Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
IRIS
I make my way out of the station and onto the crowded sidewalk.
Tourists are taking photos of different landmarks and looking around in awe at the architecture.
People who live here probably think they are crazy.
I can’t help but wonder if they appreciate what’s in their backyard the way tourists do.
Keeping my hands tucked safely into my pockets and my head held high, I make my way back to the hotel.
“Afternoon, Miss Howard,” the doorman says as I step inside.
“Afternoon,” I tell him, smiling back.
I head toward the back and to where the offices are.
“Hey, there you are,” Max says when he sees me.
“Sorry, I stepped out for lunch.”
He smirks as he sits back in his chair. “Let me guess, you went to one of the markets?”
“Borough. I’ve been craving Kappacasein lately.”
“You love those cheesy potatoes,” he muses. “If I knew you were going, I would have had you grab me something.”
I reach into my satchel and pull out a wrapped sandwich. “I picked this up for you.”
Max tips his head back and groans. “You are a goddess.”
I duck my head to hide my smile. “Thanks,” I tell him when I get myself under control.
“Did you get your bread too?” he asks.
I snort. “Really? You think I didn’t?” I pull the bread out. “I also grabbed you some.”
“Thanks,” he says, accepting the second loaf.
The first time Max brought me to London, he indulged me.
He helped me create a list of things I wanted to do and made sure it happened.
At the top of my list was Borough Market.
We went and had a blast. We ate so much we went back to the hotel and passed out.
We tried all of the stalls that we could in one day.
We realized real quick that we would need to pick only the ones that interested us most because there was no way to do it all in one visit.
Then we went back the next day and ate the ones that were still on our list.
Now, every time we come, we walk through and try any new stalls that have popped up since the last time while visiting some old favorites.
To date, it’s one of my top five travel memories.
Smiling, he shakes his head. “Oh, before I forget, I made reservations for Sunday roast.”
“Oh, where?” I ask as excitement fills me.
As cliché as it is, I love getting Sunday roast with Max every time we are in town. We’ve tried several different places over the years, but there is one that we keep circling back to.
“Why don’t we keep it a surprise?”
Once again, I bite back a smile. I love surprises. At least when Max is the one surprising me. The man has just known me for so long he knows what I like.
“If I didn’t know better Max, I would think you know me,” I tease.
“That’s because I do.”
Before either of us can say anything else, his phone rings.
“I’ll let you get back to work.” I walk out of his office and into the one that I use when we visit.
My phone vibrates right when I sit down. After placing my bag in the drawer, I grab my phone. When I unlock the screen, I see a message from Clint from the bar. For a moment, I contemplate not opening it.
He’s nice and all, but I don’t know if I’m really interested. I feel drawn to him in a way, though, because we are in similar situations. I don’t want to lead him on, though. It feels like there is no winning.
Dating is hard. It’s mentally draining doing the same thing over and over again. Not only that, but it’s hard to continuously put yourself out there only for it to probably not work out.
My phone vibrates again, and I look down. It’s just the push notification, reminding me to look at it.
Clint is a good guy. I really enjoyed our date together. He is funny and kind. He is a bit shy in a way, but after hearing about him trying to get over his ex, it makes sense.
I wish I could fall in love with a man like him. Maybe that’s why I haven’t totally stopped talking to him. I’ve kept hanging on, hoping that maybe what we could build together would overshadow the ideal I have in my head of Max.
Still, it only makes my head spin. My actions don’t match my words. I want to date and find a man to settle down with, but I still find myself straying toward Max whenever he is in a room.
Last week in Jamaica didn’t help things. It fed my fantasies but also reminded me that I cannot keep reading into everything he does as if he does them solely for me. I need to face the truth. I thought I was, but Jamaica proved that it is easier said than done.
I have to figure it out.
Clint
Good afternoon, gorgeous. How’s your favorite city?
I smile. Clint is very complimentary. I like that he likes to build me up with each text. No toxic masculinity. It doesn’t seem creepy. It only feels genuine.
Me
Amazing. I just ate more than I should have, but it was worth it.
Clint
Here you are eating lunch while I’m on my third cup of coffee, and it is only eight a.m. When do you get back into town?
Me
In a few days.
Clint
Want to grab a meal when you get back? No pressure, but it would be nice to get out with some company.
