I See London 1 (7 page)

I stood frozen, too surprised to move.

“See you around, Maggie.”

I stood on the steps, watching him walk away, hating the part of me that wished I were going with him.

Chapter 8

Walking into Cobalt I was struck by three things. First, as tacky as it sounded (and I only said it in my head), if Hugh really did own this place, he was loaded. Loaded in a very adult sort of way, in which I definitely didn’t fit. Two, I had no idea what I would even say to Hugh when I saw him. And finally, whatever else happened tonight, this “girls’ night” was something I never could have predicted.

I wouldn’t have gone as far to say Fleur was
nice.
She was less bitchy than expected, grudgingly accepting my presence because Mya wanted me there. I was just lucky Mya decided to take me under her wing. The fashion and makeup advice alone were life changing.

My long brown hair was the straightest it had ever been. They’d sprayed something in it that made it shinier than ever and my makeup was flawless. Clothing had been a bit of a challenge, since Mya was definitely a few inches taller. Luckily I was wearing something called a bandage dress that must have barely covered Mya’s mile-long legs, since even on me it felt ridiculously short. The color was a shocking red. Thanks to their help and the glass of wine they plied me with back in our room, I felt as good about myself as I ever would.

Samir’s reaction hadn’t hurt, either.

Fleur led us to a small table in the corner. She sat down first, crossing her legs. “Do you see him?”

I scanned the room. The decor was sleek and modern, the bar filled with well-dressed people, the majority of whom looked several years older than us. I shook my head.

“What’s his name?”

I hesitated, not sure I trusted her with anything. “Hugh.”

Slowly, whatever confidence the dress and wine inspired fizzled. If I looked my best, it didn’t really matter. There were at least twenty girls who looked better. There were exotic girls, girls dressed as if they’d stepped off a runway or from the pages of a fashion magazine. Girls with eye-popping jewelry and designer bags.

Mya leaned toward me. “Are you okay?”

I laughed shakily, the backflips in my stomach starting up again. “This was a stupid idea. He probably won’t remember me. Let’s just go somewhere else.”

Fleur frowned. “I’m not leaving,” she protested. “We just got here.”

“What’s up?” Mya asked. “You seemed excited on the way here.”

“I didn’t know what all the girls would look like on the way here.”

Fleur arched a brow. “It’s London.”

“I was talking to Mya,” I snapped.

Fleur shrugged, completely nonplussed by my angry face. “It’s London,” she repeated, her French accent creeping in. “There will always be girls. There will always be beautiful girls. You can either stay in and lament that fact, or you can go out and be one of the beautiful girls.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

Fleur ignored me, signaling to a waiter. “London is all about perception. Nothing else matters here. Some of the most beautiful girls in town won’t be able to make it on the club scene. Here pretty looks are meaningless. It’s what you make of your looks that counts. With the right attitude you can have any guy you want. You just have to play your cards right.” The waiter hovered near her side. “Now, what was the guy’s name?”

I gaped at her. It was strange to think she’d just given me something akin to advice. That I was inclined to take it was even stranger.

“Hugh. His name is Hugh,” I repeated.

Fleur turned to the waiter, a beaming smile on her face. “Is Hugh here?”

I had never seen her smile. She perpetually wore the same sulky expression on her face and it worked for her. She was so pretty she didn’t need to smile. But when she did? Her smile was dazzling.

The waiter nodded, clearly speechless.

“Excellent. Will you tell him Maggie from Babel is here to see him?”

The waiter scurried off to do her bidding.

My heart pounded madly in my chest. “We didn’t order drinks,” I protested, desperately needing liquid courage.

Mya grinned. “I don’t think we’re going to need to.”

* * *

The waiter came back with a bottle of champagne and three glasses. Fleur nodded her approval before turning her attention to a group of guys at the table opposite ours. My gaze darted back and forth around the room. I didn’t see any sign of Hugh.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have bothered him on a busy night.”

Fleur rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to keep complaining, I’m going to leave you and go sit with those guys. Stop freaking out. He sent over a very nice bottle of champagne. He’s interested. This is just all part of the game.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know how the game is played.”

