London Falling (17 page)

Now, she spent every waking moment working, doing homework, or going to class. And everyone was so young! Miles of responsibility and hard work separated Aimee from everyone else in her classes.

But this trip had taught her that it wasn’t right to have so few friends. If she’d put herself out there, made more friends, she might not have had to invite Rodney on this stupid trip, and she might have had someone to call to loan her the money for a ticket home.

Well, that was going to change once she got back to Seattle. She would email Paige. And there was Lucy, who was currently muttering to herself in the pantry. Even if she had to make and sell twice the number of cupcakes the remaining days of her trip, she would go to Lucy’s for New Year’s Eve, because friends were worth it.

Ugh, she sounded like a Hallmark Hall of Fame special. Besides, how many times had she said that to herself and done nothing about it? How many times had she logged onto Facebook and then logged off before creating an account? How many times had she planned to ask a classmate to a movie, only to drop the idea at the last second? She pressed her lips together. This time would be different.

As soon as Lucy left, Aimee moved all of the finished batches into the bedroom, where she had boxes ready to go. She was just finishing up the final batch when Simon walked in the kitchen. Cupcake ran over to greet him with a few jumps and a lick.

“Are those for me?” he asked, setting his briefcase on the floor by the counter.

“They’re not for Cupcake.” At the sound of his name, the puppy padded over to sit at her feet and stare at the floor in the hopes that some piece of food would fall to the ground. He’d spent most of the afternoon in that same position.

“Brilliant.” He clicked his tongue a few times and Cupcake trotted back to him. Simon got down on his knees and gave the puppy a big scratch on the rump. Cupcake practically rolled his eyes back in his head before falling to the floor, belly up in the air, and begging for a tummy rub.

“You’re way too easy, Cupcake,” she said. “You need to learn to hold back a little.”

“You’re just jealous that he likes me better than you,” he said, while he rubbed Cupcake’s belly. Cupcake’s tongue lolled outside his mouth. Simon smiled at Aimee.

Her nether regions tightened in response. She was jealous, all right, but she certainly wasn’t jealous of Simon.

“I’ve got beef stew, some fresh bread, and a salad for dinner. Why don’t I bring it to you in your study?” She had to get him out of her hair so she could head out and start selling.

“I’d rather eat down here with you.”

She got a warm feeling in her belly, but she couldn’t want that, could she? Besides, it would ruin her plans. “You’re sure you don’t have work to do?”

He looked at her strangely, so she revised her plan and served their dinner at the counter so he wouldn’t get suspicious.

During dinner, Simon kept up a running commentary about the Scottish Terriers on his parent’s estate. She found herself asking questions about his childhood, despite her best intentions to feed him and get out the door. She was at war with herself, wanting to hear more, but knowing she was on a time limit and damn it, every story he told was funnier than the last. She was actually starting to like him.

She gave herself a mental shake – she didn’t want to like him. She couldn’t like him.

He went over to the wine fridge, opened up a bottle of red, and poured himself a glass. “Like one?” She shook her head. At least that was one strike against him – he drank.

He ambled back to the counter. The stool made a tiny squeak as he adjusted his weight on it. He sipped his wine. Could he eat any slower? She needed to get outside before all the parents took their kids inside for the night. She caught her fingers tapping the counter and forced her hand to be still. He pushed his salad around the plate, set down his fork and knife. Asked about her place in Seattle. Sipped some wine so slowly that she almost wished he had a drinking problem so he would hurry up and finish the darn glass. By the time he switched topics to her classes at U-Dub, she almost screamed in frustration.

He glanced pointedly at her fingers, which were once again beating the counter to death. “Why are you so antsy? Do you have someplace you need to be?”

Chapter Eight

She stopped tapping the counter and stared in horror at her fingers.

“No. I just have a lot of energy from all the chocolate. From the cupcakes. I ate a few earlier.”

Even as she pictured all the kids at the playground heading home for the night, she forced herself to remain still for the rest of dinner and even managed to answer all of his questions about her classes and her three different jobs without stamping her feet in frustration. No one had been this interested in her life in ages. If ever. But finally–finally!–he finished his dinner and stood.

