Chapter 6

 

It was an unusually warm and sunny Saturday. At least, warm and sunny by London standards. The weather here was a bit different than what I was used to in Georgia. I decide to go out for the day, ready to enjoy London. It seemed like all I had been doing since arriving was working. It was time to get out. Do some shopping and sightseeing.

Springtime in London is enchanting. The deep freeze of winter was finally subsiding and bright, colorful flowers were beginning to bloom. Hyde Park was scattered with people lying on blankets and playing ball, taking advantage of the warm weather. I put on a pair of sunglasses, look up at a cloudless blue sky, and felt the warmth of the sun on my face.

I stroll through the streets of London with no particular destination in mind, allowing myself to go wherever the city takes me. I stop and order a coffee at the closest Starbucks. The city was buzzing with activity. People darting in and out of shops, tourists snapping photos, and cars whizzing by.

I make my way across the street to Portobello Market. It’s a bustling open air market with pastel colored townhouses lining the street on each side. It’s full of merchants selling everything from tee-shirts to teapots. Walking along the market, it’s an endless procession of bargains and treasures. I notice a table full of soft, leather handbags. I stop and examine an antique brass clock. Admire a bold Western-style turquoise ring.

Then I spot it. A white cashmere scarf. I pick up the scarf, feel the softness between my fingers that is cashmere. It’s gorgeous. Elegant in its simplicity.

The saleslady immediately senses a potential sale. “It’s a lovely scarf,” she says. “It would look so good on you. Try it on,” she says encouragingly, while holding up a hand mirror.

I wrap the white scarf around my shoulders. “It’s beautiful,” I said, admiring my reflection in the mirror.

“Stunning. And so is the scarf.” A male voice behind my shoulder. His voice. Slowly I turn around and there he is. Alex.

My heart stops. I have to tell myself to breathe. He must be the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on.

He smiles, his lips parting to showcase perfectly straight, white teeth. His blue eyes twinkle with amusement.

“Oh! Alex! How long have you been here?” I ask, unable to hide my surprise.

“Not long. I was walking by and to my delight, saw you. I thought I would stop and say hello.”

“Oh…..hello.” I wasn’t quite sure what to say. It felt a little strange to see him outside of work. He was dressed casually in beige khakis and a burgundy sweater. I notice the outline of his chest, the way the sweater skimmed over his muscles. His brown hair was combed back with just a bit of wave to it. I had the sudden urge to run my hands through it.

The saleslady brings me back to reality. “I can sell it to you for £150.” What? Oh, right. The cashmere scarf. I did a quick conversion to dollars, tallying the scarf at $225.

I debated a few seconds and decided the scarf was too pricey. “It’s a lovely scarf. I’ll think about it.” I said, politely. “Thank you, though.” I reluctantly hand the scarf back to the saleslady, aware that Alex is listening to every word. I turn back around to him and we begin walking through the market, side by side.

“I liked the scarf, it looked beautiful on you,” Alex says.

“Well, unfortunately, at £150, it’s a little too much for me,” I reply.

We wander through the market, stopping every so often at various tables and kiosks. He strolls with his hands in his pockets, with the kind of confidence of someone who is used to getting what he wants.

“I love markets like this,” I remark. “The people, the energy.”

“Yeah, Portobello is great. There are a few other markets that are interesting, but I think this is one is the best,” he replies.

We stop for a moment while I examine a gorgeous hand-painted teapot, then continue through the throng of people.

Finally, we get to the end of the market. I turn towards Alex, his handsome good looks making my heart beat a little faster. “This was fun. I’m glad we ran into each other.”

Alex smiles, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “If you don’t have any other plans for the afternoon, would you like to join me for a drink? I know a great pub just around the corner.”

I hesitate, uncertain. “I don’t know, Alex. Don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate? I mean, you are my boss.”

“If you don’t tell, I won’t.” He flashes a devilish grin. “Come on, Katherine. It’s just a drink.”

He knows I want to. I know I want to. There’s no point in even trying to act like I don’t.

“Alright. But just one drink.”

 

 

We walk two blocks down from Portobello Market to a pub called St. Fredrick’s Tavern. The restaurant is softly lit with a cozy fireplace in the corner.

Alex, nodding to the barman, takes my hand and leads the way. We walk towards the back of the restaurant, passing several empty booths. We slide into a booth and he sits down across from me.

