Finding Home

by Marianne Evans

The apartment was a delicious sight. Vanessa’s creativity and eye for all things beautiful infused the space. Flowers, family photos and warm paint colors textured by wood accents combined into a cozy mix of comfort and gentility. A stateliness befitting Peter’s personality also mixed into the décor. Green and white marble tile formed the entryway, and to the immediate right was a spacious great room that Alexa peeked into upon passing that seemed to lead to a luxuriously appointed study overlooking the bustling street.

  “This is spectacular.” She held on to Vanessa by the waist. “And I can tell you’re living by your own style advice. You look absolutely awesome.”

  “Oh, Lexie.” Vanessa gave her a side hug and a radiant smile. “You’re ace.”

  Tall and angular, with striking brown eyes, short, spiked ebony hair and fair skin, Vanessa looked every inch the fashion model, and Alexa imagined clients thronged to the personal shopping arena of Harrods to receive Vanessa’s style tips and input on clothing selections. She wore a black sheath, a deep purple cardigan, and a pair of black leather stilettos that Alexa admired—despite the way she knew they would feel on her feet.

  “I’ll show you to your room upstairs, then I’ve got to get to work, but I want you to grab some rest,” Vanessa said. “When you wake up, Peter’s under direct orders to bring you straight to Harrods.”

  Alexa shuddered and checked her watch. That’s right—it was only about ten o’clock in the morning. Back in California it was…oh, forget the math.

  Vanessa squeezed her hand. “I’ve pulled some strings and reserved you the best table for tea at the Georgian because I know it’s your favorite. The British economy has suffered long enough without you. Countless sales clerks wait with rose petals and an attitude of complete delirium.”

  “You’re such a funny woman.”

  The threesome trooped up a narrow and steep set of carpeted stairs.

  “Are you hungry?” Peter inquired. “Do you want anything to eat?”

  “No, thanks, I’m all set. I’ll be fine until later.” Alexa loved the instantaneous return of connection to her college friends. “For now, I just want to crash for a couple of hours.”

  Peter opened the second door on their right. “Here’s your room. Rest for as long as you like.”

  At the threshold, Alexa went still and breathed deep. Tears built against her lashes when she turned to her friends. So much was different now—yet so much was the same. Her chin quivered. For a few beats of time, all she could do was reach out and hug them both tight. They let her hold fast for a moment before she backed away. She was exhausted and overcome by loving gratitude. Alexa re-gathered herself as best she could.

  “Thank you, guys. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you both—and how much being with you means to me.”

  3

  The distant, though ear-tickling rumble of Peter’s deep laugh greeted Alexa when she rose from her nap a few hours later. The aroma of coffee…blessed, blessed coffee…wafted up the stairwell, enticing her forward. She rolled out of bed, padded to the door, and twisted the knob. Slowly she pushed open the door, and grinned when the hinges heaved out a gentle creak. What a fabulous old place. It actually spoke to her.

  “Sarah, I’m sorry, but, dinner’s out.” Moving down the stairs and toward the entrance of the kitchen, Alexa’s ears pricked when she detected Peter’s end of what seemed to be a phone conversation. “I’ve got a friend in from the States whom I haven’t seen in an age. Yep. Soon enough, though. Promise.” Another chuckle. “OK. That’d be brilliant. Thanks for the understanding.”

  Alexa paused, not wanting to interrupt a private conversation, but at the same time, she decided it best to make her presence known.

  Without missing a beat, she stepped into the kitchen and offered Peter a smile. She paused just long enough to pull a mug down from the glassed-in cabinet above the counter.

  While she poured herself a cup of coffee, Peter sent a nod of greeting and continued. “I’ll ring you back later, Sarah. Yep. Cheers.” He disengaged the call and focused entirely on Alexa. Awareness danced against her skin, pleasant and welcome, but entirely unexpected. “Are you sufficiently rested?”

  His tender inquiry stirred a curve to Alexa’s lips. She downed a large and delicious dose of coffee. “Absolutely. Thanks for the caffeine boost. Much appreciated.”

