I See London 1 (17 page)

I gaped at her. She should have guys lining up around the block to date her. She deserved that and so much more..

“I think you deserve more than that. I wouldn’t sell yourself short.” I linked my arm through hers. “Are you ready to go home?” She nodded. “Next time you run off, though, will you just let us know? We were really worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. I know it was stupid. I was pissed and I wasn’t thinking.”

“It was stupid,” I agreed. “You scared the shit out of me and Mya.”

“Where is Mya?”

“She had to fly back. She has a test in her bio class tomorrow and she was afraid to miss it.”

“Is she pissed off with me?”

“Nah. She understands. We were just worried about you. All we wanted was to know you were safe.”

I opened the car door, motioning for her to slide in between me and Samir. Putting some space between us seemed like the best possible idea.

Samir hugged her as she slid into the car.

“Thanks for coming to get me.”

Samir visibly loosened, flashing Fleur his trademark grin. “Of course. It’s not often I get to play the hero. How could I avoid coming to the rescue of two gorgeous girls?”

I flushed.

Fleur elbowed Samir. “Stop making Maggie uncomfortable,” she chided.

I doubted she realized just how
uncomfortable
Samir had been making me earlier.

“I wouldn’t dream of getting Maggie all hot and bothered,” Samir replied, all innocence.

He winked at me.

* * *

The rest of the trip went smoothly despite my choice of companions. If I thought traveling with Fleur was luxurious, traveling with Samir was doubly so. The driver whisked us back to the Hotel Danieli, where a porter brought down the rest of our luggage. A few minutes later we were on our way to the airport. When we got there, Samir walked away to go talk to his dad’s pilot. My gaze focused on his retreating back.

“Is he always like this?” I asked, not taking my eyes off of him.

“Like what?”

I waved my hand. “This. All of it. The car, the plane. Taking care of everything.” I hated to admit I thought Samir was capable, but in this he impressed me. I also couldn’t ignore the fact that he was turning out to be a really good friend.

“Pretty much yeah. Samir tends to take charge. That’s probably why he’s so popular with the girls. He handles everything. They like the glitz of it all—getting to be on his arm while he shows them a good time.”

That was definitely a subject I didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole. I knew all too well just how Samir
handled things.

“Hmm.” I struggled to keep my face neutral.

Fleur hesitated for a second. “Listen. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but I’ve noticed the way he looks at you.”

I froze. “What are you talking about?” Suddenly my sweater sleeve became the most interesting thing in the world.

“Let’s just say that Samir has a tendency to look at you like he wants to eat you in one big bite.”

I reddened.

“It’s no big deal—he’s like that. I just don’t want to see you falling for his bullshit. I love him—I mean, he’s my cousin and all—but I’m not totally blind to his faults. And trust me, Samir has a lot of them. He hurts all the girls he’s with. Maybe not intentionally, but somehow he always does.” She paused as if choosing her words carefully. “He can be careless with people. I care about you, Maggie. I don’t want to see him be careless with you.”

I struggled to act like her words had no effect, like they didn’t make me feel like a bigger idiot than I already thought I was.

“Thanks, but I’m not interested in him or anything. He’s totally not my type.”

Maybe if I told myself that enough, I’d start to believe it.

“Good. I figured you had better taste. I just wanted to make sure. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Thanks. But you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going to be falling for Samir any time soon.”

I couldn’t.

“The plane’s ready.”

I whirled around at the sound of Samir’s voice. He stood behind me, holding three Starbucks coffees in a tray in his hand. The look in his eyes said it all.

He’d heard every word we said.

Chapter 23

We all came back from Italy slightly changed. Mya spent less time hanging around with me and Fleur and more time with her parents. Whenever I tried to broach the subject of her dad, she brushed me off and said everything was fine. I gave her space, knowing easily how often “fine” could fall apart at a moment’s notice. All I could do was be there for her when it did.