He seems suddenly very alert. His eyes scan the room, appearing to take note of each and every individual. He looks over my shoulder, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the pub. I take a quick look over my shoulder, wondering who or what he is looking at. I see nothing. I turn back to him with a quizzical look.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Of course. Why do you ask?” he responds casually.

“You just seem a little……I don’t know……preoccupied.”

“Not at all.” He cocks his head slightly, grins. “Well…..perhaps I am preoccupied. With you.” He fixes his eyes on me, the intensity of his stare making me uncomfortable and excited all at the same time.

I clear my throat and give a nervous laugh. “I think it’s time for that drink.”

Alex motions for the waiter. “Hello, Mr. McCall.” The waiter nods at me. “What can I get for you today?”

“I’ll have a glass of merlot, please.”

“And for you, sir?”

“A glass of whisky.”

“Very well, sir.” The waiter hurries off with our order.

“Do you come here often,” I ask.

“Maybe once or twice a week, if I have the time,” he replies.

The waiter brings our drinks. I take a long drink of the red wine, feel the warm sensation of the alcohol.

Alex takes a drink of his whisky. “I’m pleased with everything you’ve done so far on the Cosmopolitan project.”

“Thank you,” I reply. “I’m thoroughly enjoying the project, and glad you think everything is going well.” I pause, taking another sip of wine. “But, there is one thing I’m slightly concerned about.”

Alex raises an eyebrow. “Really? Tell me.”

“I got a call late yesterday from Patrick, in the architect’s office. He said the specific carpeting you want might not be able to be produced on time.”

“This isn’t good,” Alex says. “Any suggestions?”

“Well, the carpet is being manufactured in Dalton, Georgia. And, as you know, I know a lot of people there. I’ll make a call on Monday,” I say, smiling.

Alex grins and takes a drink of his whisky. “Excellent. You see,” Alex says, leaning in over the table, “I knew you’d be an asset to me.”

I smile, holding his gaze, and feel the sparks fly between us.

“Would you like another glass of wine?” Alex asks, noting my empty glass. I hadn’t realized I had finished my glass already. No wonder I was feeling so relaxed, so chatty with Alex. I hesitated. I had said just one drink.

Damn, Katherine. Live a little! You’re having a great time with an interesting and gorgeous man. You’re 27, not 87. Have some fun! For a change.

What the hell. I needed to let loose, let off some steam. And I was having a wonderful time with Alex. I really didn’t want to leave.

“Sure, why not?” I replied. He looks at me, smiling, a slightly surprised look on his face.

Alex waves to the waiter. “Another glass of wine for the lady. And an order of bruschetta, please.”

Two hours and three generous glasses of wine later, I was feeling good. More than good. I was feeling drunk. And so turned on I could hardly contain myself. Two hours of talking and listening to Alex McCall had made me realize that I had only known silly little boys – guys. Alex was different - a man. His aura of composure and self-assuredness was beyond sexy. It was intoxicating. A chill raced up my spine.

“Let’s go for walk,” I suggest, feeling the need for some fresh air to clear my head. We leave the tavern with Alex stopping at the bar to pay the tab.

“I know just the place to go,” Alex says.

“You lead the way,” I reply, ready to follow him wherever.

A few blocks down we arrive at Holland Park. It’s a beautiful park in the Notting Hill area, just west of London. Quiet and peaceful, almost serene. We stroll through the park, the gardens lush and green, with gorgeous flowers blooming everywhere. A proud peacock struts by, fanning its tail. It’s like a slice of English countryside right in the middle of London.

“Why don’t we sit down,” Alex says, pointing towards an empty bench in front of a water fountain. The area was quiet with no one else around. Only the burbling sound of the water fountain.

We sit down on the wooden bench, our bodies angled towards each other.

“I’ve enjoyed today. It’s been really nice to get out and see more of London,” I say to Alex.

“I would love to show you all of London,” Alex says, taking my hand in his.

“I would like that.” I could feel my guard crumbling. I didn’t care. All I could think about was how alive I felt being with Alex in this moment.

Alex reaches over and gently caresses my cheek. His touch lights up every nerve in my body. I reach up for his hand, wanting to touch him. He brings my hand to his lips, kissing the front of it, his eyes staring deep into mine. It was both tantalizing and tender.

He leans toward me, with one hand still holding mine, and the other gliding over the back of my neck. I can feel the strength of his hand, pulling me closer to him. My breathing deepens, my lips part.

