Love in London (Restless Hearts) (7 page)

I had approached our day together with no expectations. We would spend some time together, have some fun, and that would be it. We would say good night and go our separate ways. But now that I had actually spent the day with him, I wanted more. And now I couldn’t have it.

Dexter insisted on calling a car to take me home. He needed to stop by his office before catching a flight out of town. We said goodbye at the curb, our earlier passion tempered.

“I’ll call you,” he promised before giving me a sweet kiss.

“I’ll answer,” I said.

It took a lot of effort to force myself into the backseat. Dexter gave me one last, long look before shutting the door. Something about the way it slammed shut felt painfully final.

The next morning, I was still thinking about our kiss and the way it had felt so natural to be in his arms. I was still thinking about Dexter when my bedroom door flew open and Cessy sailed into the room.

“Where have you been?” she exclaimed, flopping onto the bed next to me.

“Right here, sleeping.”

“Alone?”

“No, with my imaginary friend Hector.”

Cessy jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow. “You are not as funny as you think.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I sure hope you weren’t this insufferable on your date.” Cessy snatched the pillow from beneath my head and placed it against the headboard before sitting with her back against it. “Start at the beginning, and don’t forget the salacious details.”

The annoyance I felt was equal parts refreshing and familiar. Cessy reminded me a lot of Payton and right then, I missed my sister.

“I really like him, Cess,” I said, still mystified. “Even with every reason not to pursue a relationship with him, I still want it.”

“What reasons?”

“He’s a successful businessman and I’m just a student. He knocked up one of his employees. Strangers take pictures of us when we walk down the street.  He spends at least half of his time in London and I’ll be going back to America in a few months. He has to leave in the middle of our date because he’s an adult with adult responsibilities.”

Saying all of it out loud made me feel even more confused and defeated. Could we ever find a way to make it work?

“Oh! We should see if you’re famous.” Cessy retrieved her phone from her pocket and started searching.

“That wasn’t really the point of my tirade,” I said with a frown. “You’re supposed to be listening sympathetically and giving me encouraging advice.”

“That doesn’t really sound like me.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh my word.”

“What?”

From the look on her face, I assumed she had found something embarrassing- a photo at a bad angle, or perhaps someone had caught us going at it on the Eye. I grabbed the phone from her.

“This is just Dex,” I said, confused.

The photo was taken the previous day, based on his outfit. It was definitely taken at night, probably after our date. He was being let into the first floor of a flat by a pretty woman. The caption under the picture identified her as Laurel.

“Oh.”

He had said he was going to the office to pick up some important documents, then home to pack quickly before heading to the airport. He definitely hadn’t mentioned a stop by his baby mama’s place.

“To hell with him,” I said, tossing the phone on the bed.

“Bloody right.” Cessy sat up. “Forget the tosser. Put on some clothes and let’s get pissed down at the pub.”

“I’m not in the mood,” I said, feeling sorry for myself.

She grabbed me by the hand and tugged until I was up. “You will not let that arse ruin your time in London.”

Cessy had a point. I hadn’t come to London to fall in love. I’d come to learn more about my father’s family and to learn more about myself. I wasn’t going to waste one more minute of that precious time thinking about Dexter Sanders.

October 9

I keep forgetting that I’m supposed to be regaling my stories in this journal. A lot has happened since I last wrote a month ago. I know we’ve chatted on the phone a couple of times, but it’s not the same as the long talks we used to have at home.

You know how they say that when one part of your life starts to go right, everything else gets screwy? Well in the last few weeks, mine has just been completely screwy. After I found out about Dexter’s shenanigans, I decided to shift my focus from romance to family. Cessy’s parents were in town and insisted on taking us out for dinner. I had met my Aunt Penny and Uncle Hugh only once, and I barely remember the encounter. From the short description that Cessy gave, I knew that I had to accept their invitation. They didn’t disappoint.

Aunt Penny was loud, colorful, offensive, and just generally delightful. She swore in her heavy accent and embarrassed Cessy whenever possible. Her father was a classic English gentleman. He obliged his wife’s every whim, only occasionally interrupting the conversation with a dry quip. He reminded me a lot of my dad.

I gladly accepted when they invited me out to their home in Kinnerley. They are celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary in a few weeks and all of my extended family will be there. Not only will it be the perfect opportunity to meet everyone, it is also great to be able to look forward to something not at all related to the male species. When it comes to men, I’m a total idiot.

* * *

Two days after Dexter left, I was still determined to never speak with him again. Aunt Penny had further solidified my decision at dinner when she had shared tales of her own dating past that involved a man who impregnated three separate women at the same time. She had been fortunate not to be one of them. Two weeks later, she met my Uncle Hugh.

