Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CLAIRE
Claire gazed around the stylish lobby. The boutique hotel surpassed its expected level of charm.
A check of her watch confirmed she had plenty of time to peruse the nearby shops and make her afternoon tea date before dressing for the evening's main event. Her uncle had arranged a limo to collect them promptly at seven. Claire smiled. It’d been ages since she’d stepped out for a red carpet event.
Once inside the suite, she walked to the window to examine the view. The city of London at her feet, nothing short of spectacular. She pulled her cell phone from her purse and scrolled through her contacts.
Molly answered, her voice harried. "When I get my hands on Zach Peterson…”
"It's still early. You're fine," Claire reassured her.
"I should have called in sick and played hooky with you."
"But you're a publishing professional. How would that look?"
"It looks fine to Zach Peterson. He flew off to attend some golf tournament. Hence, I'm still here on a Friday afternoon pulling double duty."
"The suite is fantastic. The view is incredible. It's not going anywhere. You'll get here when you get here. Just relax."
"I still can't believe the old man offered to set us up for the weekend. It’s just like when we were girls."
"He’s really excited that you're coming with me tonight. He’s always adored you."
"No, he adores you. I’m merely adored-by-association, being your closest childhood friend."
"We're going to have fun. It'll be just like summer camp," Claire said.
"Only with room service instead of mosquitoes," Molly joked. "Where are you meeting him again?”
"The Ritz.”
“I think it’s really sweet that he wants to get some private time with you before the party tonight.”
“If I'm not here when you check in, just make yourself comfy—but not too comfy. Hamish is sending a limo and we need to be out the door at seven sharp," Claire reminded her.
"Don’t worry. I'm walking out the door in exactly one hour, no matter what. I have to stop by my place and grab my frock, then I'm in a taxi and on my way."
"Ok. I'll see you soon."
Claire finished unpacking, taking time to give her dress the once over. She inspected the intricate beading on the bodice, confident that she could compete with the best of London society. Once satisfied, she grabbed her phone and purse and returned to the elevator.
After several blocks of window shopping, Claire waved down a taxi which carried her the remaining distance to the famed tearoom. She paid her cab fare and quickly made her way inside.
"Fielding," Claire said to the host.
"Right this way," he answered with a smile.
In spite of the crowd, he spied her uncle immediately. With a toothy grin and a welcoming wave, he motioned to her. She couldn't help but smile back. He stood, extending his arms out to her as she approached the table. After a warm embrace, he pulled away and examined her fully.
"My goodness, Claire. You look stunning." He pulled out her chair before taking his seat across from her.
"Actually, I call this my eye-catching look. You know, for daytime. I'm saving stunning for later this evening." She winked.
"You look beautiful. I can't believe this is the first time we've been able to get together since you moved to London."
"I'm embarrassed, really. I hope you'll forgive me. The last few months have been a complete whirlwind."
"Well, I don't get into the city that much anymore. Only when absolutely necessary."
"You haven't changed a bit, Ham." She reached for his hand.
"Sure I have. Less hair, more ex-wives," he teased.
"And still funny as hell."
"If you can't laugh, then it's hardly worth the trouble. Now then, I hear the tea in this place is satisfactory. Of course, I brought a flask just in case it needs a bit of sprucing up." He patted his coat pocket.
Time melted away as Claire condensed her move to London into sixty minutes of laughter, scones, and Earl Grey.
Aside from her father, no one else on earth made her feel as alive and loved as Uncle Ham, as she'd called him for years.
Her mother's only sibling and Claire's only living relative aside from her father, he'd played an important role in her young life, especially after the death of her mother.
She'd traveled to England and spent long summer days exploring the woods around his country estate north of the city.
He'd always treated her as though she were his very own.
Hamish poured more tea and shared not only the successes in his life, but also the failures as well. Two ex-wives in the wings. A new girlfriend in the picture, though he swore it was nothing serious. All young, all beautiful, and all after one thing.
"You know what they say? Wealthy men are fools." Hamish raised his teacup with a nod.
"Foolish, but delightful." Claire smirked.
“Speaking of fools,” he said, “I heard about your break-up with Mr. Butterworth. I’m so sorry, my love. I hope you parted on good terms.”