Alex kisses me, deeply, with a passion I have never known before. He glides his hand down, over my shoulders, resting it on my lower back. His tongue explores my mouth, gliding over my lips, sending a ripple of sensation throughout my body. I run my hand up his back, his neck, up to his hair, grabbing a handful of it, pulling him even closer to me.

Alex releases my mouth, pulling back slowly. I look down and take a few deep breaths to steady myself. My body is begging for more, the sensation of his kiss still coursing through me. Alex gently lifts my chin, his eyes flooded with a mixture of desire and concern.

“Are you okay, Katherine?” he asks.

I smile weakly. “I’m okay. I think.” We both laugh softly, and I lean against him, his strong arms wrapped around me. We sit in silence for a few moments.

Finally, I lift my head off of his shoulder. He brushes a loose strand of hair away from my face. I need to go home, need some time to think.

“Thank you for a lovely day, Alex. I need to go home, though.”

“Of course. I’ve really enjoyed our time together,” he says softly. “Let me hail a cab for you.”

We leave Holland Park, my arm linked with his. This is nice. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Ever, actually.

We emerge out into the main street and Alex hails a cab for me. I turn, facing him. We hug, and he gives me a quick peck on my lips.

“Goodbye, Alex,” I say, while getting into the cab.

He squeezes my hand. “See you Monday, Katherine. Cheers.”

 

 

I arrive back to my flat, thoughts whirling in my mind. I can’t believe I just made out with my boss. My boss. I sigh and sit down on the bed. This is not what I had planned. The three glasses of merlot must be wearing off because suddenly I feel like I’ve made a big mistake.

Heather’s words flashed through my mind. He looks like trouble, if you know what I mean. Trouble is what I don’t need, that’s for sure. What I do need is a long, hot, relaxing bath.

I turn the water on in the bathtub. It feels good to be home in my flat. I haven’t been here long, but it’s already become my sanctuary. It’s not a lot of space, especially compared to American standards, but it’s mine. My own spot in this busy, hectic city.

I slip my loafers off, slide out of my jeans, and pull my sweater up over my head. I bring the sweater to my nose, inhaling deeply, faint traces of Alex’s cologne still clinging to the fabric.

Sprinkling some lavender bath salts into the water, I gingerly slide into the steaming hot bath, immediately feeling myself relax. I sit in the tub, pulling my legs up in front of me, wrapping my arms around my legs. The steam from the water rises, enveloping me, the scent of lavender calming me.

This is exactly what I needed. I lean back in the tub, closing my eyes. I see his face. His deep blue eyes penetrating into me. The taste of his lips. His mouth on mine. The feel of his strong hands.

There’s no denying it – I wanted Alex McCall in a way that I’d never experienced before. The attraction between us was too strong to ignore, my defenses too weak to fight it.

 

 

Alex closes the door behind him, turns and locks the two deadbolts on the door. Not that a steel door really needed two deadbolts, but nonetheless, he liked the extra security it gave him. He went to his office to check his email. Normally, he would check his email once every hour, sometimes more, even on weekends. But today was different. He had planned to make a quick trip to Portobello Market just to pick up a bottle of his favorite whisky. Years ago, while shopping at the market, by chance, he had stumbled upon a man who sold the best whisky. He had been buying whisky from him ever since.

While walking through the market he was pleasantly surprised to spot Katherine. As soon as he saw her he stopped in his tracks, her unassuming beauty shining like a beacon, calling to him. She was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans, a white cable knit sweater, her blonde hair tucked behind her ears. He had watched her as she admired a white scarf. He had listened to her speak to the saleslady, her sweet Southern accent like music to his ears. To his surprise, she had agreed to have a drink with him. And even more surprising, she had three drinks with him.

He decided to take a shower. He walked to the master bathroom, the white marble gleaming. He turned on the double showerhead, stepped inside, warm water streaming down his toned body. At forty-two, he was still in good shape. He ran his hands through his hair. He closed his eyes and thought about Katherine, running her hands through his hair earlier today. She was different from the other women he knew. Sure, she was different in that she’s American and from the South. But it was more than those surface differences. Katherine was different in her intelligence, her warmth, in her strong character. He was used to women falling all over themselves, trying to get his attention, making it way too easy for him. Katherine wasn’t like that. She was cautious. A challenge. And nothing turned him on more than a challenge.