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“How successful?”
“He and his college friends own Rosedale Technologies."
"Bloody Hell!"
"Someone has been stalking them, and there was a murder at their office a while back. And attempted kidnapping too... and other petty stuff."
"So, I'm guessing you are living out the mystery you’re writing about… with this Guy, guy!"
I giggled a little and tried not to nod off while telling the rest of my story. I did my best to convey the remaining details before my world went dark.
The following day, the sun was streaming through the window. I woke up to the smell of breakfast and found a plate of peach marmalade-covered toast and a pot of tea next to me. I groggily sat up, blinking in the bright light. The past few days' events hit me like a ton of bricks, and I let out a long sigh.
"I know it's a lot to take in," Marcie said as she set a plate of eggs and bacon on the tray beside the toast. "But you need to eat something."
Although I wasn't feeling famished, I knew she was right. I needed to eat. So, instead of listening to my growling stomach, I forced myself to scarf down some food. Afterward, I decided a long shower might help me relax and clear my headspace. But, as I stood under the stream of hot water, all it managed to do was remind me of Guy. His body, his fingers softly exploring me — and mine exploring him, as we showered together. Then my heart sank again as reality smacked me back upside the head.
Guy had not returned my text or called me.
I was in the middle of shampooing my hair when I paused. Guy being the last person to do so, I wondered if washing my hair would ever be the same. My mind began racing with reasons for his sudden lack of communication. He might be busy with work, although…I had a gut feeling it was something more. Maybe he regretted what happened and wanted some space.
After my shower, I decided to take Marcie up on her offer to go shopping. Maybe some retail therapy would help clear my head.
"Come on down, where you're ready," Marcie yelled up the stairs.
I pulled on my leggings and a sweatshirt. I wore the warmest thing I had brought with me and headed downstairs. I found Marcie in the kitchen, talking to her housekeeper, Clara. When I walked up, she shooed Clara away. "I'll see you tomorrow," Marcie told her, eyeing me up and down. "Lovie, those clothes won't do. It's almost Christmas, which means it's winter here in London." She grabbed my hand and led me to her room, where she pulled a faux fur coat and knee-high boots from her closet. "I think these will fit."
"Marcie, I can't wear your clothes."
"Yes, you can, and you will. Now, let's go. We have a lot of shopping to do!" She pulled out a Harrod's credit card and waved it in the air.
"I'll pay you back. I promise." I said, practically running to catch up with her.
"No worries. Come on, holiday sales start today."
I tried my best to keep up with Marcie as she weaved through the streets of London. We must have gone into every high-end store in a five-mile radius. I had never shopped like this before, and it was exhilarating...and exhausting. By the time we made it back to her place, I was ready to collapse.
"That was fun," I said, kicking off Marcie's boots and flopping down on the sofa.
Marcie laughed. "I can tell you're not used to all that walking."
"Not used to all that shopping either," I admitted.
"Well, you did quite well for your first time." She grabbed the remote and switched on the TV. "I'm going to go upstairs and change out of these clothes. I'll be down in a bit."
"Okay, I think I'm just going to relax here for a little while."
As soon as she was out of sight, I reached for my phone, hoping to see a text or missed call from Guy. But there was nothing. Not even a new voicemail. Disheartened, I put the phone back on the coffee table and laid my head against the back of the sofa, letting out a slow breath. Thankfully, it wasn't long before Marcie reappeared, wearing the pajama set she had bought at Harrods. "What are you watching?" she asked as she sat beside me and grabbed the remote.
"I'm not really sure." I had been so focused on my phone I hadn't even noticed what was playing on the TV.
"Looks like some American sitcom from the eighties." Marcie shook her head. "No wonder you're so confused."
We spent the rest of the evening binge-watching a British drama series Marcie was obsessed with. It was actually terrific and helped take my mind off of things. But eventually, sleep started to win out, and my eyelids became heavy.
"I think I'm going to turn in," I said, stifling a yawn.
"I'll walk you up," Marcie said, getting to her feet.