Samir avoided me like the plague. Every time our paths did cross, he was accompanied by a different girl. He didn’t spare me a glance. I told myself I couldn’t care less. What had happened between us in the car in Italy was a mistake. I spent the rest of the semester focusing more on my classes, going out less and less. I didn’t need any distractions.

Somehow I made it through exams, cramming in the library with my friends. Since our final exams made up most of our total class grade, finals were a big deal at the International School. Copious amounts of caffeine pills and late-night pizza runs became a staple around the dorms. I had five finals in total. By the end of the two-week exam period I was so relieved to be done I didn’t even bother obsessing over my grades.

I was officially burned out.

I had one day—and night—left in London before I flew home.

“Is everything set with your flight?” my grandmother asked during our weekly phone call.

“Yep. I get in at two in the afternoon.”

“We’ll be there to pick you up.”

I grinned. “I can’t wait to see you guys.”

“We can’t wait to see you, either, honey. We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” I hesitated. “Have you heard anything from Dad? Do you think he’ll be home a few days before Christmas?”

Silence filled the line.

“Grandma?”

“He said he was going to call you…”

My heart lurched. I already knew what she was going to say before the words left her mouth.

“He hasn’t.”

She sighed. “I’m so sorry, Maggie.”

I knew it.

“What is it this time? Another mission he just couldn’t refuse?” I didn’t bother to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Why doesn’t he just say what it really is? He doesn’t care about any of us and he doesn’t care about spending Christmas with us.”

With me.

“Maggie! You know that’s not true.”

Actually, I didn’t. I loved my grandparents and I knew they loved me. But my father was their only son. And we were never going to agree on this.

“I’m sorry. It’s fine. I have to go, though. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hung up the phone just as the tears began to fall.

* * *

I stared down at my phone screen. My finger hovered over the keys. I needed a distraction, something to get my mind off of my conversation with my grandmother. I wanted to forget, just for a little bit. I didn’t want to hurt anymore.

I stared at the cream-colored business card on my desk, lying next to my phone. My fingers traced the raised black ink.

Hugh Mitchell. Cobalt. Owner.

It was now or never.

The cafeteria consensus—Mya, Fleur, Samir and Michael—was three to one that I should call him. Samir, unsurprisingly, had been the lone dissenter. He had shaken his head when I asked the rest of the table what I should do about Hugh.

“You’ll regret it,” he told me, before turning his attention back to his current girl of the week.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I would regret it. But right now I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be good Maggie who always toed the line and never took any chances. I wanted to be someone else.

Fuck it all.

I set the business card down on my desk, picking up my cell phone. With shaky fingers I dialed his number, part of me hoping he would answer, another part hoping he wouldn’t.

He answered on the third ring.

“This is Hugh.”

I paused for a moment.

“Hello?”

Somehow I had forgotten how good his voice sounded. That crisp British accent made my toes curl. I sucked in a deep breath, my heart pounding madly in my chest. I should have written down a script or something.

“Hi, it’s Maggie.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. “How are you?”

I struggled to calm my raging nerves. “I’m good. I’ve been traveling a bit,” I babbled, realizing my best intentions were going awry.

“Where did you go?”

“Italy. Venice.”

“I love Venice. One of my favorite cities.”

I grinned, the knot of tension in my stomach loosening slightly. “Me, too. It was amazing.”

“Speaking of Italian, I know this great restaurant in Chelsea. Best pizza you can get in London. You interested?”

“Yes,” I squeaked. “I’m definitely interested.”

“Good. Why don’t I pick you up for dinner in an hour or so? You up for it?”

I heard myself saying yes even as I was studying my appearance in the mirror. I wasn’t wearing any makeup and my hair was a mess.

“I’ll be there.”

* * *

“Hold still.” Fleur held the curling iron over my hair. “I only have another ten minutes to finish your hair.”

I dabbed some lipstick on, struggling to contain all of the nervous energy running through my body. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Fleur grinned. “I know. So I take it you called him?”

“I did.”

“What made you decide to do it?”

