Her British Bard (Dream Come True Sweet Romance Book 2)
Page 2
Chapter Two
The streets of London were cramped and wet. At first, walking down them on her way to her new apartment, or 'flat' as they called it here, reminded Sofia a little of New York, but with shorter buildings and funnier looking cars all driving the wrong direction. By the second day, however, she decided they were more like the streets of Boston, a city that had been built without taking cars and traffic into consideration. The buildings were old and many were made of stone. Whole blocks were attached with no alley in between, though they were completely separate and unique buildings on the inside. Names of places were familiar to her; Fleet Street, Picadilly, Drury Lane, Waterloo, Trafalgar Square, and London Bridge to name a few. But that's where the familiarity ended. Everything else was absolutely new.
She had rented a one-bedroom flat several blocks away from the campus and without a view of the Thames River. This was an economic choice and satisfied her pragmatic personality. She would not be spending much time in her flat, so there was no need to worry too much about what she would see out her window.
By some miracle of miracles one of the few letters she had sent out during the last semester of school had made it through whatever labyrinth necessary to garner a 'yes' response and she was starting her career as a Research Assistant in the Natural and Mathematical Sciences Department at King's College London. It sounded impressive, because it was. King's was one of the most prestigious institutions in England. And her department was located at the Strand campus in the heart of London.
Sofia had yet to lay eyes on the campus, however. Partly because she wanted to spend her first week in London moving into her flat, and partly because she was too nervous to go there yet. As the newbie at the university, Sofia felt a lot of apprehension about her first day at work. She chose not to step foot anywhere near the place until it was absolutely necessary.
She had found her flat with the help of a kind administrative assistant at the university and some serious online searching. It was a one bedroom, about 600 square feet. The living area had a window overlooking the street on one end and a small kitchenette on the other. Hardwood floors in that room stretched into the tiny bedroom, which she was surprised to find didn't have a closet. Instead there was a small wardrobe, just like she'd seen in movies.
"Charming," she told Luna who was touring the place with her via cell phone on her first day there. "But where will I put my clothes?" She turned her cell camera so Luna could see the wardrobe.
Luna chuckled on the other end of the phone. "That looks like it will barely fit all of your shoes!"
The hardly there bathroom off the bedroom consisted of a toilet, a half-sized sink with what she considered a travel sized mirror hanging above it, and a small shower. When Luna saw the images she wondered out loud how Sofia would do her hair and makeup in this diminutive space.
"I'll manage," Sofia told her. So thankful to have a job, and a place to sleep while she went to her job, Sofia was feeling brave about her new life. She would learn to live with England's apparent love of small spaces.
The flat had come furnished. A faded blue plaid sofa and a drab bookshelf in the living area, a round bistro sized table with two wooden chairs next to the kitchenette, and a double bed, which was barely bigger than a twin size bed back home, wedged into the bedroom, were provided at no extra fee. What the apartment lacked in pizazz it made up for in price, not to mention the fact that it was clean and seemed sturdy and safe. She was located on the second floor of a four-story building. There was no elevator. This would give her better leg muscles, she told herself. There was also no air conditioning. Arriving mid-August, that was the only part of the deal that was worrisome.
Though furnished, the flat did not come with pots and pans or dishes for the kitchenette, nor bedding for the bed, nor rugs for the hardwood floor. Sofia spent several of her first days in London hunting down little shops in the area where she could purchase some of these items. She had no car, which was fine because she did not want the extra stress of trying to learn how to drive on the wrong side of the road. She walked everywhere she went and enjoyed getting to know the city a little. After a few days of wandering and poking her nose into every nearby shop, Sofia found plenty of house warming items to lug back to her building and up two flights of stairs.
