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Oliver
FROM: [email protected]
Subject: RE:RE: Move In
July 9, 2020 9:59 PM GMT
Oliver,
I’ll textyou when I land so you have my number too. Can’t wait to get there!
See you soon,
Avery
TWO
Avery
I waitat the baggage claim for the last of my four bags to arrive. My tired eyes are trained on the conveyor belt as I scan the luggage, looking for my black bag with the neon pink tag. I’m tired from the long flight, and my excitement at finally being in England, a city loved by so many literary giants, can’t perk me up. I want to get my luggage and get to the apartment. Sorry, flat. I’m trying to use the lingo while I’m over here. I don’t want to stand out.
I’ve already got my other bags loaded on a cart, and I rub my eyes, sighing as I finally see the last one headed my way. I step forward and heft the heavy bag, tossing it onto the cart next to the others before I groan and start to push it out to the line of taxis. I exchanged money while I was at customs and got my cell phone set up to work over here, so I pull it out after I’ve got my stuff loaded in the trunk. I bring up Oliver’s number and bite my lips as I type out a short message.
Avery:Just landed! Headed to the flat now.
Oliver: I’m still at work, but I should be home in a few hours. Sorry I couldn’t pick you up.
Avery: No worries! See you soon.
I hit send beforeI tuck my phone into my pocket and stare out the window at the scenery passing by. I don’t want to miss a moment of this, even though I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.
We head out of the airport pick up, and I press my nose to the glass, getting my first look at London. It’s as amazing as I hoped it would be. We get stuck in traffic, and I crane my neck, taking in all the sights.
What will my new flat look like in person? And what will my new roommate be like?
My mind keeps slipping back to the emails Oliver and I have exchanged over the last couple of weeks.
At first, it was about the flat and when I would get there, but then he emailed one day about some local sights I could go see on foot and others we could drive to in his car. He asked if I wanted him to pick up anything for me so it would be here when I got to the flat and if I was shipping packages.
He seems so nice, and while I know he might not be around much with him traveling for work, it will be nice to have a friend here. Knowing I’ll be living with someone I like has made this transition easier. I can already picture us hanging out in cafes together or giggling as we window shop.
Maybe it’s all of those romantic British novels I love to read, but he reminds me of Mr. Darcy, which would make me Elizabeth Bennet. If this was a romance book, that is. He seems a little gruff in his emails, although he’s always come across as kind. I shake off the thoughts of the two of us falling in love while I’m studying at Oxford and traipsing all over England.
The taxi pulls up outside of an apartment complex and the building is more impressive than I expected. I’m pleased to see a doorman come out to help me with my bags. Oliver said he was a consultant, but I didn’t realize the salary that comes with a job like that. I looked up what a management consultant does, and the internet search said they streamline processes and help with hiring or staffing departments.
I’m about to pay the driver when the doorman stops me. “Ms. Amor?”
“Yes,” I say, nervous there’s a problem.
Did Oliver change his mind? Do I have the wrong address?
I watch as he takes an envelope out of his pocket and passes it to the taxi driver. “Mr. Kline wanted to pay for your lift.”
I’m momentarily distracted by his charming accent, so it takes me a minute to catch up to what he said. “Oh! How sweet of him.”
The doorman nods as he comes to help me carry in my bags. “Yes, Mr. Kline is a very respectable man,” he says with a slight nod of his head.