Sighing, I look down at my screen and contemplate it. I don’t want to lead him on, but maybe it isn’t if we are on the same page?
I look up at my door and think about Max. Maybe a friendly dinner wouldn’t be the worst idea.
Me
Sure. You tell me when and where.
Clint
Send me your flight details so I know when you are back. I’ll make the reservations and let you know the details. Talk to you later.
Me
Sounds like a plan. Have a good day.
I back out of the message and toss my phone onto my desk.
There. Another date on the books. A second date at that. It’s a step in the right direction.
Something about it still doesn’t sit right. It feels wrong even though I know it’s not. I’m not cheating on Max. We were never even dating. At least not anywhere outside of my own head.
It’s silly. Stupid even.
A knock on my door has me looking up.
“Hey Iris, a bunch of us are going to Wetherspoons after work. Do you want to join?” Beatrice asks, referring to one of Britain’s popular pub chains.
Beatrice is nice, she’s the head of accounting at this location.
I think about her offer for a moment. “Tempting, but I think I’m going to have to pass. I think the jet lag is getting to me.”
She looks at me sympathetically. “I don’t know how you travel so much.”
“Me neither,” I joke, making her laugh.
“Well, the offer stands. You know where to find us,” she says before walking away.
Sighing, I look down at my desk and start to second-guess my choice.
Should I go out with them and build those relationships? It would probably be smart if I end up moving here. Then again, I would be working for the competitor. Would they still want to talk to me when I jump ship? Would I need to make new friends?
Groaning, I tip my head back.
God, I don’t even want to think about it.
The phone on my desk rings, reminding me that it’s time to get back to work.
I need to concentrate on the here and now. Not on what might or might not happen.
MAX
As soon as we get off the Tube, Iris links her arm through mine.
“I know where we’re going,” she says with a skip in her step.
“Do you?”
I can’t help but smirk when she bumps her shoulder into mine.
“Of course I do.”
The Parakeet Pub is one of our favorite places. We’ve tried other restaurants for Sunday roast, but there’s something about this one that keeps drawing us back. Honestly, my only complaint about it is the fact that it’s in a busy area.
Then again, everywhere is busy when you’re in a city.
I told her it was a surprise where we were eating, but I knew she would catch on. This place has become so special to us that at this point, I can’t even imagine going anywhere else.
This is our place.
We push our way through the crowd and down the street. When we slip into the restaurant, the noise dies down instantly.
“I’ll go tell them we are here,” Iris says, squeezing my arm.
I watch her weave through to the back, where the restaurant separates from the pub. It’s still early, so the place isn’t overly busy.
I watch as Iris talks to the host. She looks over her shoulder and waves me over.
When I get to her, I place my hand on her lower back.
“Our table is ready,” she tells me quietly.
The host leads us to a little booth in the corner.
“Someone will be right over,” the host says before walking away.
I scoot between our table and the one next to us after Iris sits down.
“The only thing I don’t like is how the tables are all on top of each other,” she says quietly.
“It’s a small place. Besides, I think it adds to the family feel,” I tell her.
She snorts. “You don’t even like people.”
She’s right. I don’t, but this place is different. It feels like it is more than a restaurant. It feels like home in a way.
“I don’t usually, but this place is different. It holds fond memories for me.” I keep my tone soft.
Her face beams at my words as she picks at her silverware. She doesn’t say a word, but she doesn’t need to.
Neither of us picks up a menu. We’ve been here so many times that we just know what we will get. I’ll order the lamb, and she will get the beef. Then when we get it, we will give each other some of the other’s dish.
Something I would never think about doing if she were anyone else. Sharing food is too intimate. I won’t even do it with my friends, but Iris is different. She always has been.
She leans forward, her elbow on the table, and rests her chin in her hand.
God, she’s beautiful. Sometimes looking at her, it’s hard to breathe.
“You’re staring,” she murmurs.
“I can’t help it.”
She rolls her eyes, likely thinking I’m teasing when I’m not.
“So how have you been?” I ask as I blow out a breath.
“We have spent the last week and a half traveling together. You know how I’ve been,” she tells me.
“I know how work has gone, but it doesn’t tell me how you are personally. We haven’t had a mental check-in this trip. How are you holding up?” I ask.