by Carsen Taite
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Perry slumped at the realization neither she nor Campbell had considered the hotel wouldn’t just fork over her important documents without some proof of who she was, even if the whole reason she needed the documents was to prove that very fact. She had two choices: she could either leave in a huff or use her lawyer superpowers to come up with a good argument to convince Front Desk Guy she was legit. Only one option would get her what she needed to get back to work.
“Here’s the deal. The contents of the envelope you’re holding are the key to not only my future, but the future of people who’ve been deprived of essential freedoms. Have you ever felt robbed of the chance to live a better life? One where you felt respected and free to be whoever you wanted without fear of repercussions that might be life-threatening?” She paused to see if she was making any headway. Front Desk Guy wore the unflappable expression made famous by the Brits, but she sensed by the twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips that he might still have a heart underneath.
“Sir, I suggest you give her the package. Otherwise she’s going to keep talking until your ears fall off.”
Perry swung around in the direction of the voice to see her sister’s best friend, Grace, standing two feet away, looking even more drop-dead gorgeous than she had when Perry used to fill her high school notebooks with Odes to Grace on the daily. Seeing Grace here, in a London hotel lobby, was surreal and more than a little exciting.
“Grace, what are you doing here?” she asked as she pulled Grace into a fierce hug. “I thought you were in biz with Campbell in Austin. Did you go back to big law?”
“Hang on,” Grace said, signaling to the guy at the front desk. “Sir, I believe there’s a question you’re supposed to ask the intended recipient of that envelope. Perhaps it’s written on the back?”
They both watched while he flipped it over. “Oh,” he said. He fixed Perry with a penetrating stare. “What is the name of your childhood pet?”
Perry laughed. They’d never had a pet, but she’d begged her parents for a dog, and said if they got it for her she’d name it after her favorite character in The Outsiders. “Ponyboy.”
He consulted the note on the envelope. “Very well, right you are.” He handed it to Perry, and she tore it open and shook out the contents, but instead of the documents she needed, the only thing inside was a small folder with a keycard emblazoned with the hotel logo. She shoved her hand deeper into the envelope but came up empty. “What the hell?”
Grace handed the guy some pound notes, and took her arm, guiding her away from the desk where a line had formed. “That’s your room key. Campbell thought you might like to have a comfortable place to wait until your passport is ready. I hear you’ve had it pretty rough since getting booted out of Crimea.”
Perry’s brain started churning. How did Campbell obtain a keycard and send it all the way back to London? Oh, wait, she could’ve called the hotel to make the arrangements. But what was Grace doing here? “Wait, I’m confused. What are you doing here again?”
Grace didn’t answer at first, but Perry could tell her brain was churning, and she had a feeling she knew why. “Oh, I get it. Campbell sent you.”
“Not exactly.”
Perry raised her eyebrows, urging her to explain.
“I volunteered,” Grace said, effectively sidestepping the question. She handed her an envelope. “There’s cash in there from Campbell and your documents are locked in the safe in my room. I have a contact at the state department who’s going to personally handle the processing of your replacement passport.”
Perry stood. “Great. Let’s go see them now.”
“He’s not in today, but we have an appointment for tomorrow.” Grace pointed at the key in her hand. “Why don’t you stow your stuff in your room and I’ll buy you lunch.”
From the time she was a little kid, Perry had believed there was no finer, smarter, more desirable female on the planet than Grace Maldonado. She was certain some embarrassing doodle hearts with hers and Grace’s initials in the middle existed in the storage trunk where she kept all her grade school memorabilia, and she’d spent many sleepless youthful nights dreaming about what life would be like if she only had the courage to declare her love to Grace so they could live happily ever after.
Two things kept her dreams from being fulfilled: Grace barely noticed her except in a big sister, pat you on the head and tell you to run along kind of way, and Grace was her sister’s best friend, which meant if Perry had acted on her fantasies, Campbell would’ve told her she was being silly and effectively crushed the crush.
Now Grace was asking her out which meant she was at least getting Grace’s attention, but it was still in that “you’re the little kid and I’ll take care of you” kind of way—not fantasy making material.
But she wasn’t the same little kid who’d trailed around after her big sister with an unrelenting crush on big sis’s bestie. She’d traveled the world. She’d seen things—horrible things—and worked hard to make a difference. Campbell and Grace had graduated from law school and joined forces with the big fat wallets of corporate law, donating to causes, but never seeing crises with their own eyes. She might have a lead on them in the living real experiences department, but no matter how accomplished she might be, Grace would never see her for anything other than the pesky kid who’d found a million excuses to interrupt her time with Campbell.
“Come on,” Grace said. “It’s lunch. Not a lot to think about unless you think I’m here to poison you.” She pointed at the key in Perry’s hand. “Go put your stuff away and meet me back here.”
As if on cue, Perry’s stomach rumbled. She’d gotten up too late for breakfast at the hostel, and all she’d eaten the night before was some of those crazy good chili puffs the bartender at the pub had rummaged from behind the bar. “Okay. I’ll be down in a sec.”
