CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The London skies were gray the day Carrie’s plane touched down at Heathrow as if in sympathy for her heartbreak. Nate was done filming so he, Paige, and Carrie were coming back to the UK. She had spent three weeks in LA trying to get over Max and she wasn’t sure she’d done such a great job. She’d found herself thinking about him far more than she should. She’d tried to keep busy with business but at night when she was lying in bed all the memories would come rushing back and keep her awake until the wee hours of the morning. Now she was tired, cranky, and generally bitchy.
She had only been back a few days when Tyler Gaylord called and invited her to dinner. Sick of feeling sorry for herself, she’d immediately said yes and set about putting together the perfect outfit to wear to give her confidence a boost. The weather was much cooler than LA so she chose a suede pencil skirt in red, a white lace blouse, and black knee-high boots. Taking a little extra time with her hair and makeup, she finished off the look with a swipe of crimson lipstick that matched the polish on her nails. She felt confident and put together, a far cry from her usual attire.
She’d spent way too much time in LA wearing sweatpants and t-shirts while working at her laptop. Moping around wasn’t going to change anything. In fact it, was beginning to make it worse. She needed a desperate dose of get out of the damn house and live.
When she entered the swanky restaurant, the maitre’d greeted her politely but reservedly. The mere mention of Tyler’s name seemed to immediately perk him up though and she was quickly led to the corner table where her dinner companion was waiting. Tyler stood and grinned, pulling her in for a hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek. He’d become a good and undemanding friend.
“Thank you for having dinner with me.” Pulling out her chair, he handed her jacket off to the maitre’d for safekeeping and then returned to his own seat.
“Did you think I would cancel?”
“It was a possibility.”
Carrie was glad she’d said yes for many reasons. One of them was the view from their table. It was absolutely breathtaking. With an entire wall of windows, it appeared that London was laid out before them like a feast. Opening the menu, she nodded to a table behind Tyler about ten feet away.
“Is that the Prime Minister?”
Chuckling, Tyler shot a glance over his shoulder. “Even politicians have to eat and the food here is as spectacular as the view. I promise.”
Tyler’s word was as good as gold. The meal was superb, one of the best she’d ever had, and they spent the next few hours talking, laughing, and catching up. She told him about all the things she was learning about the movie business while in LA and he told her about the press tour for his latest picture. The one subject they avoided was Max but it was there like the proverbial elephant in the room just waiting for one of them to bring it up. She swore it wouldn’t be her. She wanted just one night of peace.
One crème brûlée – to share – and two cappuccinos were placed in front of them by the efficient but unsmiling waiter. Carrie savored the first bite of her dessert with its smooth as silk custard and sweet, crunchy topping.
“I think we should have ordered two of these,” she groaned, her taste buds in heaven. “One for here and one to take home.”
“I’ll have the management pack you a doggy bag,” Tyler teased, clicking their spoons together. “So do you want to talk about it, Red? I’m a good listener.”
She didn’t have to ask what “it” was.
“Not particularly. I’m trying to forget the last four months ever happened.”
Tyler’s smile dimmed as he nodded toward the entrance to the bar area. “Sadly, sweetheart, today is not the day you’re going to be able to do that.”
Twisting in her seat, Carrie’s heart plummeted to her stomach and she had to fight for breath. Max, a drink in hand, was with two other men she didn’t recognize and being led to an empty table far too near the one she was currently seated at. Her broken and battered heart decided at that moment to come to life again and it raced so fast it made the room spin.
Running through a dozen curse words in her head, she turned back to her dessert, effectively shutting out Max. Knowing his stiff upper lip with a dash of stick-up-the-rear-end, he’d never in a million years come over here. Too conspicuous. Too rude. It would ruin his British gentleman ruse that he had going on the world.
“Over eight million people in London and he had to walk in here and be seated right next to us,” she marveled, taking another bite. “What were the odds? I must have the worst luck in the world.”
She wouldn’t allow herself to fidget in her chair no matter how much she felt Max staring at her back. It was like two lasers boring into her scapulas. His physical presence was palpable in the room. If she concentrated hard she could smell the citrus in his body wash.
“Do you want to leave? I can call the car service and we can be out of here in no time.”
Of course she wanted to leave. But that wasn’t the point. Max was friends with her friends. She couldn’t run for cover every time they were in the same room. There was no time like the present to get used to this.
“Maxwell Hayes isn’t going to ruin this amazing dessert. I’m going to sit here and eat every bite.”
Even if it was killing her inside. Max may have broken her heart but he wasn’t going to break her spirit. She still had some pride and she was going to cling to every shred of it like a life preserver in the days and weeks to come.