  She wondered who Sarah was. Peter’s tone had been rich and quiet…implying a type of intimacy. Was he involved now? That certainly wouldn’t be surprising. He was extraordinary, really…but…

  “Am I at risk of being kicked out of the country?” Alexa opted to tease her way out of jealousy’s unexpected bite and the stirring warmth that flowed when she considered Peter Colby and romance. Was she that jetlagged?

  “What do you mean by that, love?”

  The endearment, so typical in Britain, sounded fantastic coming from him. And, it occurred to her that he hadn’t referred to Sarah by that term. “Well, judging by what I just heard, it seems I might be responsible for the London social scene suffering the absence of one of its most eligible bachelors.”

  Peter moved through the kitchen, snagging a crusty roll from the container and a mug of tea that steamed on the counter. He settled on a nearby stool and Alexa studied him. Tall, lean and lithe, he had wavy, dark brown hair, wide shoulders, and a dimpled smile capped by flashing green eyes.

  “No worries. There’s still plenty of royalty to sustain us through any socioeconomic hardships. Besides, I’m not forsaking the fun life. I fully intend for you to join me.”

  The retort caused Alexa to scald her throat when she swallowed a blazing hot sip of coffee to keep from laughing outright. “I see. Then you’re not worried I’ll interfere with your love life?” She placed teasing emphasis on the last two words, scooting around him in the smallish space so she could claim the stool next to his. Brushing against him, even in the most innocent way, landed on an unsettling push of wistfulness.

  “I refuse to dignify that with a comment. Are you ready for tea at Harrods?”

  “Mmm…Harrods.” Alexa closed her eyes, distracting herself by anticipating the spicy smells, the colors and hubbub of the store.

  She felt a soft touch against her chin. “Lexie-love, you’re salivating.”

  Her eyes sprang open. She tensed, but opted to maintain their interplay rather than sink into the dangerous waters of a needy heart. “Maybe I am, but you better beware. I’ve found my second wind.”

  He focused on her, his jade eyes alight with playful sparkles and a wealth of affection. “That’s music to my ears.”

  She lost herself to him. Peter Colby? she thought. Really?

  The idea ebbed into her spirit with a clarity that temporarily stunned her speechless.

  Yes, her heart replied unequivocally. Absolutely, Peter Colby.

  ****

  “It’s freezing cold!”

  “That thinned out, California blood of yours needs to thicken up.”

  “What about all those fringe benefits you talked about? I thought you said it would snow. I thought you said it would be like Dickens. The streets are bare. I bought this snazzy red cap just so I’d be protected from dancing snowflakes. All I get in return are clouds and a wind that cuts clean through to my bones.”

  Amidst their teasing banter, Alexa huddled against Peter’s side. They trotted up the tube station stairwell. Aboveground, they followed crowds of people toward the famed green awning of Harrods department store. After bouncing a fingertip against the small visor of her puffy, red-knit cap, Peter tucked his hand over hers. “I simply embellished. You know? You carry off the British look very well.”

  “Why, thank you.” she squeezed his arm. “And, that was a very nice save.”

  The instant a green liveried doorman admitted them across the threshold of the store, Alexa’s footsteps came to a stop. Nipping her lower lip, she extended a hand to keep Peter in place. She closed her eyes for a tiny interlude of revelry. “Oh…my.” She went weak with deligh
t. “Sorry. I just…I need a moment.”

  Peter released a merry chuckle then leaned in close to whisper, “Welcome home.”

  She sighed happily. “Indeed.”

  Once she opened her eyes, images exploded all around her. Before her stretched Christmas splendor of every style, shape, and fashion. There were women in fur coats, women in simple wool. There were men dressed for work, and men dressed down for an interlude of casual holiday shopping. There were jeans and jewels, there were wrapped packages carried beneath arms, or tucked into expansive sacks. Bustling patrons hustled from spot to spot. Christmas music sounded from above, soft and appealing. She recalled detesting such odes to the holidays just a few weeks ago—but not anymore. The mixed aromas of perfume and pine and cinnamon potpourri tickled her nose. Sparkling lights shone upon garlands of evergreen and shimmering ornaments that dangled from the ceiling on swags of silver and gold, red and green.

