London Royal

by Nana Malone

  “I can't, love. What's that old black and white sitcom? ‘You’ve got some 'splainin to do.’”

  “Tamsin, my head feels like I've swallowed an entire herd of elephants whole and they're running around playing polo in my skull.” I rubbed my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Tastes like it too.”

  Tamsin just laughed. “That, my dear, is your first London hangover. It's to be celebrated. C'mon. Get up. I made breakfast. You’ll feel better once you eat and have a Guinness.”

  I peeked out from under the pillow and duvet. “Guinness? You really think it's a good idea for me to drink again?”

  “Well, I'm not asking you to get wasted again. You're a lightweight. I mean, you only had what, the two shots of sake?”

  “Don’t forget the stupid absinthe. I switched to water after that.”

  Tamsin's brow furrowed. “Yeah. Lightweight.”

  “God, what are you? Part Irish?” I grumbled.

  “Now that you mention it, my mum is half Irish. Now get up. I know you want to sleep all day. But you told me yesterday you have work to do. Besides, I'm dying to hear about you and that smoking guy you were talking to at the bar. Sophie already filled me in. I can’t believe I missed such a great party.”

  Eventually, I sat up and took the mug from Tamsin. I took a tentative sip. The bitter, fizzy liquid burned my tongue and throat, but the moment it hit my stomach, the rumbling and nausea quieted. I stared into the mug, surprised.

  Tamsin just smirked. “Told you so. See, not all that bad.”

  “I can’t believe that actually worked.”

  After dragging herself out of bed and a quick round in the bathroom with my toothbrush and my mouthwash, I felt marginally better. Not to mention, I was starving. When I padded into the kitchen, the duvet clutched around me and my bunny slippers shuffling, I parked herself on one of the stools at the island. Tamsin placed a heaping plate of fried eggs, and baked beans with toast in front of me. “Damn, Tams, you didn’t have to make so much food. And you didn’t have to cook for me.”

  “Well, I wanted to celebrate your first hangover morning. And I remembered your mushroom allergy. And don’t get used to this. It's about the only thing I can cook.”

  “Thank you for remembering. And don't worry. I can handle cooking.”

  Tamsin grinned. “I remember from school. If it hadn’t been for you, I might have starved in Uni.”

  I tucked in to the feast and nearly moaned with pleasure as I chewed my sausage. “Tams, this is exactly what I needed.”

  “Glad to hear it. Now spill. I want all the details.”

  I had already made up my mind to keep things with Lex on the down low. At least for now. It was probably nothing anyway. Just a one night kismet kind of thing. And to be frank, I was so not ready for it to be anything anyway. “Not much to tell. I'd had too much to drink.” I pointed at my head with my fork. “Hung out on the rooftop for a bit. The guy at the bar was actually Xander Chase. He was there to photograph the party.”

  Tamsin scowled. “Xander Chase was there in person? And I missed it to stay home and plan for the new Calice product? Coffee-flavored Vodka, yuck. Please tell me there was snogging.”

  Oh God. “What? Between me and Xander? No!” I laughed.

  “Bit of a shame though. From the pictures I’ve seen of him, he’s well fit.”

  “There is that word again. I get the feeling I'm taking it in the wrong context.”

  Tamsin frowned. “What? Fit?”

  “Yes. What the hell does it mean? Jasper told me I looked fit yesterday. I of course responded with thanks, I’ve been working out. And he just laughed at me like I was crazy.”

  Tamsin laughed, causing her dimples to appear. “It means you're hot.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well. Then of course Jasper thought I was nuts. He’s a hell of a DJ, by the way.”

  Tamsin giggled. “And apparently that crush of his is the real deal. Sophie says he talks about you all the time.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Oh, I think he’s like that with all the girls. It has nothing to do with me, I promise you.”

  “Jasper is shameless and a bit of a tramp. But he's lovely outside of all his ridiculous flirting.”

