Meet Me in London

by Georgia Toffolo

  This was the best something nice and Lily’s smile was infectious. Victoria sat up and put the laptop on the bed, her heart happy for now. “Oh, yes! That makes me so happy. Especially for Malie. I always feel sad for her on her birthday, with her brother gone and things between her and her parents being so difficult, it’s nice if we make a special effort for her.”

  When Malie’s brother’s cancer became so far gone that he couldn’t surf, her parents closed their surf school. Their idea being that if Koa couldn’t surf then none of them could.

  But surfing was Malie’s passion and therapy so she’d started to sneak out and do it behind their backs. As soon as she could escape Devon she’d borrowed some money and gone traveling, ending up in Hawaii working at her godfather Kailani’s surf school. Feeling as if they had now all but lost a second child, her parents were heartbroken by Malie’s actions and things had become difficult between them all.

  Lily shook her head. “I never did understand why they’re so upset with her, just because she’s following her passion. I mean, who wouldn’t want their kids to be who they want to be and do what they want to do?”

  Like Oliver. Who had never been given a chance to decide who he was or what he wanted and instead had been pushed into the family firm. And, just like that, Victoria’s thoughts tumbled back to him. And the kiss.

  Hot damn. That kiss made her ache for him. Her breasts felt heavy and she could almost taste him again.

  “Ahem.” Lily’s voice came from the laptop.

  “Oh?” Victoria’s cheeks burned as she tried to push those thoughts back into that box. “Sorry. Yes. Oops. Listen, on Thursday don’t mention this thing with Ollie, please. No one’s meant to know about it until...V-day.”

  “My lips are still sealed.” Lily did a zipping motion with her thumb and forefinger then yawned. “I’ve got to finish clearing up now, V. It’s getting late. Sweet dreams.”

  “You too.” Taking a huge, deep breath Victoria flopped back onto the pillow. Sure, she was going to dream tonight. But she wasn’t sure how sweet they were going to be. Not with the memory of Oliver Russell’s hot and sexy kiss still on her lips.

  * * *

  She didn’t hear from Oliver the next day, or the next, so she tried to forget the kiss by burying herself in work. In the hours between her shifts downstairs, and with the designs all finished on paper, she’d been able to cut the beautiful silk fabric and tack it into her collection statement piece: the enchanted wedding dress.

  The silk was a pleasure to work with; it draped like a dream. There were a few alterations she wanted to make to the neckline and the bodice but it was shaping up exactly the way she’d imagined it. She’d also found time to finish making paper patterns for four more bridesmaid dress styles, all with little details that cohered the collection together, but different enough for women with individual personalities and body shapes.

  With the five pieces she’d worked on over the weekend and the other ten dresses she’d already finished, her collection was complete. Or at least, complete enough for her to give her clients choices. Now all she needed was to have them photographed and put up on her website. Let the orders commence!

  She stood back, watching in awe as the light caught the silk and made it shimmer. Her heart filled. This was what she was meant to be doing with her life and she was so grateful everyone had still encouraged her to chase her dreams after the accident. She needed to thank Oliver for such a wonderful gift of silk...even though it had been a bribe of sorts. A peace offering, he’d said.

  But...the kiss. She didn’t think she could face him again.

  What if she’d read the whole thing wrong?

  Heat rushed through her until she felt she was probably shimmering as much as the damned dress. It seemed that no matter what she did, she just could not forget the kiss or the way he made her feel.

  It was now Monday afternoon and the silence had dragged on to the point that she just had to touch base to find out where they stood.

  She flicked him a text: Hey, just wondering how your dad’s getting on?

  After an hour where she’d checked and double-checked her phone a million times he came back with: V, sorry. Been a mad weekend. I’m here at the hospital with him. He says hi. Mum sends her love.

  Which didn’t tell her anything about how Eric was responding to the treatment. She didn’t want to intrude and ask directly so just replied: Say hi from me.

  Another pause before: They’re waving. Look, we need to talk.

  I know. When? she texted back.

