My Summer in London (My Summer #1)(16)
When I was finally fed up with this strange dance we were doing, I opened my lips to say something, but he beat me to it.
“Are you doing anything tonight?”
Um, no. I didn’t have friends yet, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. I was twenty-one, for crying out loud. I should have a vibrant nightlife with lots of girl time. Instead of telling him the truth, I decided to tell a little white lie.
“Yes, actually with people from school.”
“Right, right, of course.”
Okay then. I supposed there was nothing left to be said here. “I should get going.”
“Be safe.” His face softened as his eyes lingered on my face before adding in a strained voice, “Please.”
“Always.”
Everything seemed to blur from then on—the walk towards the awaiting car and being driven and deposited at Margery’s house. It was none of my business, but somehow, I was left with an inkling that he was going to spend the night with his woman.
The heart was a fickle thing. It usually never followed what the mind bid it to. It simply felt.
And what a dangerous thing that was.
Chapter Ten
It had been exactly a week since that emotionally charged encounter, and lucky for me, Cruz had been in and out of the office, travelling and attending business meetings in different parts of Europe. It would be conceited to consider, but part of me believed Cruz was relieved he didn’t have to see me. I wasn’t sure why my thoughts led me to that conclusion, but I had the wild hunch.
With Cruz gone, Archer suddenly come out of nowhere, surprising me at work. He thought to pop in and see how things were working out for me and to also tell me he would be going to the south of France with some of friends for a whole week. He even extended an invitation, and for a second, I was willing to go, but then I was reminded of school and work commitments. I couldn’t check out of those responsibilities for a whole week. It would be insane. Archer, however, was a law unto himself.
He didn’t follow any rules and did things on his own terms—coming home whenever he felt like, dating whomever he wanted, whether to opt in to work in their family company or not, or to follow the proper social obligations or not. Some might see it as impulsive, lazy even, but I found myself admiring that trait—not giving a f*uk if he was offending anyone. It must be freeing to act and think that way. One could only wish to have such freedom, but I cared too much.
During this time, I met two girls from school, one named Nessa and her roommate/best friend, the eccentrically cute Bobbie. They were the epitome of opposites attract. Sometimes, I wondered how one could tolerate the other, but for some reason, they worked and, in a sense, complimented each other. I guessed, since they grew up together as neighbors, they’d had time to accept each other’s traits.
Before I left school to go to my internship, Bobbie invited me to a party tonight. Given that it was my first official invitation from anyone at school, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. The need to fit in with my peers made it all the more important to me. Promising them I would text them the address to Margery’s house in Chelsea, I then went to work, but this time, I made sure I had the right clothes to change into.
With Denise gone to shadow Cruz wherever he needed to get to, I had to go under Steph. Steph was more laidback, and I resonated more with her than Denise. Maybe it was because she was less intense and much hipper due to her love of rock and roll, one tidbit that I didn’t expect upon judging her by appearance since she looked like your typical Miss Prim. She proved me wrong, though.
Once work ended, I came home to dine with Margery. She and I had been in our getting-to-know-each-other stage. I found her enchanting, most especially when she told me stories about her youth, how she met my mother, or how she fell in love. There was no doubt in my mind how much love she had for her late husband. The more she reminisced, the more I recalled Cruz’s words about how true love could sometimes kill someone. When she got those spells, she usually got teary-eyed, not the hysterical, but more of a poised, gracious cry. Before we parted for the night so she could rest and read a novel, I gave her a warm hug then whispered that she was a brave woman. The despair in her eyes became evident before she whispered her thank you with a weakened smile.
I had already informed her that I planned to go out tonight, so when she wished me a lovely evening, I took it as my cue to go upstairs and change.
The minute I was secured in the room, I began to change into a skin-tight, stretchy, white, micro mini dress. No denim mishap for me tonight, I thought as I inwardly recoiled at the memory of the horrified look as they ridiculed my outfit that night. Though I didn’t want to be bullied into changing who I was and what I liked, I also didn’t want to provoke uninvited attention. With some careful use of cosmetics, I decided to let my hair down before slipping into some stilettos.
When Bobbie called, telling me they would be there in less than five minutes, I hurriedly went downstairs and waited right outside for them to show up. Surprisingly, Bobbie had her boyfriend Jude, a guy who matched her dulled-out, silvery-pink hair, drive us to the party. And since I had no idea where the party was located, I was beginning to worry after thirty minutes or so when we didn’t slow down one bit on the freeway.
“Um … How far away is this place?”
Nessa threw me a warm smile. “Not far. We’re almost in Brighton, love.”