  “I'll take your word for it.” Then as subtly as I could, I added, “So what do you know about Alexi and Nick? They seem nice enough. And as you put it, they’re both well fit.” Yeah, real smooth.

  “Dunno. I met Lex when you did. All I know is they’re part of the R&B set.”

  I was going to have to play catch up on the British slang, otherwise I'd never be able to understand my friends. “R&B?”

  “Well depending on who you talk to, it’s either the rich and beautiful set or the rich and bratty set.”

  I raised my eyebrows. I’d gotten the feel of wealth around him, but I didn’t know it was a thing. “Come to mention it, last night was kind of a big baller night. It was like something out of Nicole Ritchie’s diary or something.”

  “Welcome to rolling with Sophie.” Tamsin laughed. “I don’t go out too much with her friends, but every time we do, a celebrity sighting is nearly guaranteed. There are no lines, the men are beautiful, and the access is insane. I like to keep things a little more grounded though.”

  So, Tamsin wouldn’t be able to help me with the scoop. Not like I needed the inside track to know Alexi wasn’t interested in me really.

  I shook my head and focused on my friend. “Enough about last night. How is Mr. Irishman doing?”

  Tamsin’s smile widened. “I get to see Liam in a couple of weeks. So far, so good. We’re just starting this long distance thing. In fact, this visit will be our test run to see if it works. Right now, we’re in the hazy long-distance lust fog. You know when you have Skype sex all the time and you’re in love.”

  I laughed. “No, I don’t know about that, but I imagine I’ll live every breathtaking moment with you…except for the Skype sex of course, because that would make for really awkward flatmate dinners later.”

  “So what's on the agenda today?” Tams asked as she started to clear her dishes.

  “I want to get started on my photo assignment and explore the city a little. Want to come with and be my London guide?”

  Tamsin looked out the window and studied the gloomy sky. “Sorry, love, I actually have to go into work today. I have a meeting with a client later this afternoon, which means I get to order coffee then stand around with my thumb up my arse as my boss takes credit for my work.”

  “Ooh, sorry. I’ll try to have some fun for you too.” I had an assignment to ace.

  Chapter 15

  Abbie…

  I fiddled with my camera as I rode the tube. The energy on the train vibrated and shifted around me. The dark gray clouds of morning had shifted and given way to lighter gray ones, but there was no hint of sunshine to be seen. It was official—my good weather run had come to an end.

  The Brixton Market was exactly what I was looking for. Located in South London, it was home to immigrants of all over the world but primarily Jamaicans and Haitians. As I passed fruit and vegetable stands, I took occasional shots for my portfolio, focusing on the rich colors and the lively, animated faces of the people I passed. Navigating through the market, I finally paused when I heard the sounds of Jamaican dancehall.

  Following the thumping drum and bass tunes, I tugged the earphones out of my ears and smiled at the familiar Sean Paul song. Immediately, my mind went to the party last night. I flushed at the memory of Lex’s hands on my ass, urging my body to fit against him as he stroked my tongue with his.

  I had never been so reckless or stupid in my life. Ever. I didn’t make out with random strangers. No matter how beautiful they were. All the dating magazines and articles I'd poured over with my friends since I was old enough to be interested in boys said to play it cool. Act unavailable.

  Of course, then, there were the Cosmo articles that taught women to take charge and go after
what they wanted and how to seduce a man. I chuffed as I wove through the crowd. I was not the seduction type. I was the one who thought everything through. I was the cautious one.

  Until Lex.

  I couldn’t help a little snort. It sounded like such a cheesy line. Except he hadn’t delivered it like one. Though, I had a good idea of the kind of adventure he wanted to lead me on. The way his lips had slid over mine expertly, coaxing me into compliance. That was a man who had experience with a lot of women. Certainly more than his fair share. Like he made kissing a personal pastime.

  Tamsin said he was part of the R&B crowd, and there was probably no shortage of women ready and willing to be with him. Heat flooded my cheeks, and the irrational flare of jealousy irritated me. Not to mention he was rich and probably had the feeling of entitlement to go with it. If something happened with them and it went bad, it would probably get ugly for me.