While she waited for the elevator, she watched Grace take a seat in the lounge. Grace pulled out her phone and started typing, likely answering a message from a demanding client. It wasn’t like Perry begrudged the hard work Grace, Abby, and Campbell did back in Austin, but she didn’t understand how they could do the same thing, day in and day out.
The room was at the end of the hall on the twelfth floor, and when Perry pushed open the door, she immediately thought she’d walked into someone else’s luxurious suite by mistake. The front room had a large wet bar and seating area with two couches. She wandered her way farther in to find a large master suite with a four-poster king-sized bed, a massive wardrobe, and a desk suitable for a corporate CEO. The bathroom was bigger than two rooms at the hostel, and it was outfitted with cushy towels and fancy soaps and lotions and a fluffy robe emblazoned with the hotel logo. Perry pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the largess and texted them to Campbell.
What’s with the fancy digs?
She shoved her phone in her pocket and stowed her bag in the wardrobe. She took one last look at the waste of space and started toward the door when her phone buzzed with a reply.
Thought you could use a little pampering after what you’ve been through. Enjoy yourself. It’s on me.
Perry started typing a response, but she only got a few words out before backspacing to modulate her initial annoyance. She started again and then stopped several times before she finally picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hey, you,” Campbell said in her usual chipper voice despite the fact it was o’dark thirty in Austin.
“Hey.”
“Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why do you keep asking that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not such a weird question to ask one’s little sister who was just evacuated from a country while under threat of death.”
Leave it to Campbell to exaggerate the circumstances. “It wasn’t that bad. If you’d lived in countries under severe unrest like I have, you would realize your welcome is never a guarantee. Don’t worry, I escaped with all my white, capita
list freedom intact.”
Campbell laughed. “Glad to hear it. In the meantime, I’m using my white capitalist freedom to buy you a fancy hotel suite. Don’t worry, I don’t think a few days in luxury will taint your passion for the downtrodden.”
Perry started to make some remark about how free and easy Campbell was with the money they’d received from their parents’ death, but she was too worn out and too hungry to get into a debate right now. Besides, Grace was waiting downstairs. “Did you ask Grace to come?”
“No, it was her idea. I guess you’ve seen her?”
“Yes. She said she has a contact at the embassy.”
“She does. She’ll take good care of you.”
The words had the dual effect of being both inviting and annoying. “I appreciate all of you thinking I can’t take care of myself, but other than needing my documents, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Of course,” Campbell said. “But it doesn’t hurt to have people willing to help you out, right?”
Campbell always did that—made every argument sound so rational that she’d look like a jerk if she didn’t agree. “Yeah, sure. Look, I’ve got to go, Grace is waiting downstairs.”
“No worries. Let me know when you’ve got everything squared away.”
“Sure,” Perry said, although she had no doubt Grace would keep Campbell updated on her every move.
“And, Perry?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Perry knew it was true, no matter how much Campbell nagged her about their differences. “I know. Me too.”
She took a second to check her reflection in the mirror to make sure she didn’t look like a total vagabond. Several pieces of hair were jutting out at odd angles in a way that could conceivably be called trendy, but which she knew was merely the result of her lack of skill with a pair of scissors. Her cargo shorts were a bit wrinkled and her I’m the Nasty Woman You’ve Been Looking For T-shirt had a couple of small holes from wear, but nothing she couldn’t hide with her jacket. She was clean and alive and she had her freedom. Grace would either be okay with how she looked or she wouldn’t.
She remembered being a kid, sneaking into Campbell’s closet and stealing her designer jeans in an effort to impress Grace. Now, years later, she’d apparently grown out of the crush because Grace was taking her to lunch and she didn’t care about impressing her. Mostly.
Chapter Four
Grace looked up from the magazine and sucked in a breath. Twenty-five-year-old Perry Clark was a completely different person than the kid who’d followed her and Campbell around years ago. Some things hadn’t changed. Based on the work she did and her reluctance to accept help, she was likely the same rebellious, hardheaded kid she’d been years ago, but her entire appearance had changed. She’d grown into her once gangly and awkward long legs and tall body, and now she strode through the lobby with loads of confidence that came from being lithe and handsome. Staring at Perry’s spiky hair fade and piercing brown eyes, Grace realized grown-up Perry was a force, and she recalibrated her strategy about getting her to agree to come home. This would take as much finesse as a corporate merger.
She stood as Perry approached. “How hungry are you?”
“I’m vegetarian.”
“Uh, okay. I’m not sure that answers the question, but good to know.”
Perry scowled. “I wanted to get that out there right away before you drag me to some place where they serve dead flesh.”
Grace laughed. “So, I’m guessing a Sunday roast is not in my future?”
“Oh, it can be in your future, but I won’t be joining you unless they have a veggie option.” Perry frowned. “Wait, do you think it’s going to take that long to get my passport?”
Grace silently chastised herself for referencing time in any way. It was Wednesday, and her plan was to get Perry on a plane to Austin by the end of the week, but her best bet for a sneak attack was to be as vague as possible. She shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll talk to my friend tomorrow and find out what we can.”