Fleur sighed; a wonderfully Gallic shrug accompanied the noise. “Let me guess. You’ve never had a boyfriend?”

“I’ve been busy,” I shot back defensively. “Focusing on school. Getting into a good college.”
Trying to get into Harvard.
“I didn’t exactly have time for boys and parties.”

“What a little saint you are.” Fleur’s tone was mocking. “And yet you’re here. So a part of you doesn’t just want to stay at home doing homework on the weekends.”

She had a point.

“Okay, fine. What do you suggest?”

“Flirt. Make eye contact. If you get nervous, ask him questions about himself. Guys love talking about themselves. You can make a whole date go by, saying practically nothing at all.”

Mya nodded, taking a sip of her champagne. “She has a point.” She nudged me. “I think you’re about to get your chance.”

My hand tightened on the stem of the champagne glass.

Hugh walked toward us, looking even better than I remembered.

* * *

“Nicely done,” Fleur whispered under her breath.

I couldn’t help but agree. Tonight Hugh was dressed in a perfectly-tailored black suit, no tie and a cream dress shirt underneath.

“By the way, he thinks I’m doing a master’s,” I mumbled.

Fleur’s eyes widened. “Maybe I misjudged you. You’re learning already.”

I rose from my seat, my normal five-feet-four-inch height helped out by the pair of red heels Mya had lent me. He still towered over me.

Hugh smiled widely, his gaze roaming down my body. “Hi.” He reached out, gathering me close. Through the soft fabric of his shirt his muscular chest pressed against me, his strong arms embracing me. His lips brushed each of my cheeks in greeting before he pulled back. I stood there, my brown hair tumbling around my shoulders, my curvy body wrapped in Mya’s tight dress, a faint blush spreading across my cheeks as his gaze took me in.

“You look gorgeous.”

The gymnasts that had been working out in my stomach moved farther north. Something tumbled in the vicinity of my heart. When he said it, I believed him.

“Thanks.”

His gaze shifted from me to Mya and Fleur. I quickly made the introductions, bolstered by their presence. Both girls looked a lot older than they were, both stunning in their own right. For a moment I felt a twinge of worry. But somehow, miraculously, after the introductions were made and Hugh asked how everyone was enjoying themselves, he led me off to a table tucked in the back.

My hand in Hugh’s, our fingers linked together, I followed him through the bar. Occasionally he paused to shake hands with someone. He seemed to know
everyone.
It was as if he was the cool kid and for a day I was getting the chance to sit at his table. Except this wasn’t high school. This was London, one of the most glamorous cities in the world. And even though I knew this same scene was playing out in bars and clubs all over the city, all that mattered was that in this bar
I
was with the guy everyone wanted a piece of.

Somehow, as unlikely as it was, he had chosen me. For the night, at least.

I followed his lead, sitting down next to him at a comfy couch. Hugh moved closer to me, his suit-clad leg brushing up against my bare one. The movement sent a flash of heat through my body.

“Do you want a drink?” He waved over a waiter.

I nodded, leaning back as he ordered drinks for both of us. I had no idea what to talk about. Ask him about himself, Fleur had suggested. It couldn’t hurt to give it a shot.

“How long have you owned the club?” I leaned forward, closing the space between us. I wasn’t completely unaware of the fact that the move gave him an excellent shot of my cleavage.

Hugh’s gaze dipped for an instant before returning to my face. He grinned, taking hold of my hand once again, lacing my fingers with his. A thrill ran down my spine. His fingers stroked back and forth. I couldn’t help but wonder if what they said was true, big hands…

“About a year.”

I would never get tired of hearing that accent. I struggled to concentrate on the conversation. “What did you do before that?”

“Traveled, mostly.”

I grinned. “I’m jealous.”

When I was a kid I’d been obsessed with the idea of traveling. I’d had a globe in my room and I used to place pins in all the places my dad had been—the ones he could talk about at least.

Hugh’s fingers moved up my arm, tracing small circles on the inside of my wrist. “I spent some time in Asia and Europe. Backpacked around, mostly. I got bored with that after a while and I ended up coming back.” His fingers traveled farther up my arm. “Besides, my girlfriend wanted to settle down back home.”