  “The Georgian awaits,” Peter informed, leading her toward an up-bound escalator that would transport them to the fourth floor. There, the first thing Alexa spied was the massive, crystal chandelier which formed a centerpiece for the expansive restaurant. They were led to a window-side table that overlooked the stately elegance of Brompton Road.

  “Vannie outdid herself.” Transfixed by the view, Alexa perched upon a velveteen seat after Peter drew out her chair. “Securing a table like this? At the height of the Christmas season? She’s amazing.”

  Peter claimed the spot directly across while Alexa took in the curved, vivid white ceiling of carved plaster with its famed art nouveau skylight high above. Heavy cloth draperies of burgundy framed the narrow window to her right. The table was prepared to perfection with tan linens, fine bone china, iced water, and chilled flutes of Harrods’s house champagne. They opened leather menus and relaxed for a moment, considering tea and food-service options.

  Peter slipped his phone from the breast pocket of his suit coat and flipped it open. “I better text Vanessa so she’ll know we’re here.”

  While Peter worked the keyboard, Alexa pulled her phone from her purse and checked cyber messages as well. She came upon two unread texts.

  The first one came from Derrick.

  Even seeing his name on the display screen squeezed the air from her chest. She firmed her spine and clicked it open, already setting her jaw and narrowing her eyes.

  Heard ur in London. Wow. Hope u can touch base w/me when you get back. Really want to talk. Feel increasingly bad about how we ended. Need to make amends if possible.

  Alexa released a quiet growl.

  Peter pocketed his phone. “Is everything OK? You seem a bit flummoxed.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Peter kept quiet, but she noticed the way he studied her while she clicked the second message open. This one came from a number she didn’t recognize.

  Hi, Alexa—Ray Callahan here. Hope u settled in OK w/ur friends. Think ur schedule might allow for a dinner engagement? Would love 2 talk 2 u again—and show u around the bank. Interested? Let me know. Cheers.

  Following the dangerous blood-pressure surge caused by Derrick’s missive, the communiqué from Ray left her intrigued—off-center in a way. She wasn’t attracted, but feared he might be. Ray was nice enough, and she had enjoyed the conversation they shared during the flight, but dinner? The idea of touring the headquarters for the Bank of England held tremendous appeal, but she didn’t like the idea of surrendering time with Peter—and Vanessa, too, of course.

  She fiddled with her phone, staring at the device. Her brows furrowed while she tried to figure out how to respond to Ray. Derrick’s message had already gone into the trash pile, but she kind of regretted that. If he wanted to apologize, shouldn’t she, as a Christian, allow him the opportunity? She’d think about that once she returned to LA.

  Alexa sighed, but came around abruptly when Peter’s hand slid against the back of hers. “Come on. Out with it. What’s going on?”

  His easy going demeanor had evaporated behind a cloud of concern. Touched, Alexa turned her hand over to squeeze his fingers. She gave him a smile. “I got a couple of messages.” She gave him a pointed look. “The first one was from Derrick.”

  Stony silence moved past while Peter searched her eyes. “You’re joking.” In only a beat of time, he transformed into a protective lion—she could see it in his eyes—and she appreciated the reaction. “Lexie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Delete it.”

  She laughed quietly. “I already did. I’m off his rollercoaster ride for good. It sounds like he wants to apologize. Make amends, he said. When I get home, I might give him the chance to do that, but I’m finished. He’s easily dismissed, so, no worries. Honest.”

  Restored, Peter unfolded his napkin and settled it across his lap. “Glad to hear it.”

  “The second message was far more interesting.”

  “Oh?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Ray Callahan, the banker guy I met on the plane? He wants to have dinner with me.”

  Again, Peter’s answer was silence. Alexa chuckled affectionately. “OK, now you’re the one who’s a bit flummoxed.”

  “No, just riding on full-alert where you’re concerned.”

  “My hero and protector.”

  “Always.”

  “Well, again I say, don’t worry. You know me—the left brain and the right brain have always fought it out over my life choices, and for the most part my practical side wins.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. Meanwhile, here I am—the business-minded, career-driven bachelor carrying merrily on.”

