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“I can’t believe we’re here. My mum and dad couldn’t even imagine.” Lee is in total awe as he absorbs the extravagance of it all. “Celeste may never speak to me again.”
“Sorry.”
He winks at me. “Worth it.”
On my first walk to campus after arriving in London, a man on the street handed me a brochure about tours of Kensington. Now I’m here, on the other side of the velvet ropes, spying Elton John in the crowd. I can’t help thinking my dad would already have attracted an audience if he were here. A guitar materializing out of thin air as they begged him for a song. Not because he’s famous—he just has that energy. Every room coalesces, shrinks around Gunner Bly. Magnetism.
Me, I feel myself shrinking. Retreating into this costume, blending into the scenery. Unaware how I got here and certain I don’t belong.
Then Lee jabs his elbow into my arm. “That one there? Parked her Rolls-Royce through the front door of a sweets shop last year.”He gives a surreptitious nod over his shoulder. “That bloke?” He directs my attention across the room. “He’s a descendent of Napoleon and was briefly the governor of a small town in Sweden until they found out he’d been importing horse meat and passing it off as elk in a kickback scheme.”
“Abbey?” Benjamin Tulley manages to sneak up on us, dressed to the nines in a tailored tux. Charming as ever, he takes my hand, brings it to his lips, and leaves a polite kiss atop my knuckles. “That dress is stunning, if I may.”
“Yeah, you know…” I swing the skirt around a little because how often will I get the chance to sashay in my life? “Just something I had lying around.”
“I’ve no doubt.” Ben lingers on me with the same cheeky grin I first saw at our lunch that disarmed me so thoroughly. Then his gaze flicks to Lee. “Ben,” he says, introducing himself.
“Lee. Thanks for the invite, mate.”
“Yes, you’re quite welcome.” Ben’s inflection is somewhat terse. His posture stiffens. “Pleased to meet a friend of Abbey’s.”
He doesn’t sound so pleased. That English stiff upper lip is so rigid it might crack right off his face.
“Tell us, yeah? That lad there.” Lee homes in on a skinny blond guy who resembles a young David Beckham. “Is that really Colin Hartness?”
Ben looks over. “The Olympic boxer? Yes, I believe it is. He’s a good friend of Prince John’s from the army.”
“Right.” Lee straightens his jacket, then leans in to kiss my cheek. “Don’t wait for me, luv.”
He’s off without pause to slip himself into the conversation surrounding Hartness, leaving Ben and me in his dust.
“My roommate,” I explain. “I was threatened with bodily harm if I didn’t bring him. Now I’m wondering what I’ve set loose on this unsuspecting party.”
“Ah, I see. I was afraid I’d become the third wheel.”
Ben closes the gap between us as he accepts two glasses of champagne from a passing tray to hand one to me.
I hold back a laugh that Ben thought Lee and I were athing. “No, it’s not like that. Lee has greater ambitions. He plans to marry up. Tonight, if possible.”
At that, Ben’s wry smile returns. “I’m rooting for him.”
One sip of the champagne almost knocks me on my ass. It’s as if I’ve never tasted the stuff until now. Everything before it was swill. Swamp water. I’m only bathing in this from now on. Pouring it on my cereal. Boiling my pasta in it. Transfusing my blood with it. I finally understand the fascination with the stuff.
“Good?” Ben prompts.
“You people have been holding out on us. No wonder the French invented guillotines.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “A Yank isn’t inside the palace ten minutes before she’s plotting a violent revolution.”
“Start planning your escape routes,” I say with a smile.
“Before we lose our heads then, shall we have a dance?”
He extends his arm to me.
This is one of those moments. When you’re entirely present and aware of the memories you’re making. A moment you’ll never have a second chance at, so best to squeeze the most from it.
“Love to.”