“Besides, it’s not like you’d have to wait around. Once you hook me up with your contact, I can take it from there.”
“Maybe I’d like to see the city while I’m here. You know, do some touristy things.”
“Don’t you need to get back to work?”
Grace cocked her head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.” She tucked Perry’s arm under hers. “Let’s eat and then make plans. Like Campbell says, food makes it easier to think.”
Perry laughed. “She does say that and she’s not wrong. Okay with you if I pick the place?”
“Absolutely.”
They left the hotel and walked a few blocks. Grace realized she’d brought exactly the wrong shoes and made a mental note to find a new pair as soon as they’d eaten.
“Are you okay back there?”
Grace hid a grimace. “Sure. Overnight on the plane must’ve left me out of shape.”
“You’re probably exhausted. You didn’t take a nap when you got to the hotel, did you?”
“Not a chance. I read it’s the worst thing you can do.”
“The place I want to go is a bit of a hike. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
Grace weighed her options. She wanted to put on a strong face and act like she could keep up, and on a day she hadn’t traveled halfway around the world she could, but there was no sense pretending when it was likely she’d fall over dead before they reached their destination. “I’m totally up for it. The destination, not the hike. How about I spring for an Uber?”
Perry frowned. “An Uber, really?”
“Uh, yes.” She held up her phone. “Quick, easy. Faster to the food.”
“If you want to put food in the mouths of millionaires at the expense of hardworking people. Besides, I thought they lost their license to operate here.”
“I checked. It’s on appeal. And I’m pretty sure the hardworking people get paid to work for them, plus they’re independent contractors. They get to set their own hours, work when and if they want.”
“Sure, it sounds great until you scratch below the surface. The average Uber driver spends more than they make the first year with their initial investment in the type of car the company wants them to drive and extras like water bottles—don’t get me started on that—and snacks to win extra stars on their ratings from consumers who don’t give a rat’s ass if they’re making a living wage as long as they can get a ride at the punch of a button. Consumerism at its finest.”
Every ounce of Grace’s attorney brain wanted to argue the point, but Campbell’s voice echoed in her brain, asking her to convince Perry to come back to Austin. She wasn’t going to make any headway with typical adversarial moves. She’d have to find another way. In the meantime, if she didn’t eat soon, she wouldn’t be able to convince anyone of anything. “Let’s compromise. How about the Tube? You have any moral objections to riding on an underground train packed with tons of people?”
Perry grinned. “None. And it’s much more energy efficient than one car carting the two of us across town.” She pointed to a sign on the right. “Here you go.”
Grace followed Perry down the narrow stairs to the bustling station. She insisted on buying their tickets, but once they reached the platform, she ceded power to Perry to navigate to their destination. Once on the train, she was grateful to find an open seat where she leaned against the frame and let her eyes fall shut for a moment.
“It’s our stop.”
Grace sighed at the soft voice and gentle nudge. “Umkay,” she murmured, enjoying the comforting envelope of darkness that encircled her like a cocoon.
“Grace, can you wake up for me?”
Grace’s eyes fluttered open, but everything was blurry. She rubbed her eyes until they adjusted to the light, and bemoaned the cozy darkness she’d enjoyed a moment before. She was leaning against Perry’s shoulder, and at the realization, s
he immediately straightened in her seat. “What’s happening?”
“You’re on a train and we’re headed to lunch. Are you still up for it?”
“Of course.” Grace smiled to cover a suspicion she’d been drooling. She couldn’t remember sleeping this hard since the night after the bar exam. “Are we there yet?”
“Next stop.”
When they emerged from underground, the street was bustling with people, many of them tourists judging by the variety of accents, venturing in and out of the colorful shops lining the street. “Are you going to give me a hint about where we’re going?”
“Sure,” Perry said. “Here’s your hint. There will be lots of choices.”
Grace had meticulously researched London restaurants on the plane ride over. Not that she anticipated getting to indulge much during her stay, but one could hope. She named a couple in case her tastes intersected with Perry’s.
“Let me guess,” Perry said. “You read those off the top five from Food & Wine. Am I right?” She shook her head. “You wanted touristy, that’s what you’re getting.” She pointed up ahead. “There’s our destination.”
Grace looked up and spotted a large structure suspended from the street with the words Camden Lock in bright yellow. She glanced to her left at the large brick building where a surge of people were climbing stairs. “The market?”
“The very one.” Perry pointed at the stairs. “You ready?”
“Absolutely.” Grace took the lead and headed up the stairs. London markets were on her list as a close second to historical sites and Michelin-starred restaurants, and Camden was on everyone’s short list. “Aren’t there like sixty food stalls here? That’s state fair level foodie. I’m ravenous.” When Perry didn’t reply, she looked back to find she’d stopped and was staring at her with a curious expression. “What?”
“Nothing. I guess a part of me thought you might be disappointed we weren’t going to a fancy place.”
Grace reached back and held out her hand. “You don’t know me very well then. Some of the most successful restauranteurs started out in food halls. They are the training ground of the food elite. Food stalls are my kryptonite.”