Dexter called the next day and I purposefully ignored it, feeling proud of myself. But three calls later, I began to waver. He left a message each time, first sounding cheery and fresh. But by the fourth message, he sounded confused and hurt. He had no idea why I was avoiding his calls and I wasn’t exactly in the mood to explain it to him.

But Dexter was a man that was used to getting what he wanted, and apparently what he wanted was me. By the end of the week, he had left over a dozen unanswered messages. Dexter was turning into another Neil. Except I wasn’t happy to get rid of Dexter.

Realizing that I needed a distraction, I happily accepted when some of my classmates invited me to have drinks at a pub down the street from our school. Cessy had been trying to convince me to attend a party with her, but the club scene wasn’t really my thing. A few pints in a laid back bar sounded much more appealing.

“You’re from Chicago?” my new friend Connor asked over our second round of beers.

“I am indeed.” My phone buzzed for the tenth time. Ever since I had told my cousin that I was bailing on her to drink at McAlpine’s, she had been texting me incessantly.

“Does your boyfriend live in Chicago, too?” he asked, not even trying to be subtle.

“No boyfriend,” I said with a frown. Just a week ago, I had been daydreaming about a future with Dexter by my side. Now I was getting drunk in an English pub with a group of people I barely knew.

Kelly, a girl with wild, red hair grinned widely at Connor. “I don’t have a boyfriend either. My ex was too much of a prude in the bedroom so I broke up with him.”

I covered a groan by taking a big gulp of beer.

“Wait.” The other guy at our table, Sam, pointed an accusatory finger at me. “Aren’t you the girl that was dating that rich guy?”

“Me?” I feigned innocence. “That seems like something I would remember doing.”

“Yep. You are definitely that girl.” Sam pulled out his phone and started typing furiously. “I almost applied for an internship at Scuttle a couple of days ago and I did some research on the CEO.”

He triumphantly held up his phone, showing us all a picture of Dex and myself walking down the streets of London.

“That’s you and Dexter Sanders. Don’t deny it.”

“Okay.” I tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Dex and I are just friends. He offered to show me around town last weekend.”

“You know Dexter Sanders?” Now Connor was even more interested in me. “How did you meet him? What kind of car does he drive? How insanely rich is he?”

I felt overwhelmingly uncomfortable. “We don’t exactly spend our time talking about his money.”

“Scuttle is one of the fastest growing companies in the world,” Sam informed us proudly. “He must be worth millions, if not billions. He’s basically my hero.”

“What’s he like?” Kelly asked, leaning forward to get the scoop. “He looks pretty hot. Is he hot? More importantly, is he single?”

“You’d have to ask him that,” I muttered.

“Maybe I will,” Kelly replied, her eyes growing large as she stared at something over my shoulder.

Even before I turned around, I knew that Dexter was standing behind me. It was like my body could sense his presence.

My anger at him started to fade the second my eyes landed on his adorable face. He looked even better than I remembered. The look on his face was a conflicted one- equal parts annoyed and triumphant.

When he walked across the room, people stared. He didn’t just enter a room, he owned it.

“You’re a tough woman to track down,” Dexter said by way of greeting.

“When did you get back into town?” It occurred to me that I should probably make introductions, but I couldn’t convince my brain to think clearly.

“Last night.” Dexter studied me as if he expected me to have grown a second head in the past week. “It’s a shame what happened to your phone.”

Kelly chose to introduce herself by interjecting. “What happened to your phone?”

“Nothing,” I snapped.

“Oh. So there must be some other reason why you haven’t returned my calls.” Dexter glared at me, but his lips hinted at a smile.

“You are so busted,” Kelly sang.

“I’ve been busy,” I said lamely. “Did you need something?”

Dexter leaned past me and picked up my beer. “Let’s talk in private.”

I had no choice but to follow him to the corner of the bar. He handed me the beer and ordered one for himself.

“What’s going on, Taylor?” he asked grimly. “I’m not very good at relationships, but even I can tell that you’re mad at me for some reason.”

“I’m not mad at you,” I said. “I’m mad at myself.”

He gave me an annoyed look. “Are you trying to be as unhelpful and confusing as possible? Because if you are, you should know you’ve succeeded.”

“Dexter. I know you went to see Laurel.” No reason to dance around the truth. If I was going to get him going on his way, I needed to shoot straight. “I’m not sure why you didn’t just tell me the truth. Were you playing some kind of game? Seeing if you could get the naïve college girl to trust you?”

“What?” He flinched noticeably. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re not really going to deny that you went over to Laurel’s that night, are you? The evidence is all over the internet.”

Dexter looked like he didn’t know what to say. “I’m not going to lie to you. I went to Laurel’s that night. But it’s not what you think.”

“You didn’t end our date early so that you could go be with her?” My question was sharp enough to cut through glass.

“She wasn’t the only reason I ended our date early.”