“That was fantastic. Thank you.” He walked over to the counter–No, not the cupcakes!–and selected two.

She gritted her teeth. Another two pounds down the drain, and she couldn’t say a word.

He came back over to the island and sat down with his cupcake.

Ergh. She had to get out of here before she reached her hands out and shoved the last cupcake in his face. Standing up, she stretched her arms up into the air and yawned. “Boy, I’m beat. It’s been a long day. Think I’ll turn in.”

He stared at her as though she had transformed into a mutant alien. “I thought you said you were wired from all of the caffeine in the chocolate.”

“I was. I’m just crashing now.” She yawned again and gestured toward the sink. “Just stack your stuff in the sink. I’ll get the dishes tomorrow.” She backed up a few steps. “’Night.”

He looked confused. And hurt. No, that wasn’t right. Why would he be hurt that she was going to bed?

“Thanks for listening to me blather on. I think I’ve been working too much. This was a nice break,” he said.

As she hurried down the hall to her cupcakes, she got the insane urge to turn around and tell him she was sorry. For what, she didn’t know.

There were no kids at the playground, which made sense given that it was almost nine o’clock in the middle of winter. It was cold, windy, and very dark.

The luggage cart with all of the cupcake boxes made a scraping sound across the pebbles as she dragged it behind her like a homeless woman.

What a bust. Tomorrow, she would have to get an earlier start when Simon was at work. One day down the drain, with no cash to show for it. How was she going to pay for the new cupcake ingredients? The cash from tonight’s efforts was supposed to fund tomorrow’s ingredients, and if she had to sell these cupcakes first, that meant she was going to be baking again when Simon came home. He was sure to catch on if he saw her baking cupcakes the second day in a row, especially since he’d only eaten two that night.

She just had to sell as many as she could tonight. But to who? Her entire plan hinged on enticing kids at the park. She had no plan B.

At least now she had time to go check out the youth hostels in the area, especially the one on Oxford Street that she and Rodney had talked about staying in. Simon didn’t need to know what she was up to. She’d only promised him that she would tell the cops if she figured out where Rodney was–and she’d already told them about this place. And finding Rodney was looking more and more like her only chance to get home in time for classes.

Besides, Rodney was harmless.

Her feet ached in her stiletto boots. If only the tennis shoes from Lucy had fit, she’d be able to walk a lot faster. As she hobbled the blocks to the hostel, she focused on formulating a plan B.

She turned down Oxford Street and halted in her tracks. There, standing right in front of her, were kids. Two of them. The boys, maybe five or six years old, chased each other while their moms conversed nearby.

She picked up the pace. When she was in front of the boys, she reached into the top box and pulled out a cupcake. They froze in their tracks, staring at the cupcake with wide eyes. “Hi kids. I’m selling cup-fairy cakes. They’re chocolate and really yummy. Do either of you want one?”

They both nodded. Score! This was going to work!

The taller boy spoke first. “How much?”

“Only one pound each.”

Both boys raced over to their mothers. The shorter boy pulled on his mom’s jacket, but she shooed him away. The taller one had more success by being a little more vocal. “Mummy, Mummy, can I have a pound? Can I? Can I have a pound? Mummy? I just need a pound?”

She sighed and turned to face him. “What do you need a pound for?”

“For a fairy cake. That lady is selling fairy cakes and they’re only a pound and they’re chocolate and can I have one please?”

The mom glanced at Aimee before turning to her son. “You don’t know what’s in that fairy cake. I’ll let you have some ice cream when we get home.”

“Can I have some ice cream too?” asked the second boy.

“Not tonight, sweetie,” the second mom said. “You didn’t finish your dinner, remember?”

The boy crossed his arms and stamped his feet. “But I want ice cream!”

His behavior escalated into a full-blown tantrum and both moms turned to glare at her.

Her shoulders slumped. Aimee returned the cupcake to the top box, secured the straps and turned to go.

Damn-it, she wasn’t thinking straight! She should have thought about the threat of taking poisoned candy–or in her case, cupcakes–from strangers. Although in Lucy’s Calvin Klein pants, she certainly didn’t think she looked like a child killer, but it was going to be impossible to convince parents to buy her unlicensed cupcakes for their beloved children.

