The Accidental Assassin (2 page)

I shuddered as I passed the hallway that led to the building’s parking garage. I had tried to drive Danny’s car my second day here and had hated every second of it. Everything was backward. The steering column was on the wrong side. I had to drive on the wrong side of the road. Combine that with all of the roundabouts and new-city-confusion, and it spelled disaster. I’d made it to the airport to pick up the luggage that had been delayed, but when I got back, I drank half a bottle of wine to calm my nerves. I’d never thought I’d have such a hard time doing something different. Then again, I did prefer to stick to my routine.

Which is exactly why I was here in London, trying to shake things up. After my college graduation, I’d found myself in a rut. My degree seemed useless and I still hadn’t left the aircraft builder’s office where I’d been working during school. I still drove the same car, used the same shampoo, and did everything the exact same as I had when I first left for college. And then Danny proposed to Tess. And Tess, one of my rocks, said yes. Before I knew it, I was helping her pick out dresses and look at flats—ha! I got it right that time—online. As I watched her move forward, I realized that I was going nowhere. The more I delved into my life, the more static it started to seem. I even realized that the men I had dated over the years had all been the same. Boring, predictable, and even more lackluster in bed. In my mind I had thought that meant stable, but it really just meant…mind-numbing.

Coffee smells wafted from the little café at the corner of the street and I smiled. So far, I’d tried eight new drinks. Rachel, the barista, always brightened when I came in. She said that most people ordered the same thing every time, but that I was always a surprise.

“There she is! How are you, Ava?” Rachel leaned a hip against the counter. Her bright dreadlocks swayed around her head and her nose piercing shined brightly.

“Good, you?” I stepped around a mother wiping up her daughter’s spilt juice.

“Excellent. What are you going to try today?”

“I’m not sure.” I looked up at the board above her head. “Why don’t you surprise me?”

“Really?” She stood up straight. “Anything you don’t want?”

I almost said tea, but bit my tongue. “Nope. You make it, I’ll try it.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love it when you come in here?” she asked. “And not just because of your cute American accent.” She rubbed her hands together. “I get to experiment on you.”

“I prefer to think of it as expressing your creativity.”

“Same thing, isn’t it?” She moved over to her machines and started mixing things in a cup. I watched and tried to pick out the ingredients. When she brought it over to me, she watched expectantly, so I took a test sip.

“Caramel.” I took another sip. “Pumpkin?”

“Got it. Better than the raspberry?”

“Definitely.” The raspberry coffee had made me want to gag. Fruit and coffee was apparently not my thing. I handed her some money and waved for her to keep the change. Rachel was one of the few people that I had met the past week who had become familiar. Mostly because she was a sucker for my accent. Which was funny, because I was a sucker for hers.

The first couple of days I’d sat at the same table when I came in, but when I realized I was falling into yet another safe routine, I’d started picking random spots. The chair closest to one of the open windows called my name, so I decided it would do for the day. My eyes drifted over to the seat I’d used yesterday and froze. A man in a suit sat in the corner, his arm draped over the back of the chair, a paper in his hand. Sharp cheek bones, combined with a light sprinkling of stubble and piercing green eyes, combined for a heavy shot of lust.

As if sensing my scrutiny, he looked up and met my gaze. There was a quick zing that zipped through my body as our regard held. I jerked my eyes away guiltily before chastising myself. It was an instant reaction to being caught ogling, but I should have just smiled and looked down. I couldn’t bring myself to look back over at him, so I focused on pulling my laptop out and connecting to the internet. I didn’t realize he had left the café until I saw him walk past my window. He smiled at me when I looked up, but didn’t say anything. I watched his back with interest as he headed down the street. It was a rather nice backside and it had been a while since I’d enjoyed a good romp in bed. I was a bit surprised by the immediate attraction though. All of the men I’d dated in the past had been a bit callous, rough around the edges, but this one had been very nicely put together.

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer.” Rachel sat a new cup down on the table.

“What?” I looked up at her, confused.

“The hottie got this for you. Said to get you another cup of whatever had made you smile.” She grinned broadly at me.

“Hottie?”I looked at the cup and felt my cheeks grow hot. He had definitely noticed me staring.

“I saw you checking him out. Not that I blame you. Those eyes were to die for.” She cocked her head to the side. “Had a dangerous feel to him, too. Rugged, but not in a mountain man sort of way.”

“Caught.” I held up my hands in defeat. “Sexy. He was sexy.”

“And he knew it.”

“They usually do.” I shook my head and looked at the cup.

“Don’t worry. I made it, so it’s not drugged or anything.” Rachel laughed.

“Good to know.” I looked back out the window but didn’t see him anymore. “That was nice of him. Who is he?”

“Dunna know.” She shrugged. “Never been in before, but I hope he comes back.” She raised an eyebrow and I laughed.

“He certainly doesn’t hurt the décor.”

“You can say that again.” She went back to her counter in a swish of bright skirts, leaving me to think about the mystery man.

