Chapter 14
Alexander
Alexander
Stephanie texts asking if I have time to talk.
I’m in the kitchen preparing a protein shake before bed.
I wanna get to bed early tonight. A whole day of meetings with the department heads has drained me, and I’d rather be focused on my US branch—and finally telling the team I’m planning on bringing them to London.
I shake my dinner thoroughly and videocall her. To my surprise, she answers immediately, smiling at the camera in minimal clothing.
“Am I interrupting?” I asked, taken aback.
“No, I’m just doing yoga.” She backs up, showing her private home gym. She looks good in her tight leggings and an equally form-fitting top. “What about you? No workout today?”
“Tomorrow.” I keep shaking until the powder dissolves. “So? Tell me.”
“London’s really nice. I believe her. She even let me scroll through her phone. I skimmed her chats with her best friend—there were photos of that Dominic guy. She definitely never had anything with Marc.”
“I’m glad. Now you can fly off on your honeymoon tomorrow without worries.” I set the shaker down so the foam settles and lean against the counter, watching her exercise.
"Are you considering taking up yoga?" she asks.
“No.” Absolutely not. I can’t help smiling. Women might look good doing all those poses, but I’ll stick to jogging and weights.
“Any news from your housekeeper?”
“No.”
“So talkative tonight. Am I distracting you?”
“Just thinking.” I just can't get the image of London out of my head. "What kind of person do you think she is?"
“London?”
I nod.
“I think she’d defend her friends to death. But underneath, a genuinely good person. I’m even thinking of setting her up with a friend of mine.”
“Why? Is she looking?”
That bothers me. But what bothers me even more is this feeling that I don't want London to date someone.
“I asked if she was into you. She said no. Then she described her type. You’re the exact opposite.”
“Oh?”
That’s even worse.
“Blond. Glasses. Dad bod. Her words.” Stephanie bends forward, letting out a brief groan. Then she tosses her blonde hair back while I pick up my shaker, open it, and drink almost all fourteen ounces in one gulp.
“That’s her dream man?”
“Yep. I’m thinking of Thomas, what do you think? You’ve met him, right?”
“That guy? Isn’t he over forty?”
“Forty-one. Wealthy, and has been single forever. I think they’d be a great match.”
“He sits behind a desk all day. London’s a fitness nut. I don’t see it.”
“I’ll still give her his number. I’m good at matchmaking. I know what men want." She kneels in front of the camera and winks at me.
“Or maybe she was just being polite,” I mutter. “I am her boss. And you’re my best friend.”
“Hmm. Maybe.” She sighs, fanning herself. “Whew, I’m hot. I’m going for a swim.”
“You do that. I’ll email the team to tell them I wanna talk later. Maybe I'll even call them instead, so I can get it over with.”
“Hey, London is a gorgeous city. I mean… Didn’t you miss me at all?”
“Of course I missed you and Marc. But the city itself… not so much. Once you’ve lived in New York, London seems like… a village.”
“London has plenty to offer.”
“Yes, she does…” I murmur.
“A beautiful skyline, good restaurants, the royals. Don’t forget those.”
Right. The city. And yet the only image in my head is her—with flowers in her hair.
“True.”
“How about lunch tomorrow? Marc will still be at the company finalizing details before we fly out, but I’ll have some time.”
“That’s pretty short notice.”
“Hey, I want to see you once more before I’m gone for two weeks.”
“I only have half an hour at most,” I say. I actually wanted to eat with London on the roof again, but I can’t leave Stephanie hanging.
“I’ll take it.”
“Okay, are you coming to the office?”
“Yes, I’ll bring something, and we can eat there.”
“Perfect. See you tomorrow.”
“You want to hang up already?”
“Yeah, weren’t you going for a swim?”
“Yeah, I was… um, so until tomorrow. One works?”
“Sure, that works.”
“Good. See you tomorrow.”
I nod to her and hang up. It’s best if I talk to the team right now. The sooner everyone knows, the longer they’ll have to think it over.
The next morning, I drive to the office again. I park, turn off the engine, and check the messages on my phone again.
So far, only one person from the team has said no.
His wife and kids insist on staying in New York.
We still need to discuss the severance package, but of course I’ll pay him generously.
I hope the rest will follow me to London.
I need the team on-site—preferably all of them.
So, I write back: “Relocation costs will be covered. Housing will also be fully reimbursed. Your children’s schooling will be taken care of.
Maybe it could be a new beginning?” I completely understand not wanting to uproot their whole life.
Even I found it hard to return to London, even though I was born here and was only in New York for five years.