  This was it then. His kiss-off. That was why he’d been silent all weekend. He was having as many doubts as she was.

  He came straight back with: Are you free now? Visiting’s just finishing and I have a couple of hours before a meeting.

  His text made her suddenly embarrassed. How self-absorbed was she to think he’d been avoiding her or even thinking about her at all when his father was so sick? Oliver was trying to be all things to all people. He was at the hospital, he was trying to work and, now, wanting to meet her. After that kiss they definitely needed to talk and the most decent thing she could do was listen.

  She looked down at the pajamas she hadn’t even changed out of because she’d been so consumed by her work. Hmmm. She needed to get clean too. As she stood she glanced outside. A weak November sun was trying to peek through a cloud. She desperately needed some fresh air and even Zoe had told her she was getting too pale. Plus, it would be better seeing him outdoors where there was lots of space and no opportunity for up close and personal. She sent him a quick: Fancy a walk?

  He answered, Sure. Tell me where and when.

  Her heart rate picked up at the thought of seeing him and she didn’t know if it was excitement or embarrassment or both.

  Meet me at the entrance to the Chelsea Physic Garden on Swan Walk in 30 minutes.

  Oliver replied: Where? Don’t worry, I’ll find it. O x.

  And a kiss!

  What did that mean?

  Twenty-nine minutes later she was showered, dressed and waiting outside the garden entrance. When Oliver strolled up exactly on time her heart gave its now automatic little Oliver-leap. Like an over-boisterous puppy jumping against her rib cage.

  His hands were stuffed deep inside a dark-blue overcoat, his gray-and-white-striped scarf tied round his neck. Even though his coat hid his body she remembered it all too well from the other night. The heat in it. The feel of it. Nervous energy welled up inside her at the memory.

  As he spoke his breath plumed out like smoke. But damn, it was cold. He grinned as he looked at the garden entrance sign. “You are full of surprises, Victoria. I had no idea this place existed.”

  He leaned over and brushed her cheek with his lips. She tried not to read anything into it. It was the kind of thing anyone did with a friend. But the immediate rush of need through her body made her jittery. She wanted to sink her hands into his hair and pull him close. Taste him again.

  Consciously dampening down her physical response to him she smiled and stepped away to push open the wrought iron gate, flashed her season ticket to the staff member and walked down the bush-lined pea-gravel path. Frost kissed the tips of the bushes, and lights twinkled in the tree branches giving it a magical, festive feel.

  “It’s my little secret. A bit of sanity from the city, tucked away here. It’s so peaceful, you’d never think you’re in the middle of one of the most vibrant cities in the world. Most people walk past and don’t even know it exists, but I try to come here once a month and follow the plants and trees through the seasons. The cherry blossom trees in the spring literally bring a smile to your face.”

  When she turned, she realized he was looking at her and still grinning. “I can tell.”

  “Oh, ignore me, I get a buzz from all the colors.”

  “It’s enchanting.”

 
For some reason she didn’t think he meant just the idea of the blossom. After two days of not seeing him she thought she’d got a better hold over her attraction to him, but no. No. His sexy smile still made her limbs feel like liquid and she was trembling like an idiot, even though she knew why they were here—to end it.

  End something they hadn’t even started. “You just missed autumn. Oh, wow, that was a riot of russets and crimsons, like an amazing red carpet—you know, like at the BAFTAs or something.”

  “I do know, yes.”

  “Of course you do, because that’s the kind of thing you do in your life: awards and dinners and helicopters.”

  “And walks in the park when I get a chance. Stop trying to point out how different our lives are and look at the similarities. We both live in London. We’re both trying to work out what we want, who we are. Not so different after all.” He shushed her rebuttal with a shake of the head. “Tell me more about the leaves.”

  “Red stretching as far as you can see. So beautiful I almost didn’t want to stand on them, but then I’d have missed that wonderful crunch that reminds you of being five years old and running through mounds of leaves.”

  “And then collecting them all up in your arms and throwing them in the air.” He stopped, a puzzled expression on his face. “Why did we do that?”