“Was that work story even real or did you lie about that, too?” I was mad at myself for how much the whole thing still bothered me. I was supposed to be over Dexter.

He shook his head slowly. “It doesn’t even matter what I say right now. You’ve already made up your mind about me.”

“Are you saying there’s a good explanation for what happened?” I challenged.

“Nope, I’m not saying that.” He slammed down his empty beer mug. “If you decide to change your mind about me, you know how to find me.”

I was too shocked to say anything as he walked away. Stupidly, I had expected him to stay and… what? Beg? Apologize? Grovel? Profess his eternal love for me?

That’s when I realized that I really was a naïve college girl. I expected Dexter to fight for me when I wouldn’t even give him a chance to explain. At least my streak of pushing people away before they had a chance to get close was still going strong.

The next day was Saturday and Cessy took me out for a traditional English breakfast followed by a girl’s day. She did her best to take my mind off everything, but watching her shop for shoes for three hours wasn’t exactly a pleasant distraction. I was slightly more excited when she took me to her favorite place for afternoon tea.

“I’m a big fan of tiny sandwiches,” I said with a mouth full of cucumber.

“Who needs a man when you have finger sandwiches and tea?”

We clinked our tea cups together. “I hereby declare a break from all things male.”

“That seems a tad extreme.” Cessy eyed me skeptically.

“I’m serious, Cess. I came to London to learn more about my family, not to make time with a rich wanker.”

“Make time?” She laughed. “You Americans speak funny.”

“It’s something my grandmother used to say.” Before I could launch further into my new vendetta, a familiar face caught my eye. “Wait. Is that…”

Cessy’s head swiveled and she gasped. “Laurel!”

It didn’t seem possible that Dexter’s other woman could be in the exact same restaurant as me on the exact same day and at the exact same time. Life was cruel sometimes.

“Stop staring at her,” I hissed.

It was too late. Laurel turned away from her friends at that exact moment and found both of us gawking at her. Once she was facing us, it was impossible not to notice her bulging belly.

“Whoops,” Cessy said, turning back to me. “She’s coming this way.”

I was suddenly very concerned with the amount of milk in my tea. While I stirred, Laurel made her way to our table.

“Pardon me.”

Cessy and I stared at each other, slightly panicked. Finally, I glanced up.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I believe we have a common friend.” She smiled warmly at me. “Dexter Sanders.”

“Yes, I know him,” I said in a clipped voice. I was surprised by how friendly she seemed. Maybe she didn’t know all of the details about my brief tryst with Dexter.

“I’m Laurel.” She held out her hand. “I’ve heard all about you, Taylor. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“Dexter told you about me?” To say I was surprised was putting it mildly.

Laurel’s smile widened. “Of course. He’s a big fan.”

“When are you due?” Cessy asked bluntly.

“March.” Laurel’s smile faded when she saw the looks on our faces.

“Dexter must be very excited.” Cessy’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she took a long sip of tea.

“He has been wonderful,” she said, looking between us uncertainly. “I don’t know if I would say that he is excited though.”

It was turning into the most awkward conversation of my life. “Well, if he isn’t excited, he’s sure good at pretending. He spends quite a bit of time at your place.”

“He does,” she admitted. “I think he feels responsible for some reason.”

“For some reason?” My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. “Probably because he donated the sperm.”

“What?” Her jaw dropped open. “You don’t think Dexter is the father, do you?”

I exaggerated a nod. “Well… yeah.”

“Oh my.” Laurel pointed to the empty chair at our table. “May I?”

I nodded again.

After she was seated, she said, “Dexter isn’t the father, Taylor.”

“Then who is?”

She looked around the room quickly and lowered her voice. “Bill Young.”

Now it was my turn to have my mouth drop open in surprise. “That’s impossible.”

“Who is Bill Young?” Cessy asked in a loud voice, drawing a reproachful look from Laurel.

“He is Dexter’s business partner.” Laurel’s eyes darkened. “He
was
my boss. Until we shagged and I got preggars. Now he’s being a wanker and denies that he is the father. As if I impregnated myself.”

“So Dexter isn’t the father?” My brain was scrambling to catch up.

“Of course not.” She looked at me in horror. “Did you not ask him?”

My brow furrowed. “I did ask him. He said he was trying to do the right thing.”

“He is helping me out financially until I find another job. Bill has refused to help and Dexter is a good man. I don’t know what I would have done without his help.” Laurel patted my hand. “He is mad about you. Lucky lass. Don’t bugger it up.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. “Too late,” I muttered.

The minute I got home, I rang Dexter’s number. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer. It was going to take more than a texted “I’m sorry” to make things right with him. It wasn’t until I really thought about everything that I realized I had never even given him a chance. When I’d asked him about Laurel, he had never admitted that he was the father. I had made that connection on my own. And I had been so wrong.