After an hour and several emails about job openings, I decided to head out and see more of the city. I was used to being by myself. Tess was the closest thing I had to family, so it wasn’t unusual for me to visit places without anyone. I’d learned at an early age that doing things alone could be liberating. I didn’t have to worry about what other people wanted to eat, or bathroom breaks, but there were times I wished I could share something with someone—have that connection. There was an American family with a daughter in line to see Buckingham Palace that made me laugh. She kept asking if there were any princesses at the castle and I knew that her parents would always remember her excitement.

“I heard that America’s Duchess was going to be here.” I smiled down at the girl. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and see her and her prince charming too!”

The little girl squealed loudly before slapping both hands over her mouth. She danced in spot for a moment, trying to contain her excitement.

“That’s right.” The mother smiled down at her daughter. “They’re in town for the christening of the baby prince!”

“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh!” The girl bounced up and down on her toes. “I can’t believe it! A real princess and prince!”

Her parents laughed, soaking up her excitement as it spilled out. I did too. There was something contagious about watching a child faced with a dream come true.

I wonder what moments my parents had shared with me that I could no longer remember. They had died when I was twelve, and at twenty-three, some of my memories were becoming fuzzy. Maybe that was because I had no one to remind me of them, or maybe it was simply a side effect of growing older. I’d lived with my grandmother until I went to college. She passed away a year later, leaving me completely alone. Maybe all of that upheaval was the reason I’d stuck so closely to a routine in the past—a need for normality.

The palace was huge, breathtaking, and everything I had hoped. The queen wasn’t in residence, but would be back soon for the christening of her new grandbaby. I could imagine her dressed in one of her elegant gowns and talking with dignitaries. In fact, the christening is why there was a story about the Lilarian royalty in the paper. In between sending my resume to different employers, I had finished the article about the visiting prince and soon-to-be princess. Like most of America, I had been enthralled by America’s Duchess, but I also felt a bit bad for her. Not too bad, considering her hunky fiancé, but bad for all of the upheaval in her life. This was ironic, when you considered that I was working hard to cause disruption in my own life. At least I didn’t have cameras following me through mine, though.

I spent a good while in the palace, looking at the art work and peeking down hallways. I was amazed by the artifacts—by the history itself. Many important historical figures had graced these halls. Outside I snapped pictures of the guards in their red suits and big black hats. I strolled aimlessly for a while, taking pictures and soaking up the culture. We might speak the same language, but there were a lot of differences between Americans and the British. There were a lot of similarities of course, more than the differences, but it was tiny things that reminded me I was somewhere new. I walked through a shop and perused a shelf of tea. I’d tried two other brands so far, but would keep working to see if I found one I liked. I picked up a box with a smiling, grey haired woman on the front, and took it to the counter.

Just like everywhere, the clerk wasn’t exactly excited about her job, but I didn’t care. I took my tea and made my way back to Tess and Danny’s apartment. Flat. Not apartment.

I smiled at the doorman as he opened the door for me. “How are you?”

“Very well, madam. Thank you. I hope you’ve had a nice day as well.” He offered a disinterested smile.

“I have. Thank you.” I tried to not sigh.

I took the elevator, thinking I’d walked enough for the day. Leaning against the rail inside, I thought about maybe hitting up a pub the next day. I was trying to do different things, but going to a pub by myself was intimidating. I knew they weren’t like the bars back home, but it was hard to push that image out of my head. When the elevator dinged, I stepped forward without looking and ran smack into the chest of someone tall.

“Bugger!” I bounced backward, but congratulated myself for using the right word. “I’m so sorry.” I looked up into bright green eyes and froze. Even though I’d only seen him briefly, I wasn’t likely to forget his face. There was something so arresting about his presence that I was sure I’d have remembered him a year later. He was attractive, refined without being pretty, and the hint of steel in his jaw implied danger. His nose had a slight hump in the middle that made it seem off center. Full, firm lips pulled to one side in a small smile and of course, there were the gorgeous eyes bound to make most women weak in knees.

“Never a problem when bumping into a lovely woman.” He smiled down at me and I froze. Was he? Yes. He was flirting with me. Did he remember that I was the lady at the coffee shop or did he give out so many drinks that I was just a blurry face? I wasn’t bad to look at it, but I was a far cry from the type of woman that would be on his arm.

“Um. Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” He reached out with a hand to motion for me to step by him. “Is this your floor?”

“What floor is it?” I sounded like a dumbass. A complete dumbass.

“Fifth.” His mouth twitched.

“Ah, yes. It is.” He didn’t say anything, just watched me. “My floor, I mean. It’s my floor.”

“Here, let me get out of your way.” He stepped aside and I realized that he was being polite while I had been staring again.

“Thank you.” Taking a breath, I stepped out of the elevator and was going to head to the flat, but found myself turning around to ask if he lived in the building.

“I hope you enjoyed your drink at the café.” He held the door open with his hand while his eyes traveled over me in a lazy perusal. I fought the urge to look down and check what I was wearing. I was pretty sure it wasn’t anything that should garner that much attention.

“I-I did.” I cleared my throat and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Ah, there it is.” He stepped back, letting go of the door, and pressed a button. “You have a lovely smile.”

“Thank you.” I felt my lips curve upward even more just as the doors closed. I walked back to the flat, a little pep to my step. Even if I never saw him again, the compliment was a nice one.