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I look at him dubiously and pull my phone out to glance at the time. I do this to make the point that it is way too late for dinner. But my phone is still dead. I curse under my breath and turn my eyes back to his. That look, the one that says we are sharing a joke—one I’m not privy to—is back. And I know it’s time for me to go.
I square my shoulders “Well, then I don’t want to keep you and have it grow cold. Thanks again for catching me, Simon.”
I flash what I hope is a civil, but not overly friendly, smile. “Have a nice night.”
His hand comes back up to catch my forearm this time, stopping me from turning around. The warmth that floods my arm, makes me gasp. I step out of his grasp, but stay facing him. I keep a mask of indifference on my face and raise my eyebrows in a silent prompt for him to start talking. He complies, his smile knowing and infuriating. It sets a thousand butterflies loose in my stomach.
“Where are you going this time of night? There isn’t anything open this way. Well, except for that rave Subterranea.” He tips his head in the direction of the road I was about to cross. His eyes, though don’t leave my face.
But, at the mention of the rave, a light bulb goes off. “Yes! That’s it. That’s where my friend and I are going.”
He glances around and chuckles. “Your friend?”
I sigh and tell him that I am meeting Cara. I also explain my phone dilemma.
Without waiting for me to finish, he reaches into the pocket of his jeans. Dark formfitting jeans which encase his long legs.
“Here, use mine.” He holds the phone out to me.
I thank him, but before I can reach for his phone I realize, with a jolt that it’s useless.
“Shit. I don’t know her number.”
He doesn’t miss a beat before responding.
“I’ll call Louis and get it.”
He dials Louis, but doesn’t get a response. He leaves a message and sends a text. But it’s past midnight on a Thursday and chances are slim Louis will see it before morning.
He looks at me for a minute, not saying anything, but assessing me from head to toe. His gaze, as it moves over me, is like a wave of heat and I feel a trickle of sweat make its way down my back. It is August, but it’s not an overly warm night. My rising body temperature has nothing to do with the weather.
He nods his head in the direction of the club and says, “I’ll walk you down, see if Cara is waiting there.”
I shake my head quickly, declining. “No, thank you, you were very kind to stop, but I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“It’s late, the road is poorly lit. I’m not leaving you to walk that way by yourself.” His voice loses all of its humor. His eyes lose their sparkle and I can tell that arguing with him would be futile.
Without waiting for a response, he grabs my elbow and steers me in the direction on Portobello Road. His touch, firm and yet gentle, feels like the full heat of the sun on my skin. I am too focused on the heat radiating up my arm to think about refusing to comply.
At night, with all of the market stalls gone, the world famous Portobello Road is unremarkable. Dark, dank, and poorly paved, it’s hard to believe that it is home to a lively, colorful marketplace every Saturday and Sunday.
The first minute of our walk is silent. My mouth is dry; my mind is completely blank. I can’t think of a single thing to say. Simon, on the other hand, seems completely unfazed by this encounter. He starts to make small talk.
“So, Addie, what brings you to London?”
Relieved, for a break in the silence, I start talking.
“I got a job. With a law firm. I’m a lawyer. Here in London. I’ve been here for almost a year. So, I’m here.” I sound stupid. But this man with his ridiculous face and body has me feeling like my brain is melting.
If he notices, he doesn’t do anything to indicate he does. In fact, he doesn’t say anything. He just listens. So I continue. “I went to law school in Cambridge. --that’s in Massachusetts, not the Cambridge here—but, I?
??ve always wanted to live here, so I’m happy it worked out with the job… and everything. It’s also great because Cara is here.” I am rambling now, and I don’t know why.
“Ah, yes. You were with her the day we met. You said I looked familiar.” He says, and I glance up at his profile. I can see he is smiling.
“Well, yes, I just can’t place you.” I say curtly, determined to maintain my initial story.
“Addie, I know we have never met before.” He says in a tone that is both amused and sure.
