Chapter 6
Six
“And did you manage to back up all the data on your old device?” the Apple Store worker asks me.
“I think I did?” I tap on the Settings button. “Yup, it’s all good. It backed up last night.”
“Brilliant. Just give me a moment, I’ll be right back. You said you wanted the lavender-colored mobile with the two hundred fifty gigs of memory?”
“Yes. If you don’t have lavender, I’ll take the mint green. I need to walk out of here with a phone. This one has had it.”
The tech taps his tablet. “It looks like we have both in stock. I’ll be right back. Feel free to look around and let me know if anything else catches your eye. I’ll be happy to pull it for you.”
The store has several tables with floor models of the latest devices to play with.
There are iPads, MacBooks, Apple Watches, and a host of other tech toys.
As much as I’d love to buy a shiny new iPad Pro, it’s outside my budget.
I need to make do with what I have until it dies.
If my phone weren’t beyond repair, I’d be waiting on that too.
I’m wandering around the tables and skimming the cards with information about all the devices when my old phone vibrates. It’s still managing to hang on until the bitter end.
“Text from an unknown number? I wonder if it’s my bank,” I mutter to myself. My breath hitches as I unlock the screen.
Unknown Number
Cheers, Minerva. It’s Sam.
My pulse races. He’s taken the ball from the court and served it right back to me.
What do I say? My mind is drawing a blank.
Should I be coy? Flirty? Witty? Ugh. I can’t think of anything to say.
I stare at the blinking cursor. We just met, so maybe a neutral greeting would be best. I wipe my sweaty hand against my trousers to text him back.
Min
Hi. I’m impressed. It’s just 7:01 now.
Unknown Number
You said you wouldn’t be free until after seven. So I waited until it was indeed after seven.
My lips twitch.
Min
I can practically hear your voice dripping with sarcasm.
Unknown Number
*Shrugging emoji*
Three dots appear. Sam is typing.
Unknown Number
Was that offer for drinks good anytime?
My eyes widen. A small part of me thought I wouldn’t be hearing back from him. But not only did he respond, he wants to meet up. Was Liz right? Did he feel the chemistry between us too? I craft a reply that I hope doesn’t come across as being anxious.
Min
As long as I’m not working.
Unknown Number
What about tonight? I have the day off tomorrow. I don’t have to be up at 05:30.
Min
Five a.m.?
Unknown Number
It’s not so bad. You get used to it.
Min
Suit yourself. Any time before eight is too early.
Unknown Number
What time do you normally wake up?
Min
Nine if I can swing it. On a workday though, it’s usually eight.
Unknown Number
So you’re not a morning person. Noted.
Min
Nope, and I never have been and probably never will be. My parents used to have an awful time getting me up to go to school.
At least as an adult, I can keep humane hours.
Actually, there is one exception to this—ballet. Anytime I had a summer intensive or knew I would be dancing, I had no problems waking up at the crack of dawn. That, however, hasn’t happened in years.
Min
If you want to meet, I can stay out until ten.
Unknown Number
What happens after ten? Do you turn into a pumpkin?
I smile. I’m starting to get a sense of Sam’s dry humor.
Min
Nothing that cool. I just really don’t like taking the Tube at night. It creeps me out.
Unknown Number
In that case, we’ll aim for nine thirty.
Min
*Thumbs-up emoji*
Unknown Number
Are you still near Whitehall?
Min
Actually . . .
I snap a photo of the interior of the Apple Store and insert it into my text.
Min
I’m in Knightsbridge.
Unknown Number
Is that the store on Brompton Road?
Min
Yup, I’m getting a new phone. The one you saved the other day is hanging on by a thread.
I shake my hands out. The device is hot and definitely on the verge of overheating.
Unknown Number
Are you going to be there for at least the next ten minutes?
Min
Looks like it. The sales associate isn’t back yet.
Unknown Number
Brilliant, I’ll be there in six minutes.
Min
OK.
I save his number, click the screen off, place my phone down on the table in front of me, and fan myself. I just agreed to meet Sam. Tonight. Am I ready for this? I hope so. It’s too late to change my mind.
“Are you OK? You’re a little pink.” The tech has returned with the latest iPhone in his hands.
“I’m fine, my old phone is just hot,” I fib.
He holds up the box with the new model. “Then we shouldn’t waste any time in setting this up.”
“Uh-huh.”
I turn over two different phone cases in my hand. They’re both clear, but one contains water and rose-gold glitter, and the other blue glitter. I shake them both and watch the glitter float from the top of the case to the bottom as I try and decide which one excites me more.