I froze. Girlfriend?

Hugh smiled ruefully. “We broke up a year later. She wanted to get married. I didn’t. And then I opened the bar.”

I didn’t even know what to say to that. He’d almost been engaged? I hadn’t ever even had a boyfriend. “How old are you?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“Twenty-seven.”

Shit.
Eight years.

“How about you?” His voice was low, a strand of my hair wrapped around his finger.

I couldn’t tell him I was nineteen. “I’m twenty-three,” I lied, the number appearing out of thin air.

“You’re a baby.”

He had no idea.

“I’m not that innocent,” I teased, the words slipping out, adding to the weight of my lies.

Hugh’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face. His fingers traveled higher, stroking the sensitive hollow of my neck. “Oh, really?” His lips whispered over my ear, moving up to press a swift kiss against my temple. “I’m beginning to wish I didn’t have to work tonight. I’m tempted to test that statement.”

His lips brushed against mine.

Holy shit.

“That is a shame.” The words tumbled out of my mouth with the same seductive tone I’d slipped into since we sat down at the table. It was like someone had taken over my brain. “I’m tempted to let you.”

I was flirting. I was actually flirting.

All these years Jo told me it would be easy if I could just let go a bit. She was right. Now that I’d let go, I didn’t want to go back to the old Maggie. I liked this version—liked the flutter in my chest when Hugh looked at me like he wanted me.

He grinned at me. “I’m really glad I met you, Maggie.”

My own smile echoed his. “Me, too.”

Hugh glanced down at his watch. “I have to get back to work. You around later?”

I thought about saying yes. Part of me wanted to. I liked the way I felt around him—shinier, more glamorous, simply more. But somehow Fleur’s voice appeared in my head.
Play hard to get. Make him work for it.
“Sorry, I have plans.”

Hugh nodded, the gorgeous grin still on his face. “I’m glad you stopped by.” His lips wandered downward, grazing the corner of my mouth. “See you around, Maggie. I can’t wait for next time.”

Chapter 9

“What the hell happened? He didn’t even ask for my number.”

Mya leaned back in her chair, an oversize pair of sunglasses covering her eyes, a coffee cup clutched in one hand. Last night after we left Cobalt, we’d made plans to meet at our neighborhood Starbucks for coffee. I hadn’t bothered inviting Fleur.

“Dating in London is challenging.”

“It’s not like it was even a date. I sat with him for like a nanosecond.”

“He looked interested.”

I pulled off an end of my croissant, stuffing it in my mouth. “I guess. The whole thing was just confusing.”

“That’s London.”

“He’s twenty-seven.”

“That’s a little old.”

“It’s eight years.” I sighed. “Well, as far as he thinks, I’m twenty-three. So it’s only four.” I groaned. “You’re the expert. Help me. What do I do next?”

Mya drew off her sunglasses, setting them carefully on the small Starbucks table. “He’s playing the game.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of a problem, then, considering I don’t know the rules.”

Mya leaned back, studying me. “I’m surprised you didn’t have a boyfriend in the U.S. You’re cute. What was wrong with those American boys?”

I laughed. “I’m not great with guys.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just get uncomfortable. Like in high school, there was this guy I liked. He was really popular, captain of the soccer team, really hot. We had like five classes together and I still couldn’t manage to talk to him. Finally senior year came around and our chem teacher assigned us as lab partners. I spent the whole time planning out exactly what I was going to say to him. There may have been note cards involved.” Mya snorted. “One day I got so nervous I knocked over one of our experiments.”

Her eyes widened.

“Oh, yeah. I started a fire. So for the rest of senior year, he knew me as the girl who started the fire in our chem class.”

Mya cracked up.

“It was bad.”

“You seem to at least be doing better here. No chemical fires.”

I threw my napkin at her. “Laugh all you want. It sucks being this inept with guys. I do want a boyfriend. I just have no idea how to actually get one.”

“I can only help you so much. I haven’t dated a ton, either. We need to call in the big guns. You need Fleur.”

I grimaced. “Trust me, that’s the last thing I need.” I hesitated. “What’s the deal with you and Fleur? Why’d she come out last night?”