Claire took a sip of her tea, debating how to answer.
He doesn’t want or need the entire soap opera. Keep it simple.
“Breakups are never easy.” Claire mustered a smile. “I wish him nothing but the best.”
“Too late for that.” Hamish covered her hand with his own. He already had the best.”
A breeze caught Claire’s long blonde waves, and she looked exactly like her celebrity doppelganger as she exited the limousine. She and Molly linked arms and walked in lock step. Inside the ballroom, they scanned the crowd in search of Hamish.
"Do you see him?" Molly strained her eyes.
Claire shook her head. "No. Like a needle in a haystack."
After a minute or two they gave up, unable to locate Hamish in the sea of tuxedos.
With a deep breath, Claire donned her most confident smile and pointed Molly to the closest bar.
She ordered a glass of champagne, still moving her gaze around the room in search of her uncle.
Just as she thought she'd caught sight of him, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"You weren't kidding, darling. You are absolutely stunning," Hamish said, placing a kiss on her cheek.
"Uncle Ham!” Claire touched the lapel of his jacket. “You look so handsome!"
"Thank you, thank you." He turned to Molly. "Well, if it isn’t the Unsinkable Molly Wise-Beyond-Her-Years. You're all grown up and absolutely breathtaking. My god! It's been too long. Much too long."
"Hamish Fielding, you look fantastic," Molly said, her eyes sparkling.
"It's the tuxedo and nothing more. Now, did you two get settled in at the hotel?"
"It's a beautiful suite. Thank you so much for treating us—and for the whole weekend." Molly smiled.
"My guess is it's been a while since you two had an old-fashioned slumber party."
"Well, it certainly wasn't necessary, but it's very much appreciated." Claire touched his arm lovingly.
"You ladies enjoy yourselves. If you have to break the seal on the mini bar, remember to drink the good stuff first,” he said.
"What do you mean if?" Molly grinned.
Hamish laughed. “I'd love to introduce you both to some of my business associates.”
"That would be lovely," Claire said, linking her arm through his.
The three made the rounds through the crowd.
What Hamish described during tea as a small gathering of contemporaries turned out to be a first-class celebration of three hundred of London's power brokers.
By the time they sat for dinner, Claire caught herself yawning, completely out of gas.
She sat quietly on her uncle's right, offering little in the way of conversation.
Nods and smiles she happily exchanged, but her aching feet cried foul, ready for the evening to wind down.
Hamish's new lady sat on his left picking at her plate while he shared colorful tales with several guests.
The room quieted and after dessert, a man approached a podium on a small stage and began expounding words of appreciation for her uncle's philanthropic contributions to the greater London community.
Applause filled the air as Hamish stood and made his way to the podium.
The two men exchanged handshakes and a host of paparazzi swirled around the podium snapping shot after shot.
Claire's uncle offered a few modest words of thanks, then encouraged everyone to stay and enjoy the evening before returning to his seat.
"Claire, darling, I am so happy to have you here with me tonight," Hamish whispered and kissed her hand.
"Me too,” she said.
"You look so incredibly beautiful. So much like your mother, my love."
"I'm sorry Dad couldn't be here."
"We’ll get him over here when he’s up and around. I’ve made it my sole mission.”
"He really wanted to come, but it would have been too much. Ever since he fell, his mobility hasn’t been the same. The plane ride here and back would have been tough."
"I'm sure he's raising a glass in my honor as we speak."
Claire winked. "I'm sure he started long before we did."
"Now, I promised Nicole the first dance, but you promise me you won't run off before we've had a chance to take a spin. Molly too." He stood and lightly tapped his date on the shoulder.
"I promise," Claire said.
"Not every penguin mates for life. Plenty of single tuxedos about. You need to get out there," he urged, taking Nicole by the hand and disappearing into the crowd.
Claire looked across the table at Molly, knee deep in a serious conversation with the couple on her left, which meant Claire would have to visit the ladies’ room solo.
She excused herself from the table and she made a beeline for the closest facilities, frowning when she hit a lengthy line.
Not wanting to wait, she made her way back to the main entry.