I hear a man clear his throat. “Get the gold. It’s more neutral.”
I appreciate that Sam has given me warning he’s here and that he didn’t just start talking.
I would’ve jumped out of my skin for about the fourth or fifth time in two days.
I’ve had all the surprises I can handle.
Taking a moment to compose myself, I shake the cases again.
“You’re right, this one will look better with the purple. ”
“Did you already get a screen protector too?”
“Yeah, the sales associate has it.” I return the blue glitter case to the shelf. “He’s putting it on the phone now. I didn’t want to walk out of here without it protected seeing as it’s about a thousand pounds.”
“Smart.”
Getting my first look at Sam, I do a double take. “You’re in normal clothes!”
I thought he was handsome before, but he’s added a new layer of attractiveness.
The white collar of a dress shirt pokes out from underneath a navy-blue cable-knit sweater.
It’s worn in places, but the thick wool looks ultra-soft and warm.
I appreciate that on a chilly evening like tonight, Sam’s chosen comfort over looks.
As my gaze travels down, I note that he’s paired the top with dark-wash jeans, a black belt, and dark brown Chelsea boots.
My throat goes dry. Those jeans leave little to the imagination.
They hug his legs and butt in all the right places.
Riding horses for a living has developed his muscles.
His thighs are massive. Who knew that underneath that boxy coat was a man who could pass for a male model.
I’m a sucker for a man in well-fitting clothes.
He chuckles. “What did you think I’d wear when I’m not on duty?”
He has a point. The thought never crossed my mind. “Camos? Fatigues? Or whatever you call them over here.”
“We wear camos for stable work, but on our own time, we can wear what we want.”
Oh boy. Now that I’ve seen him in a uniform and dressed as a civilian, my mind is going to go wild picturing him in an array of different outfits. I wonder what he looks like in a dress uniform. A tuxedo? “Let me, uh, just check out, then we can grab something to drink.”
“Brilliant, I’ll just be looking at the smartwatches.”
I quickly walk over to the sales associate and practically throw my temporary debit card and the case at him.
I’ve never wanted to be out of a store so fast. I spot Sam walk over to the watch display with a confidence and posture that reminds me of a male dancer.
There’s no denying that my body responds well to his presence.
A few minutes later, we’re walking side by side past the world-famous Harrods department store. Sam’s shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans.
“You got here pretty fast. Where exactly are the Knightsbridge barracks?”
“On Knightsbridge Street.” He snickers.
I snort. Of course they’d be. “I guess I walked right into that one. I just assumed it was named after the area, not the literal street.”
“To be fair, I made the same guess when I first arrived in London.” He grins and points down the street we’re crossing. “If you walk down Lancelot Place and make a right on Trevor Street, the barracks are right across from Hyde Park behind the posh Bulgari Hotel.”
“Fancy.”
“For the horses, maybe, but not for us.” He shrugs. “Our rooms are the standard-issue army size.”
“So in other words, you live like most Londoners, in a closet-sized room.”
“Exactly.” He nods. “What about you? What part of the city do you live in?”
“I’m in Whitechapel, near Aldgate. But come September, I’m not sure where I’ll be living.”
“Why? Can’t you stay in Whitechapel?”
“It’s too expensive.” I shake my head. “For the last three years, I’ve been living in a flat owned and subsidized by my university. I graduated last semester. When the term on my lease ends, I’ll have to find a new place.”
“Congratulations are in order to you.”
We stop at the signal. Under the lights, his eyes are that warm caramel color. A small bit of stubble coats his chin. The rugged look suits him. All he’s missing is a horse.
“Thanks.”
“What did you end up studying?”
“Take a wild guess,” I tease, curious to know what he’s thinking.
“Maths?”
“Strike one.”
He strokes his chin. “Chemistry.”
“No way. I’m not a science person.”
The light changes. We join the throng of other pedestrians darting across the street.
“OK . . . landscaping design.”
“That’s closer, but still wrong.” I giggle. “I’m a fashion designer.”
“Fashion?”
“Uh-huh.”
His eyes rake over my outfit. It’s the same one I was wearing when we met yesterday. I’m in a hunter-green polo shirt, khaki-colored trousers, and black Converse. Not exactly something that’s fashion forward. “Don’t let my work uniform fool you. This isn’t something I’d wear given a choice.”
“Then tell me—if you’d had time to change, what would you have picked out today?”
“That’s an easy one.” I wave my hand. “It would be my white silk blouse, black trousers, and black ballet flats.”