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1
Ashley
I stumbled to a halt, drenched from head to toe. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I shouted after the bus, as it continued on, never mind that it had thrown up a bucketload of London’s finest freezing dirty water all over me. Brushing the worst of it off my heavy winter coat, I scanned the streets. Pedestrians hurried past, heads down, not paying me any attention. Something caught my eye—a deep brown sign with white lettering, flapping in the wind. The Daily Grind. Perfect.
I hurried over, pushing open the door. The bell jingled merrily to announce my arrival, not that there was anyone there to see me enter, other than the teenage girl behind the wooden counter, who barely looked up from her phone.
Oh no, wait. There was a man sitting in the corner, his face and most of his body hidden by a newspaper. All I caught was a glimpse of his hands, and the top of his head. Expensive-looking watch, thick, chestnut brown hair that was impeccably styled, black suit, black loafers… Tearing my gaze away, I headed towards the counter, the music playing softly from the wall mounted speakers soothing me.
“Uh, could I have a coffee?”
“What kind?” The girl raised a brow at me, gesturing to the board behind her.
“A Pumpkin Spice latte, please. Large, or whatever it’s called. The biggest one you have.”
She sighed as if it was a huge inconvenience for her. “Fine. It’ll be a few minutes. Pay here, please.”
I tapped my bank card on the contactless reader. “No rush. I’m going to use the loos.” I gestured to myself, and she looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. Sympathy flickered in her eyes.
“What happened to you? You look like a drowned rat.”
“I stood too close to the road when a bus went past.” I shrugged. “I’ll dry. I hope.”
“There’s hand dryers in the loos. You can hang your coat on the radiator if you like.”
“Thanks.” I slipped off my coat and draped it over the aforementioned radiator, then examined myself. My coat had taken the brunt of the drenching—thankfully my skirt, silk cami and cardigan were all dry. My legs were wet, but that was a small problem in the grand scheme of things. I was grateful I’d worn my wavy blonde hair in a messy bun, at least that had been protected.
I headed over to the far corner of the coffee shop, my path taking me directly past the stranger with the newspaper. As I neared him, he lowered the paper, and our eyes met.
It was like being hit by lightning.
His steel grey eyes bored into me, daring me to look away. I drank in his features—all chiselled, sculpted male perfection. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he was quite possibly the sexiest man I’d ever encountered in the flesh. A slight smirk crossed his lips as he noticed the way I was ogling him, and my cheeks heated.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled, lowering my eyes and hurrying past him. Why was I having such an extreme reaction to this stranger? My legs were shaky, and my heart was racing.
Once I’d composed myself, I re-entered the coffee shop. The man had gone. It was silly, but my heart sank.
I headed over to the counter to collect my drink. “Do you know who that man was?”
The girl behind the counter shook her head. “He’s been in a couple of times, but no idea who he is, sorry.”
Shame.
I pushed all thoughts of the gorgeous stranger from my mind. It was unlikely I’d see him again—with a population of over nine million, London was a big city, so my odds were slim.
Slightly drier, I made my way to my office building, sipping my coffee, letting the spices warm me.
After an uneventful morning, I met with my colleagues Olivia and Eddie in the conference room, to plan our annual Christmas party. With most places in London not only charging exorbitant amounts, but being booked up well in advance, we were having the Christmas party in our office, as we always did, in fact. We’d arranged it for the Friday before Christmas, and it sounded like most of the other businesses in our building were following suit, so the whole place would be alive with Christmas cheer.
I couldn’t wait. Christmas was my favourite time of the year. There was something so magical about it. I had a tradition—every year I went to the huge Christmas tree in Trafalgar Square on Christmas Eve, and made a wish. Maybe I was too old to believe in magic, okay, no maybe about it; but if wishes could come true, Christmas was the one time of year when anything was possible.
“Ashley? Are you okay?” I blinked several times, returning to earth, seeing Olivia eyeing me with concern.
“I’m fine. I just zoned out for a moment. Sorry about that.” I smiled at them both. “So, Ethan’s really letting us plan this ourselves?”
Olivia nodded, a grin on her face. “Yep. To be honest, it sounds pretty simple.” She held up a hand, ticking off points on her slim fingers. “Catering, music, lights, oooh, and a Secret Santa exchange.”
“Ugh. I hope I don’t get stuck with Luke again this year.” Eddie rolled his eyes, then darted out of the way of Olivia, who attempted to slap his arm playfully.
“Don’t be rude; that’s my boyfriend you’re talking about.” She attempted an angry voice, but her eyes sparkled, and she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. “Tell you what, if you get him, you can swap with me, okay?”
“Deal,” he grinned.
