spell momentarily to bark, “Where to?”
“Is my place okay?” I ask Simon. He nods as if unable to speak. I rattle off my address to the cabbie and he pulls away from the curb.
Simon’s eyes are on my mouth—to say they are heated would be an understatement. His head comes toward mine and I feel my eyes fluttering closed. My lips are tingling in anticipation. This man. There is something about him that makes me feel like nothing is impossible. As he leans toward me, time slows, and I feel every single second of the moment.
Once his lips touch the corner of mouth, every thought flees my mind. They are warm and soft. The touch is as light as a whisper’s breath and yet I feel it all the way to the tips of my toes. He moves his lips across mine—brushing back and forth— and I know this will be unlike any kiss I’ve ever had before. With every single touch, I feel myself unraveling.
As soon as my mouth touches the corner of her mouth, I feel like I’ve touched paradise. Seriously, I don’t care how crazy that sounds. She is intoxicating. Her scent, her skin, her hair, her body, her smile, it is all driving me crazy.
