Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(74)

I find a somewhat quiet corner of the station, and almost as soon as I start the call, he answers.

“Reese!” he shouts. “I’m sorry you didn’t get picked, mate.”

“Oh please,” I say. “This was yours to win, and you know it. You totally deserved it. I am so happy for you!”

“I can’t believe something I designed is going to be on a real runway. It’s … wow. I’m chuffed, truly.” He sighs. “You make it into London?”

“Yep, I’m officially in your lovely country. We have reservations at all the places you and Emily suggested. It’s going to be a blast.”

I wish Philip were back in the UK so I could celebrate with him. Unfortunately, he’s spending the last month of his summer in Paris with his girlfriend, and they’re soaking up as much of the culture as they can.

And I’m going home too, finally, after one enormous pit stop.

“I’ve got to go,” I say. “Promise me you’ll send me hundreds of pictures when your dress hits the runway, okay?”

“Right. Goodbye, Reese.” He hesitates. “I’ll miss seeing you around every day.”

“I’ll miss you too. Now go celebrate—you deserve it!”

Once I hang up, I join my parents. I send the group chat a picture of King’s Cross to let them know I’m okay, and the others reply right away with reactions and various utterings of jealousy. If there’s one thing about this trip I do like, it’s how much FOMO it’s causing my friends. Bless their hearts.

Heath texts me on the side to tell me how excited he is for me to tear up London, then asks me where I’m going next. Prague? Copenhagen? Berlin? He keeps asking these in separate texts, so my phone won’t stop vibrating.

“I wouldn’t have added you onto our weeklong international phone plan if I knew you’d just be calling and texting your friends this whole time,” Mamma says.

Mom nudges her. “Right, like you haven’t been texting pictures to your sisters this whole time.”

“Oh, that’s different.”

“Is it?” I ask, and she pauses.

“No, I guess it isn’t. Fine, we’ll both put our phones away. Deal?”

I agree, and Mamma leads us on a whirlwind sightseeing tour. It’s been a while since she studied abroad here, but there’s surprisingly a lot she still remembers. We see so many sides of the city—the supremely touristy regions, open markets bursting with food, shows in the West End at night, and we even see a cute guy playing the hell out of his oboe on the London Underground, which was a standout to me.

“Reese, one day you’ll see that there’s so much more to this world than we see in Ohio.” Mamma puts her arm around me. “I hope you take more of these opportunities. I know they’re scary, and you didn’t have the easiest time, but you learned so much.”

“I learned a lot this trip, so I believe you.”

“And I have so many clothes I need you to alter and patch up once you get back,” Mom says. “We’re really going to get our money’s worth of that sewing machine we got you.”

“All this learning and culture aside,” Mamma says, “I still don’t get why you picked Orlando as your final stop on what was supposed to be an international tour.”

I laugh. “I’m ready to get back to the states. And you’ve been promising me a Disney World trip for years, and we’re basically out of summers to do it over.”

Plus, it’s only an hour and a half away from Heath.

Diana thinks she can get him to come up, and she’s assured me that this will be the most epic surprise that’s ever happened. Heath loves surprises, but I hope he appreciates this one.

Because, obviously, I do love him. So much. I just have to say that to his face. After all this time, after all we’ve been through as friends, I need to say it to his face. I need him to wrap me in the biggest hug of my life, so I can just melt into him and stay like that forever.

But one thing at a time. And the next thing on my list? Enjoying the hell out of London.





CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

SAL

Congresswoman Betty Caudill is a fully manifested fire. She never seems to run out of energy; she always knows her shit. She’s able to recall names of people she’s only met once or twice in passing, which I’ve seen on numerous occasions. Her scheduler and chief of staff act similarly to Meghan—overworked, overwhelmed, but intensely focused—but Betty picks things up way faster than the senator, and it’s like she executes every movement with clear intention.

This also means she’s never scared to turn back and talk to me while we’re walking the halls. To stop when I’m not fully getting something, and to push me to ask questions rather than what I had to do a lot for Meghan—try to keep my head above water, do as I was told, and hope to god I didn’t mess anything up.

I see April and Josh in the hall from time to time—I’m on the House side of the building now, which isn’t too different in looks but captures a scrappier energy—and they’re learning just as much in their experiences as I am. Finally. Finally!

“Dahlia, can you spend today talking with Sal about the campaign process? I want him to get a full idea of what it’s like to work on a campaign, as I think he might like that side of things.”