She had to find Rodney, the bastard who started it all, and she picked up her pace until she arrived at the Oxford Street Youth Hostel which, after ten minutes of wandering around, she figured out was on Noel Street, just off Oxford. She hefted the cart of cupcakes and stomped up the stairs to the reception area where a girl with jet-black hair, a nose ring and multiple tattoos sat behind the desk.

“We’re booked for the night. Try Earls Court.”

“Actually, I’m trying to find a friend of mine. We got separated at a nightclub the other night and I’m trying to locate him.” She went on to describe Rodney to her.

“He’s not staying here.” The girl motioned to the open double doors behind her. “You can ask in the lounge, see if anyone’s seen him.”

“Thanks,” Aimee said, knowing this was going to be a lost cause. The cupcake cart made a loud racket on the wood floors as she rolled it over to the lounge where two guys sprawled on chairs watching a football game. A real football game, which meant they must be Americans.

“Hey,” she said. They both glanced up, but one of the guys returned his attention to the game. For once she wished she were a cute blonde with big boobs. “I’m looking for a friend of mine from Seattle.” She described Rodney to them, but they both shook their heads and returned their attention to the game.

She turned to the door, but stopped when she realized she could try to sell her cupcakes to them. Students were always looking for cheap food.

“Hey, either of you guys want to buy a chocolate cupcake?”

“Nah,” one guy said. The other guy didn’t even look away from the game, just shook his head.

Out on the street, the cart banged on the curb and almost tipped over, but she was able to right it before the cupcakes flipped over. She stopped to make sure the frosting hadn’t smashed against the cardboard box. Music and voices drifted out from a bar. She opened the box just as a few guys stumbled out of the bar to the sidewalk, so she moved her cart closer to the side of the building where they wouldn’t knock it over.

“Watch it!” she said.

“Hey, watcha got there?” One of the guys swayed over to her spot against the wall. She gripped the handle of her cart tighter. “Oh man. Fairy cakes.”

He peered into the box and sniffed. Aimee pulled the cart a few inches closer.

“I’d give up my first born for one ‘o those fairy cakes. Come on. Won’tcha gimme one of your fairy cakes? You know you want to.”

Was he for real? He nodded, trying to entice her to say yes. As she avoided his Guinness breath, her brain finally clicked into gear. This was it, the solution to her problem! “I won’t give you one, but I can sell you one.

Only a pound a piece.”

“You’re my queen,” he said. “And I love you.” He leaned over and gave her a nasty, beer-smelling hug, almost knocking her over in the process. She held her breath until he let go. After he pulled out his wallet, he plucked out a live pound note and handed it to her.

“How many do you want?” she asked.

He looked at her with bleary eyes, clearly not comprehending her question.

“You gave me five pounds. Do you want one cup-fairy cake, or more.”

He swung his arm around, motioning to his friends who were waiting in a big circle behind him. “More. More for my friends. This round’s on me!” His friends elbowed each other and a couple even laughed, but no one denied his request.

“Great! Wonderful. That’s awesome.” After she pocketed the five pound note, she handed the cupcakes to each person. “Thanks! Thank you.”

As the guys made a ruckus walking down the street, Aimee turned to face the bar exit. “Welcome to Plan B,” she whispered.

Simon paced back and forth in his study. His laptop sat open on his desk, and his papers lay abandoned on his desk. The puppy had long-ago given up and was now curled up underneath his chair.

Where in the bloody hell was she?

Did she think he wouldn’t realize she’d disappeared? When he’d gone down for a cup of tea, he heard the puppy whining and scratching against her bedroom door. Wondering why the dog was in such a high state of anxiety, he’d opened the door to Aimee’s room and discovered she wasn’t asleep as he’d expected. Or even in her room. He’d searched the entire house before he realized that she was gone, and he didn’t know if she were ever coming back.

She’d gone after that Rodney bloke. He was sure of it. And if she found him

She could be dead or on her way to Seattle without a word to Simon, neither of which made him feel any better. At least she owed him a goodbye.