  I finally found the source of the music and grinned. A group of young kids had taken over a corner of the market with an impromptu dance battle.

  Grinning, I snapped several photographs. One by one, the kids came over after krumping their way to their friends and checked out the images I captured. With every click, I’d stopped time on a particular emotion or feeling. Their live energy. How they moved. Their feeling. How alive they were. I’d born witness to it all.

  As the kids grinned and attempted to tug me into the dance battle circle, I laughed and shook my head. There was no way I was going to krump. But my new friends and fans didn’t want to take no for an answer. They dragged me in and immediately surrounded me. I closed my eyes the let the sounds of Sean Paul and the voices fuel my movement as I enjoyed my moment in the middle of the dance circle.

  With the music blaring, my body moving, the smell of fried plantains in the distance, and the sounds of laughter coming from my new friends, I knew I'd made the right decision. No matter how scary, no matter how stupid it seemed. No matter what everyone said, I'd made the right choice in leaving. My family didn’t know or understand me. Evan certainly didn’t understand me. All I had to do was let go and open herself to every new experience here.

  The act of letting go was the hardest thing I'd have to do. My family was my family. I couldn’t change who they were, and the sooner I accepted that, the happier I would be. But I could let go of Evan. There was no returning from where they were. I didn’t ever want to go back.

  With the distance, I could clearly see how their relationship looked. On the outside, they were perfect. But on the inside I’d completely vanished. I could be strong and take charge and have fun.

  The music eventually transitioned to something else, and the kids howled and clapped for me. I waved goodbye to my new friends and took the slips of paper they handed me with their phone numbers so I could text them some pictures. I headed back out of the market, feeling lighter than I had been in days.

  I headed for a part of town called Music Row. I'd heard that in the seventies it had been home to several music studios for young rhythm and blues singers trying to make it. Sort of Brixton's answer to Motown Records. My feet splashed in leftover puddles from the overnight rain.

  Between two buildings in a not-quite-alleyway, I caught sight of a section of puddles that looked like they formed a perfect circle. In the center of them lay a piece of chain and pipe. Getting down on my haunches I snapped away, lost in my camera and images for several minutes. The light from one of the buildings glinted in the broken glass window of another, and I lost several more minutes going for shots that were integral to my assignment.

  Looking at my map, I rounded a corner, searching for the most famous studio of all. Brixton Gold. If I could get one good shot of it against the graying clouds, with maybe some people standing in front, I would have a good start for the assignment and could head back before the clouds opened up as they threatened to do.

  “You know, I’m starting to think you're following me.”

  I whirled around, heart pounding. Leaning against one of the doors next to a youth center and record store stood Lex. With his dark jeans, tan sweater, and light gray pea coat, he looked distinctly out of place. If I'd shot a photo of him that moment, I would certainly have a juxtaposition shot. Or maybe I could use it to show how Brixton was becoming the new Harlem. With white urbanites moving in by the droves, taking advantage of the cheap rent and revitalization.

  Or, I could just say hi. “Are you sure you’re not the one following me?”

  He shrugged. “I was here first. I thought that was you as you crossed the street. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

  I held up my camera. “A girl's gotta eat.”

  “I would hate to see you starve.”

  Unable to help the sudden jubilant feeling, I giggled. “Well, it could still happen if I don't get the shots I need for this assignment.”

  “School. Right. You did mention that last night. I was a bit preoccupied to ask you more about it.”

  I flushed and immediately looked down at my camera. You will not think about the way his lips feel. You will not think about the way his hands feel. You will not think about how long it’s been since you had a proper, honest to God, sheet clawing orgasm. “You probably know more about my school than I do, since your brother’s my professor. We had a nice chat at your party.”

  Lex’s smile faltered, and his lips thinned for a moment before he muttered, “London is entirely too small a world. He didn’t mention you two had spoken.”