Stephanie has sent me a series of pictures. I just skim through them quickly. Her in yoga clothes. Her in a bikini. Her cooking dinner. Looks like she’s missed me. Back in New York, she didn’t send that many pictures. She also writes: #perfectwify.
Yes, she is. I text her back a smiley face.
I grab my things and head inside. There’s still a lot of work waiting for me today, but I’m really looking forward to seeing London again.
My father is to blame. He planted this idea in my head, and now I can’t stop thinking about asking her out.
When I get upstairs, London is already at her desk. She yawns and peers sleepily into her coffee cup.
“Rough night?” I ask, amused. London jumps—she didn’t see me coming in. Her cheeks immediately flush. Cute.
“Good morning. Yeah. I couldn’t really sleep. But coffee should fix it.”
“Still sore from boxing?”
“A little.” She rubs her neck.
Should I offer to give her a massage? No, that would be too much. Or would it?
“If I call downstairs, you’ll get an appointment right away.”
“That wouldn’t be fair,” she says, which makes me smile.
“I could…” No. I shouldn’t offer that. “Well, we could hire someone new. Seems like there’s a demand.”
“Hmm, I like that. Should I make a job posting?”
“Yes. Starting immediately. You can book an appointment right away or have a trial massage. During working hours, of course.”
Yep, that’s better than offering to do it myself.
“Well, I’m all for that,” she says brightly. “I’ll take care of it right away.” Seeing her smile feels good.
“Excellent.” I’m about to leave but turn back: “Oh, by the way, Stephanie’s coming at one. I’ll have lunch with her in my office.”
“Got it. For an hour?”
“Thirty minutes should be enough.”
She looks at her screen. “Your next appointment isn’t until 2:30. Technically, she could stay for ninety minutes.”
“What happened to the 2 PM appointment?”
“Called in sick. Sports injury. Twisted his ankle playing tennis, but he wants to be back Monday.”
“I see.” I nod gratefully and turn to leave. But this time, she stops me.
“Has your cleaning lady gotten in touch?”
“No. Unfortunately not yet. I’ve called her twice—nothing. All the ads she had online for more work have disappeared. I’m afraid she’s not coming back.”
“I might know someone. She’s reliable and dedicated,” she says.
“If you recommend her, gladly. Just one thing,” I say, looking serious enough that London briefly looks intimidated. “She shouldn’t be impulsive. I prefer calm people around me. Unless it’s in sports.”
“She’s the definition of calm.”
“Perfect. If my housekeeper doesn’t show up Saturday, feel free to send your friend to me.”
“Can I get your address?”
“I’ll text it to you.”
“And, um, what time?”
“Around eleven? She usually comes at ten, so an extra hour should be enough.”
London nods and goes back to her computer.
“I’ll take care of everything.”
“Including coffee?”
She smiles at that. That’s better. No more death glares at me.
“I’ll bring it in a minute. I turned on the machine earlier but you’re twenty minutes early.”
“Sounds good, Miss Waverley.”
“Always a pleasure, Mr. Blackthorn,” she jokes back.
We both smile. But now I really leave and head into my office. A lot of work is waiting today.
At exactly 1:00, there’s a knock at the door. I’d been lost in thought and forgot Stephanie was coming. She just walks in before I can even respond.
“Hey. Right on time,” I say, standing up. In the background, I see London, who must have walked her up.
“I’ll take my break now,” I hear her say.
“Enjoy,” I reply, then turn to Stephanie, who’s armed with two large paper bags.
“Hey,” she greets me. We hug warmly while London closes the door.
“Did you get here okay?”
“Yes. Wow, your office looks amazing. Not bad at all.” She sets down the two bags and walks over to the windows. “This is the way to work. Such a wonderful view. You can even see Big Ben from here.”
“Yes, but I still have to work,” I say with a smile.
Stephanie trails a giant cloud of perfume behind her—something like honey, floral, and coconutty. Like she bathed in it. With her white skirt and soft pink blouse, she looks girlish, playfully feminine. “What treats did you bring?”
“You must be starving,” she says as she comes closer. She spreads out the food: classic American stuff—burgers, fries, donuts, and sandwiches.
“Oh, wow,” I marvel at the spread, laughing. Pretty much the opposite of what I usually eat.
“I figured since you miss the States so much you’d appreciate this.”
She looks so excited I can’t really say no.
“But you’ll eat something too, right?”
“Of course!” she says brightly, glancing around. “Eat over there?”
“Sure.” The table’s pretty low, but it’ll do. We sit down. It’s okay to indulge once in a while
“Are you seeing anyone?” she asks as I pick up a burger. At least it’s stacked with plenty of meat.
“You mean a woman? No, not right now. I wanted to settle into London first.”