She opted for a bright and quirky look to keep her mood up, in case she started feeling too homesick. New yellow curtains replaced the old brown ones, a yellow rug in front of the couch, and a yellow and blue striped throw finished off her living room. For her tiny kitchenette she found a bright blue tablecloth and a yellow vase for the table. She also found darling yellow and white checked dishes at a second hand place. They were on sale because there were only enough place settings for four. Sofia bought them, figuring it was unlikely she could ever fit more than three other people in her flat anyway.
She chose blue and white as the color scheme in her bedroom. She bought a blue and white floral comforter, blue curtains, and two small blue and white rag style rugs. She placed one rug on the side of her bed where she stood when she got up each morning and one on the floor of the tiny bathroom. Then she hung blue and white towels and washcloths in the bathroom. Then she was done. Totally decorated, totally organized, with days and days to spare before she started her job.
On the third day at her new place she was surprised to hear a sharp knock on the door. She opened it to a deliveryman with a huge bouquet of flowers from Lord and Lady MacBrody, or Michael and Tawnyetta as she knew them. The flowers took up every bit of space on her small kitchen table, but they were beautiful. With the flowers came a handwritten note from Tawnyetta.
‘So wonderful to know you're on our side of the pond now! We'll be down to visit you as soon as we can get away. Love, Tawnyetta and Michael’
As the days ticked off before her first day of work, the flowers on her table bloomed then started to wither. Still, she enjoyed them each morning. Looking at them made her feel just a little less lonesome. At least she had one friend in the same country where she lived.
Though her flat had no view to speak of, she was just blocks away from the Thames. She took a daily stroll to the river and found the way the sky opened up as she got closer and closer to the water exhilarating. Tall, ornate lamp posts with golden fish statues bigger than her head placed decoratively around the base were on every street corner. The Thames itself was wider and more industrial than she had imagined it would be. Still, it had a tree lined pathway that stretched along the edge. Benches were placed facing the river so she could look out over the water and watch the ships go by. Or the people.
She liked London. She liked her new flat, and the river, and the neighborhood.
"I've fallen in love with tea and biscuits," she told Bridget when she called one afternoon to see how Sofia was fairing.
"Oh, Fifi," Bridget giggled. "You sound so British already!"
One of Sofia's favorite discoveries was a narrow, unassuming bookstore called The Red Lion Bookshop, a sliver of a building nestled between a bank and another office building. Those buildings looked as if they'd been built within the past 50 years, while The Red Lion Bookshop looked as if it had been zapped into the alley between them by an old wizard who wanted to inject a sense of ancient whimsy into the space.
Narrow didn't quite describe this bookshop. Once inside there was just enough room for two people to pass...almost. The shop was crooked, too. The floor sloped to the right at the entrance then slowly rolled underfoot until it was sloping decidedly more to the left at the back of the shop. A tilted staircase led precariously up to a second then a third floor. Despite the obvious violation of modern day building codes, the tight and twisted qualities only added to The Red Lion's charm.
That's where she had gone on the Friday before she was to start her job. She returned happily from The Red Lion with an armful of new and used books to stack on her empty bookshelf. Just as she deposited her purse on the couch and the books in a neat line on the top shelf, there was a kn
ock on her front door.
Sofia glanced at the bouquet of flowers on her kitchen table. It couldn't be another delivery from Tawnyetta. She stepped to the door, pulled it open, and was completely surprised at who she found on the other side.
Chapter Three
"Bea!" Sofia declared.
Bea and her husband, Travis, were standing at her door. Sofia had gotten to know the couple while staying in Scotland at Tawnyetta's castle...before it was Tawnyetta's castle. Short and spunky, and always up for a laugh, Bea had been easy to know and like. Travis, on the other hand, had spent most of the time with his father and brother-in-law and came across much more reserved than his wife.
"Sofia!" Bea threw open her arms.
Sofia leaned down to give her a hug. "Come in," she said as she stepped aside and made room for them to enter. "What are you doing here?" Sofia asked as she motioned for them to take a seat on the sofa.
"You're in London," Bea said as she sat down and patted the seat next to her for Travis to take. She waved her hand back and forth between the two of them and Sofia. "We're in London."
