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I squeeze her hand. “I’m counting on it.”
When we reach the city, Kennedy lowers her window. “Do you hear that? Those are the sounds of London.”
I laugh. “It sounds like any large city to me.”
“No, listen.” When we stop at a red light, she lowers the window further, and we can hear the conversations drifting pass us as groups of people move along the pavement. “Hear those British accents, the cadence of the language.” Then she points at a corner business. “And pubs on every corner.”
She leans back in her seat and sighs. “I’m craving fish and chips. Shoot, I’ll even eat the mushy peas.”
I laugh. “You hate mushy peas.”
She turns to me. “I know, but I’m feeling nostalgic.”
Soon we arrive at my building. Bruce pulls up to the front entrance to let us out. I’ll take Kennedy in through the front lobby and up the lift to the penthouse floor. Bruce will park the Mercedes in the garage and bring our luggage up through the private service lift.
Kennedy glances around the lobby, with its marble floors and gold accents. “It’s just as impressive as I remember,” she says. And then I remember we visited this building several times back in the day, to see Will and Skye.
When we approach the front desk, the two security guards straighten.
“Welcome back, Mr. Murphy,” one of them says, his curious gaze flitting to Kennedy.
“Thank you, Thomas. Gentlemen, this is my fiancée, Kennedy Takahashi. She’ll be residing with me in my flat.”
After the introductions are complete, I direct Kennedy to the express lift that will take us to the top floor of the building. I whisper the four-digit access code into her ear. “That’s the lift code. Memorize it, or you’ll be locked out.”
She rolls her eyes. “Connor, that’s my birthday. I’m not likely to forget that.”
“Of course it is.” I lean over to kiss her cheek. “What else would I use?”
The lift takes us up to a small, yet well-appointed private lobby. “Here’s our place,” I say. She follows me to the door. Before we reach it, the door opens, and Sarah, my housekeeper, is there to greet us.
“Welcome home, sir,” Sarah says with a big smile. Her curious gaze moves to Kennedy. “And you must be the lovely Ms. Takahashi I’ve heard so much about. Welcome.”
“Thanks. I hope it wasn’t all bad,” Kennedy says.
“Not at all, miss.” Sarah gives her a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Please, call me Kennedy.”
“Yes, miss,” Sarah says, dipping her head in deference.
Sarah’s in her late fifties. Her light brown hair is twisted up into a bun of sorts. She has blue eyes, freckles, and a pretty smile. She’s also a fantastic cook. When it comes to managing a household, I’d be lost without her.
“Sarah and Bruce are married,” I explain to Kennedy. “They share the flat with me. They have their own private suite of rooms.”
While Bruce delivers our luggage to my suite, Sarah begins unpacking for us. I take Kennedy on a quick tour of the apartment, showing her the lounge, spacious gourmet kitchen, dining room, work-out room, home office, and home theatre. Last, but not least, we step outside onto the balcony that overlooks The Thames.
“Do you fancy a boat ride while we’re here?” I ask her as we stand at the railing and watch boats cruising up and down the river.
She glances down at the marina below us. “You have a boat?”
“I do. She’s built for speed. How about it? Shall we take her out on the river if we have time?”
“I’d love that. While I can’t promise I won’t get seasick, I’m game to try.”
“Don’t worry. Skye’s been sick on my boat twice now—over the edge each time, thank god. Of course she was pregnant, so I forgave her.” I laugh at the memory.
Good times.
