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Still, after finishing my cup and not having yet seen any sign of her, I’m getting a little impatient. I check my watch, she should have been here by now. Maybe there’s a chance that I missed her? She might have come by while I was ordering at the bar, or while I looked down at my phone for a second, or even come from the other direction and never passed by these windows at all.
I get up, leaving my finished cup on the table, and walk back into the reception. The same woman is still on duty, so I repeat my request, waiting for her to make the call.
This time, it connects.
She puts the phone down and smiles at me, all insincerity and honey. “She’s on her way down to see you now, sir.”
Chapter Three
Gabby
I exit the elevator with my heart in my throat, wondering what I’m about to see. Part of me is already fired up to give my dad a piece of my mind. He said he trusted me to come here on my own. He promised. If this is him, I…
I look around the lobby as the doors of the elevator open to let me out, frowning. I don’t see any sign of my dad anywhere. There’s only one man standing at the reception, and for the moment he has his back to me. He’s wearing a black suit with his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and I don’t think that anyone would be waiting for me dressed like that.
But then he turns, right as I’m stepping forward, and I see who it is.
“Oz?” I say, completely floored.
I never expected this – not in a million years.
Oz looks back at me, and for a second, I see complete confusion on his face as well. Which is weird, because… isn’t he the one who called me down here?
As the surprise wears off a little, I find it getting replaced immediately by something else. I don’t know what to call it. Embarrassment? Awkwardness? Whatever it is, I feel totally flustered, and it’s not exactly a mystery why.
Oz is the whole reason I wanted to come to London, even though I would never admit it out loud to anyone else. He’s been my dad’s best friend for as long as I can remember, even though they don’t see each other often. They do talk on the phone all the time. I haven’t seen him for a couple of years, but it’s not as though he’s changed much in all of that time.
No, he’s still the same drop-dead-gorgeous Oz that I remember.
“Gabriella,” he says. “Your dad told me you were coming to London. I thought I’d better form a welcome party, such as I am!”
I smile at that, stepping forward. Oz moves slightly to the side, and I follow his lead towards a more comfortable area away from the lobby. There’s a seating area near a bar, and he slips into one of the booths by the window, indicating for me to join him.
I know it was stupid, wanting to come here just because this is where he’s from. But he’s truly the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. The crush I have on him has been a constant all my life – and it’s been so frustrating, too, because I’ve always known he just sees me as a kid. Hell, until now, every time we’ve met, I was a little kid. But now…
Now I’m a little older. I’m eighteen. An adult. I wonder if that counts for anything.
Ha, no, of course, it doesn’t. I’ll always be a kid to him. It’s just nice to dream.
“You didn’t have to make this much effort,” I say, remembering my manners. “It’s really kind of you.”
“Well, I just wanted to make sure you got here alright,” Oz says. He’s wearing a white shirt and a black tie, so slick and professional-looking. I have no doubt that the suit probably cost more than my beat-up old car back home. He looks good enough to eat.
Which, whoops, is not a thought I should be having, because now my cheeks are what I’m pretty sure is bright pink.
“I got here just fine,” I say. “I just checked in a short while ago. You’re right on time.”
Oz gives a slight chuckle, and even though I don’t get the joke, I’m too distracted to ask. It’s hard to focus on anything when he’s looking right at me with those dark intense eyes, his black hair expertly combed just so above his brow. He looks so good – amazing for his age, even. It’s incredible to think that he’s only slightly younger than my dad, and…
My dad looks like an old man. He always has, to me. But Oz? He looks like a rock star.
Or maybe an actor would be more appropriate – especially in what he’s wearing now. He could be the next James Bond.