  Alexa shrugged at his verdict. “You’re completely adorable.”

  “As are you, love. Makes us two of a kind, eh? So are you going to go to din—”

  “Oh, stop feeding each other’s egos.” Adorably surly, Vanessa swept to their table, pecked them both on the cheek, and dropped onto the nearest chair. “Are you sufficiently rested, Lexie? You look fantastic.”

  The affectionate inquiry elicited a grin from Alexa, but Peter seemed a bit perturbed by the suddenness of his sister’s interruption. What had he been asking…?

  Alexa focused on Vanessa, ever the style icon in a pale pink knit dress, black fashion boots and a thick, black leather belt that pulled the ensemble together. “I am, thanks, and you earn top marks as well, you fashionista. Your timing’s perfect. We were about to order.”

  The selection process required little thought or effort. Their host asked them to select two teas—they opted for a fragrant Moroccan mint, which had always been Alexa’s favorite, and the classic Georgian blend. Soon after, a pair of china pots and a matching, three-tiered china service was settled at their table. The platters of food featured a selection of finger sandwiches, sweets, and breads.

  Before digging in, although her stomach gurgled with anticipation, Alexa bowed her head and prayed over their food. Peter did the same. Vanessa, however, was quietly respectful, but didn’t join in. That was pretty much as Alexa expected.

  Blessing complete, Alexa turned a fond gaze on her friend. “Do you get to have tea with us, or is this just a short break?”

  Vanessa poured herself a cup of the Georgian blend and relaxed against the back of her seat. “Well, seeing as how I just endured a shopping episode with a countess who acts anything but royal, I’d say I’m entitled to an hour of indulgence.”

  Alexa admired the way nothing got the better of Vanessa Colby. “Good for you.”

  “So.” Vanessa lifted a cucumber and mint yogurt sandwich and bit into it delicately. “Talk to me about the Facebook exchange that started this whole trip. After all, I didn’t need that countdown clock to make it clear Derrick the Beast had taken a machete to your heart.”

  Like a bookmark in a conversation that had never quite ended, Alexa gladly picked up on the threads of trust and affection that had always ridden between the three of them.

  “I refer to him as Derrick the Destroyer myself, and you know most of it.” Ravenous,
she sampled a truffled egg salad with cress so delicious it caused her to hum with approval. “We became engaged at the end of last year. We apartment shopped and found a great place to live that was central to both of our jobs. We put money down on a long-term lease and, two months away from the big day, he sprung Carrie on me. Mystical, magical, mind-muddling Carrie. I was humiliated. We had the church and reception hall lined up. The flowers were ordered; the invitations were addressed and stamped. Everything was ready to go.”

  She tried not to feel shame. She tried not to feel easily dismissed and degraded. Alexa blew out a soft puff of air and focused instead on the flavor burst of an English scone smeared with rose petal jelly and topped by clotted cream. Heaven.

  “There I was, with a wedding dress already in the process of alteration—and you’d appreciate this, Vannie, it was a divine piece of shimmering satin with a band of embedded crystals along the waist—”

  “Yummy.”

  Alexa nodded. “Yep. Everything was perfect, right up until the point where my heart got ripped out.”

  “But did it?”

  As Peter spoke, Alexa froze in the midst of reaching for an almond and blueberry crumble. She had already given thought to somehow tracking down the recipe for the small, pie-shaped confection. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, not to play the heartless cad in this scenario, or appear to be unsympathetic, because I’m most definitely ready to have a go with Derrick Maddox anytime, anywhere, but—”

  “But what?”

  Vanessa and Alexa issued the sharp question in unison, staring at Peter askance. He remained undaunted. “Lexie, what if you’d married him? Think about it.” Silence rode by. “You’re better off, love.”

  Peter’s gaze moved from Alexa to Vanessa, and he withstood their probing, dual stares until Vanessa let out a tiny sound and finally lifted her tea cup and took a sip. At length, she shook her head, addressing Alexa. “He’s really quite astute. Who knew? Still, you ought never to have had your life robbed like that. Not ever.”

  “Agreed,” Peter responded immediately—and emphatically.