  “I don’t know.” Victoria laughed. “It’s just what you do when you’re a child, right? You don’t even think about it, you just do it. You eat ice cream without worrying if it’s going to make you fat. You eat the uncooked cookie dough without caring if it’ll make you sick.”

  “When did we lose that innocence and pure joy of just being? Now we have to work things out. Be sensible and responsible. Have all the answers.” He looked at the frosty ground and she just knew how heavily everything was weighing on his shoulders. After a moment he raised his eyes and looked at her. “Damn. Now I want to crunch and there are no leaves. Or ice cream. Where’s the uncooked cookie dough when you need it?”

  “I’ll make some one day and then we can indulge our inner children.” She laughed, wishing she could really ease his troubles somehow. “One of my teachers at college was always talking about using nature as inspiration for our designs. So, I try to look at the plants from that kind of angle too.” She pointed to a huge gnarly old tree a few feet away and framed it in a square with her hands. “The even sweep of the majestic tree trunk...look. Or the delicate nod of snowdrops in the breeze, like tiny pearls. In the summer the clash of blooming bright reds and dazzling oranges is jarring but also beautiful.”

  “I cannot believe you look at the world like that. It’s so alien to me.”

  “And your world is alien to me.”

  He nodded, his expression suddenly flat. “I know. You keep saying that.”

  “It’s true.” She couldn’t allow herself to think differently. That she might get used to his world, or want to spend more time in it than she should.

  The trees absorbed the hum of traffic until it was discernible but distant. No one else had been brave enough to venture into the gardens at dusk, so it felt as if they were the only two people in the whole world. But there was a gulf between them and in the middle of it loomed that kiss.

  She picked up the pace and pointed to a flower bed on their right. “Try it. Look at that bed there, what do you see?”

  He stopped and frowned as he peered at the trees and the bushes. There wasn’t a lot of winter color but the differing heights of the plants, the miscellaneous leaf shapes and different hues of green crusted in jewel-white frost were still beautiful. “Spiky things, feathery things, some droopy things that don’t look very happy to be there.”

  “Because it’s winter and they don’t like the cold. Like me.” She stuck her hands deep into her coat pockets and started to walk again. Yes, she knew she was distracting him from the real reason they were here—to finish it. But she just wanted to grasp another five minutes with him before those words were said and the only time she’d see him again might be if they bumped into each other on the street or in his store. Her heart tightened at that thought. She tried to think of something positive to talk about.

  “They also have the best Christmas market here in the gardens, but I double-checked the dates and they don’t clash with our”—her cheeks burned at that faux pas—“I mean, your opening day.”

  And with that she’d brought their reality tumbling back into full focus. He took the lead. “Look, Victoria. About—”

  “I know.” This was it, then. She didn’t want to hear him say the words so she just jumped in. “It’s fine, it was a stupid thing to do. I agree, we should stop it all now. I just hope they won’t be too disappointed. Tell them we decided it wasn’t going to work?”

  His eyes grew wide and he shook his head. “You’re joking? Stop it? No way. You’re the only thing my dad’s talked about the whole weekend. Meeting you gave him a real boost. He’s actually looking forward to something good for the first time since his diagnosis. He’s got hope. You gave him that.”

  Oh. That wasn’t what she’d been expecting. “But—didn’t they think it strange I didn’t surface all weekend? Weren’t they expecting me to be around, if we’re such a loved-up couple?”

  “Not at all. They know we have busy lives and don’t expect us to be joined at the hip. I told them you were working in the bar all hours and thought it best not to visit as the treatment might be grueling for him. He agreed, saying he didn’t want you to see him at his worst. They’ve decided to stay in town until the opening, so there’ll be plenty of time for them to see you.”

  Double oh. How could she spend more time with Oliver and not kiss him? It was going to be pure torture. But how could she take a sick man’s hope away too? She had to keep this pretense up a little longer, especially if Mr. and Mrs. Russell were going to be around until the first. “How is he doing?”