"Right, of course," Sofia said. She had included Bea on her list of people to contact in London, but had not had the time to reach out to her just yet.
"Tawnyetta told us your address and we thought we would pop by as a surprise." When Bea said 'pop' she flared her fingers out and wiggled them. Jazz hands.
Sofia smiled. "Would you like something to drink?"
Luckily, she had been to the liquor store the day before and picked up a bottle of white wine. She offered it to them in the yellow and white checked coffee mugs from her cupboard.
"Sorry, no wine glasses yet," she explained.
Bea giggled. Bea was always giggling at something. "These are darling! Aren't they, Travis?"
Travis, a tall, droopy looking man, nodded without looking up. "Tastes the same either way," he said quietly then quickly downed half of the wine in his cup in one gulp.
"How do you like your new place?" Bea asked.
"I like it just fine. Just settling in."
"When do you start at King's?" Bea seemed well informed about Sofia's life. Sofia didn't mind. It was nice to talk to friendly faces.
"Monday morning," she answered as she poured more wine for Travis. He had swallowed the second half just as quickly as the first.
"Travis studied there," Bea offered this information as she nudged her husband.
Travis looked up from his cup and let the comment register before responding, "Oh, yes, yes." It was obvious to Sofia that he had been coached by his wife before they got there. "I did. Fine university. What department will you be in?"
"Natural and Mathematical Sciences."
To her surprise, Travis' droopy eyes lit up. "That was my department."
"Really?"
To say that Travis was an introvert was probably an understatement. Now that he had gulped down a glass of wine and found out that Sofia shared his math and science brain, he loosened up.
"Wait," he said as he sat forward on the cushion. "Will you be working with Professor Shipley?"
Just the mention of the man's name hit Sofia's internal nervous button. She nodded 'yes'.
Travis blew a quiet whistle. "That's a challenge, that is."
"Now, now," Bea nudged Travis again, this time a bit harder than the first time. "We came by to invite you to dinner, not talk about crusty old professors." Travis didn't appear to hear her at first. She nudged again.
"What's that?" he said as he turned to his wife. She raised her eyebrows at him and her meaning came through. "Of course, of course, won't you join us for dinner tomorrow night?" Travis asked Sofia.
Sofia hedged for just a moment before answering, "Thank you, that's very nice. I would love to."
The next evening it was Sofia's turn to knock on a door.
She had found Bea and Travis's small house with not too much trouble. Thank goodness for the taxi service. Their home was in Hampstead, which was a pretty area. A charming stone walkway led to a front door that was painted robin's egg blue. An iron fence flanked both sides of the path. So many flowers and shrubs filled the small front yard that they spilled over the fence and their scent filled the air, bringing lightness to Sofia's heart. She was glad to be settled into her new place and happy to be joining friends for dinner. Everything about her new life here seemed to be coming together. Maybe she could start to relax.
She shifted the bottle of wine she'd brought as a gift into her left hand where she already held her purple sweater, it might rain later in the evening. She knocked on the blue door with her free hand. The muffled sound of talking and laughing came through from the other side. She heard footsteps getting louder as they neared, the click of a lock disengaging, then the door pulled open.
The smile she expected to give Bea froze on her face and her greeting stuck in her throat. It wasn't Bea who answered the door. Nor was it Travis as she might have expected. It was, instead, a complete stranger. A man. Tall, fair-skinned, with deep red hair cut short and styled well. He had a strikingly handsome face that left her searching for words and...was she seeing it right? Yes, she was. Golden yellow eyes.
Sofia opened her mouth then shut it again. She was overcome with the feeling that she'd seen him before...but no...that would be impossible.
"I'm sorry," she stammered as she looked at the numbers over the door for verification of where she was. "I must have the wrong house." Sofia stepped back so she could retreat to the sidewalk and regroup when the man spoke up and stopped her.
"Wait, no, you're Sofia, right?"