“I just…needed a distraction. Or something. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Where is he taking you?” Noora asked.

“A restaurant in Chelsea.”

Fleur ran the curling iron through my hair, the motion releasing a silky brown spiral. “I think it was the right decision. If you hadn’t have called him, you just would have spent the rest of the year thinking about what might have been. Now you’ve taken the
what if
s out of things. And he’s definitely interested in you if he asked you out to dinner.” She grinned. “Now go out and get laid.”

I laughed. “We’ll see.”

Noora grinned. “I’m not sure I totally agree with Fleur’s advice, but you do look great.”

“Thanks.”

She came over and gave me a swift hug. “My flight leaves in a few hours. Have a good break.”

“You, too.”

She left the room, leaving me and Fleur getting ready. Fleur stared at my reflection in the mirror, our gazes locking. The desk and an old glass mirror created the perfect makeshift vanity.

“Take it from someone who knows—don’t leave anything to chance. You have a shot with this guy. Make your move tonight.”

Chapter 24

There was something magical about London nights, something in the air that whispered possibilities—and adventure on the horizon.

It was in the air tonight.

I wore one of my own outfits—a black wrap dress with a plunging neckline and short hemline that made up for the demure long sleeves. It had been a massive find at H&M, which was rapidly becoming one of my favorite stores. I paired the dress with a killer pair of black leather high-heeled boots and chunky Lucite jewelry. Thanks to Fleur’s hair magic, my long brown hair fell in wild curls around my face.

I could hardly recognize myself. Sometime during the last few months I had changed. For the most part I still looked the same. My hair was still brown, my hips still curvy, my boobs smaller than I would have liked. It was just the packaging that was different.

But no matter how much my clothes had changed, I still felt the same rush of nerves at the sight of Hugh’s Ferrari roaring up the street, the same feeling of disbelief.

Tonight was exactly what I needed. I needed to suspend reality, just for a moment. I wanted nothing to do with Maggie from South Carolina. Tonight I could be someone else.

The car came to a stop in front of the building. Hugh killed the engine and opened the car door, sliding gracefully out of the driver’s seat. His gaze settled on me. A low whistle of appreciation fell from his lips.

“Babe, you’re a knockout.”

I flushed with pleasure, thinking I could say the same about him. Tonight he wore an inky-purple velvet jacket, perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders. It was the kind of thing no self-respecting guy in South Carolina would have ever worn—but on Hugh it looked exactly right. His long legs were encased in dark denim jeans, a snowy-white collared dress shirt peeking out from the jacket. Expensive leather loafers completed the look.

“You ready?”

I nodded, crossing the distance between us and taking his outstretched hand, loving the feel of our fingers linked together. Just that little bit of bare skin against mine was enough to send a whole other level of anticipation through me.

I wanted him, and yet—

It was different from how I felt with Samir. I didn’t feel desperate; I didn’t feel out of control. It was a welcome change—

We rode through Kensington, the car engine the only sound between us, our hands linked. I told him about my trip while he talked about how busy he had been at the bar the past month. London passed by us, a flicker of lights and sounds I had begun to associate with the city. I tilted my head up, staring at the midnight sky, its expanse teeming with possibilities.

Hugh released my hand, maneuvering the Ferrari into a narrow parallel parking space.

I reached for the door handle.

“Wait.”

His voice—the sexy timbre of it—sent a wave of desire through me.

Hugh reached over, wrapping his hands in my hair, pulling my face toward his. He kissed me full on the mouth, his tongue licking into mine. His kisses were nothing like Samir’s. Whereas Samir’s kisses were urgent and frantic, Hugh kissed me softly, lazily. He kissed me as though this was just a prelude, and we had all the time in the world.

“Seeing you like that, in that dress, has been driving me crazy.” His fingers trailed down my neck, hovering over my collarbone, one reaching out to trace the sharp line. He trailed his fingers lower, leaving a path of goose bumps in his wake. His fingers hovered just above my cleavage.