  I shrugged. Maybe because he had been an ass. “Nothing to mention, really. Sort of inconsequential.” Was I supposed to tell him that his brother told me to stay away from him? “Are you two close?”

  Lex’s gaze slid away from mine. “Sometimes a little too close for comfort.” When his gray eyes met mine again, they were stormy.

  My heartbeat slowed, each beat echoing between my ears. In the blink of an eye, I made my decision. “He said I should stay away from you.”

  His eyes went from a dark gray to cold, flinty silver. “What did you say in return?”

  I shrugged. “That I barely knew you.”

  His loose shoulders and hands in his pockets would have had most people believing he was completely at ease, but I studied enough faces to know better. He was livid. Surreptitiously, I inched backward looking to put some physical distance between them.

  Alexi’s voice was low and rough. “He say anything else?”

  Oh no, I’d already stepped in it, there was no way I was going to roll around in it too. “No.” I took another step back.

  He studied me closely, his eyes roving over every inch of my face. Then as if sensing my unease, he stepped back. When he spoke again, his voice had lost its edge and was softer, coaxing, and seductive. “Do you plan on staying away from me?”

  A small shiver stole through me as I debated the urge to flee. Do not run. Not every man is Evan. Besides, they were on a crowded street. “A little difficult, since you’re stalking me.”

  His grin was quick to surface, and I wondered how I hadn’t seen the resemblance to Xander right away. “I’m stalking you. You wondered in to my hood.”

  I laughed as I took in the urban landscape of graffiti-sprayed walls, chip shops, and Ladbrokes gambling spots. “Right. Your hood.”

  Lex cocked his head as he continued to smile at me. “You’re not buying it?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. You’re too fancy-pants posh. It’s not even like you’ve got this rocker vibe to you so you can pull it off. You sort of stick out here.”

  He’d joined me in laughter. “Okay, so the sweater and pea coat are ruining the image. But, I assure you, I belong down here.” He inclined his head toward the youth center. “I was kicking it with a few friends today.”

  “You were volunteering?” I’d assumed he spent his days sleeping till three, only to wake up and figure out where he was going that night. I’d never pictured him as the volunteering type. Not exactly a party boy. My
mind conjured an image of him going through rural Africa digging wells. That image juxtaposed with one of him in a beautiful tuxedo wooing donors for his latest cause. The image of dashing philanthropist worked better.

  His grin faded a bit. “Don’t let the swank parties fool you. I volunteer. I even have a job.”

  Shit. Had I insulted him? Immediately, images of him in a tux talking about the latest cause in the heart of Africa vanished and were replaced with images of some swank start-up, doing some cool music software or something. “Was that party swank?” I shrugged. “I couldn’t tell by the chocolate fountain and chandeliers.”

  He tsked. “Uh oh. Looks like someone’s made a few assumptions about me.” He added a teasing smile and wag of the finger to soften the words.

  “Sorry. I guess I did. I can’t really see you posting up here at the local Jamaican restaurant for rice and peas.”

  He sniffed. “I love Jamaican food. Rice and peas happen to be a favorite of mine.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  “So, you up for some company on your little jaunt?” He inclined his head.

  He was so heartbreakingly handsome that I could only stare for a minute. Was he actually asking if he could tag along? With me?

  My brain made a valiant effort at forming words. “Uhm, yeah. Ok.” That had to count for a full sentence, right?

  His voice was smooth as he asked, “So, did you have fun last night?”

  “Yeah, I did. I was paying for it a little this morning. But Tamsin gave me me hangover cure, and I started to feel a lot better. Next time, I won’t mix 'n' match my liquor like that.”

  He nodded sagely. “What did she use for the hangover cure? Whiskey?”

  “No. Guinness and massive English fry up.”

  “Just as effective, I suppose.”

  He halted my movement by placing a hand on my elbow and I jumped. Would I ever find a way to get used to casual touches? Especially from him?