She halted and looked more closely at him. "Yes, I am. Do I know you?"
"Not yet," the man smiled and it seemed to light up the space around him. "I'm Ian," he said. Then he stepped back into the door and gestured for her to come inside. Her eyes were drawn to his arms, exposed by his short-sleeved shirt. They were taunt and roped with muscle. They were also covered with tattoos. "Bea and Travis are in the kitchen wrestling with some kind of lamb dish. They asked me to get the door." His voice was deep, smooth, a British accent of course.
Ian. Ian? Where did she know him from?
Sofia came through the door cautiously and went straight into a tight entryway. Ian pressed himself against the wall with one arm stretched out to hold the door open for her as she came in. The space was so small that they ended up very close together. As Sofia inched carefully by him she took in his excellent bone structure, the golden yellow of his eyes, his cologne–which was completely distracting–and the tattoos on his neck snaking out from under the collar of his shirt.
Tattoos. Tattoos! That's why he looked familiar. She looked up at him with sudden recognition. This was the lead singer of the band at Tawnyetta's wedding. What were they called again?
Ian grinned down at her in a kind of 'I know you but you don't know me' way as she made her way by him. One wrong move by either of them and their bodies would touch in several different places. Her eyes wandered quickly down his lean form and decided that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. She remembered the rush of excitement she had felt when he winked at her from the stage at Tawnyetta's wedding reception. The sex appeal he exuded while performing had been enticing.
"Aren't you?" She stopped. She could not remember the name of the band. "Weren't you...?"
Ian lifted his eyebrows waiting for her to finish.
"Didn't you sing at the wedding? At the castle?" She finally got the words out, if a bit awkwardly.
His face so close to hers, already amused, broke into another wide smile that spread so completely across his expression it was like he was shining. Then he ducked his head down in a half proud, half embarrassed way. He lifted his gaze to hers from that position and his smile came from deep in his eyes. Goosebumps shimmered up her arms and across her neck.
"Yes, I did. For Michael, er, I mean Laird MacBrody."
He switched his British accent to Scottish brogue as he said Michael's title with a flourish, making
her smile then blush. A reaction to their closeness and his intensity. Was it getting hot in here? She suddenly realized that she had not yet moved all the way past him and their bodies were still in danger of pressing against each other. She stepped further down the hallway, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.
Sofia had dressed semi-casual for the evening. She wore crisp tailored grey slacks that cropped just above her ankle and had topped them off with a baby doll style, black blouse that showed off her bust line. Her heels were a cute pair of sling back sandals. Her straight, black hair was up in a knotted bun, but long tresses in the front fell down and framed her face. She called it her 'Meghan before she married Harry' bun.
Ian had on a pair of dark jeans and a black short-sleeved button up shirt. Though monotone, the shirt had a sleek, sexy, rockabilly look to it that definitely gave him a musician vibe. Or maybe it was the tattoos. Sofia was still in the middle of the small hallway looking back at him, and he at her, when Bea called out to her from somewhere deeper in the house.
"You remember Ian, don't you Sofia?"
Sofia broke the look she was sharing with Ian and turned to Bea, but not before she saw a sparkle in Ian's strange, gold eyes. "Yes," she said to Bea. "From the wedding."
Bea ushered her into a smartly decorated dining area where four places were set at a dinner table and said, "Yes! The Robot Tellers!"
That's right, that was his band's name.
Travis, wearing a full size floral print apron, joined them from the kitchen. His face brightened when he saw her. "Hello, Sofia."
"Hello," Sofia said as she lifted the wine bottle. "I brought some wine for dinner."
Dinner, it turned out, was the four of them; Bea, Travis, Sofia, and Ian. Having an attractive man as the unexpected fourth threw Sofia for a bit of a loop. However, Bea was so good at keeping up the conversation and Travis was much less introverted in his own home, all of which made the whole night tolerable. More than tolerable if she was being honest. The wine helped, too.