  “He’s had a pretty rough couple of days, to be honest, but the doctors said the first few days are the worst. They won’t know how well he’s responding for a couple of months.” Oliver looked out at the feathery and spiky things and smiled grimly. “He’d love it here, I might bring him when he feels up to it.”

  “That would be lovely, but make sure to wrap him up warm.” She started walking again but Oliver touched her arm, steered her to a park bench and made her sit down. “There is one thing, though.”

  “Oh? What?” Was he going to say it was all a mistake, or that he’d enjoyed the kiss as much as she had?

  “I have something for you.” He dipped into the inside top pocket of his coat and pulled out a small turquoise velvet box.

  Was this...? Panic sent her gut spiraling.

  No. Please, no. This was far too much.

  “It was my grandmother’s,” Oliver explained, pride lacing his voice. “My father’s mother. My grandfather had it made for her. They’ve been keeping it for you. Well, for my...” He swallowed. “Wife. Mum insisted I give it to you. Offer it to you at least.”

  He flipped open the lid to reveal an exquisite solitaire diamond. Huge. In a six-prong setting and sitting on a band of what looked like platinum. Or white gold. He held it out to her. “I said you might not like it. That we’d probably buy you a new one. That you’d like to choose something for yourself. I tried to fob her off but—”

  “It’s beautiful.” She ran her fingers over it and realized how shaky she was. This was a dream of a ring, glinting in the fading light. The most beautiful thing she’d ever seen and made for a woman who was clearly adored. A lump settled in her throat. This had been forged out of a deep love between two people. “Oliver, I can’t take it. Not even temporarily. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “I thought as much. It’s OK, don’t worry.” He closed the box. “I did try to put her off, believe me, but she said I had to offer. She wants you to love it.”

  “I do love it, but I can’t wear
it. It’s too much.”

  “I’ll tell her.”

  But break Stella’s heart? Right now, in the middle of Eric’s treatment? God, this was just awful. She was stuck in the middle of this big fat lie. Her own heart hurting too.

  What harm would it do just to appease them a little while longer? It wouldn’t cost Victoria anything. Better to make two people happy in the short term, right? Just until Eric was out of hospital or until Oliver could break it all gently to them after opening day.

  “No. It’s OK.” Victoria put her left hand out. “I’ll wear it. Until we tell them we’re over.”

  “She’ll be thrilled.” He took the ring from the box then thought for a moment. “If she asks, tell her I did this, OK?” He got on one knee and said, in a hushed voice that she had to strain to hear, “Victoria Scott, will you marry me?”

  “At least this time you know my name.” She couldn’t help but smile. He looked ridiculous. The whole thing was ridiculous. “OK, then. Yes. For the next what? Ten days? Now stand up, before your knees freeze to the ground.”

  But he solemnly slid the ring on her finger. As he did so she risked a glance at his face, got caught up in the heat of his gaze. He was the most handsome man she’d ever known and he was down on one knee in her favorite park. Her heart jolted. To anyone watching they’d see a beautiful man proposing to a pale, anxious-looking woman. Expecting them to kiss any moment. And she wanted to. Ached to. Longed to slide into his arms and never leave. But then what?

  Just a whole lot more complication and confusion and blurring of edges.

  “Does it fit?” he asked with what looked like genuine concern.

  “It’s a little tight, but it’s fine. Your grandma must have had tiny hands.” She couldn’t stop looking at him as he stood and stretched out his back. It was time to say it. “Look, Ollie, about the kiss—”

  “Ah. Inspired.” He sat next to her on the bench and winked. “Convinced them, right? Worked like a dream. Great move.”

  “Oh.” Something drooped inside her. Lily had said Victoria would know if it was real. She’d thought it had been. Perhaps she’d convinced herself as much as they’d convinced his parents, but the kiss had meant nothing to him. Sure, he’d been turned on, she’d felt that. But as for anything deeper? Clearly not. She’d stepped over the emotional line but he’d just played his role and kept it physical.