I quickly straighten up my desk and pick up my purse, closing the door behind me. I pull out my phone and send Heather a text letting her know I’m on my way to Magnolia’s.
Chapter 3
6 weeks later
“Miss Harris?” the perky blonde flight attendant gently tapped my shoulder. “Good morning, Miss Harris. Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I mumbled, slowly stretching out my legs. Luckily, the flight was not packed with passengers in Business Class and both seats next to me were unoccupied. As I slowly began to wake up, blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I looked out of the window to see the Atlantic Ocean below, the white caps of waves making their way to land.
I glance around the cabin and see other passengers waking up as well. Businessmen already firing up laptops, ready to conquer the world. A woman tending to her small child. An elderly gentleman reaching for his glasses. A couple two aisles over, cuddling, holding hands, obviously very much in love.
It had been a whirlwind of activity the last six weeks. Packing my belongings and putting everything else into storage. Trying to decide what to take to London and what to leave behind. In the midst everything, I was able to locate online a furnished one bedroom studio flat in Battersea, a neighborhood just outside of London, called Coddingham Court. From the pictures on its website, it looks lovely. Quaint, bed and breakfast style, with a small courtyard in the back.
Saying goodbye to Heather was difficult. “You take care of yourself over there,” she said, tearfully.
“I will, promise,” I said, hugging her and trying my best to blink the tears back.
I had also gone home to visit my family before I left. Dalton, Georgia is a small, Southern town a little over an hour’s drive northwest of Atlanta. Known as the “Carpet Capital of the World,” with more than one hundred and fifty carpet plants, it’s where I grew up. My parents still live there, both working as managers at Meadowlands Carpets, a wholesale carpet outlet.
Dalton was a great place to grow up, a small town community where people passing each other on the street smile and say hello and are always willing to help out their neighbor. I had a happy childhood there. I’m the youngest of the family with two older brothers, Paul and Luke. For as nice a place Dalton is, I knew there was more out of there for me. I was lucky enough to get a scholarship to the University of Georgia, in Athens, Georgia, a very lively college town. After college it was time to move to the big city of Atlanta.
First Atlanta, now London. Not bad for a small town girl discovering the world.
My mother couldn’t have been happier for me. “Honey, I’m so proud of you,” she said, smiling, eyes shining with tears of joy. My mother is a crier. She cries when she’s happy, sad, hungry, angry. It doesn’t matter what she’s feeling, she will cry. During my visit she cooked my favorite meal – fried chicken, mac n’ cheese, and fried green tomatoes. I’m definitely going to miss her delicious Southern food.
I look down at my food in front of me now. The breakfast meal service had begun. It wasn’t bad, especially for airline food – bagel, cream cheese, orange juice and a granola bar. I sipped my coffee, hot and comforting. Not too much longer and we would begin our decent into London. I lean back into my seat, thinking about my new life ahead of me.
Life was going to be different now. I could feel it.
Chapter 4
I step off the escalator and into the baggage claim area. I brought three suitcases with me, trying my best to travel light. I figured I could buy whatever I didn’t bring with me once I got settled in.
It was busy, people anxiously waiting for their luggage, hoping the airline didn’t screw up and send their luggage halfway around to the other side of the world. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw all three of my suitcases coming down the carousel.
I felt a light tap on my shoulder and turned to see a man, mid-forties. His hair was cut very short, almost shaved, wearing a navy blue polo shirt and brown khakis. He stood in front of me, smiling, pleasant looking. He had a relaxed way about him that immediately put me at ease.
“Hello. Katherine Harris, I presume?” he asked. His accent is British, very polite and proper.
“Umm….yes,” I reply warily, uncertain of who this man is and what he wanted.
“My name is Antonio Berra,” he says, extending his hand. “Mr. Alex McCall sent me to collect you. Please, let me help you with your bags.” He bends down, picking up one of my bags.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t expecting to have transportation arranged. I was actually looking forward to a cab ride in one of those cute black London taxi cabs.
“Oh. Alex McCall sent you to pick me up?” I ask, frowning slightly. How did he know when I would be arriving? I thought.
“Yes.” Antonio replied. “The car is parked directly outside, Miss Harris. If you could follow me, please.” He began to walk towards the door, two of my bags slung over his shoulder, and pulling the other.
I followed Antonio towards a silver Mercedes sedan. He places my bag and the rest of my luggage in the trunk of the car and walks around to open the door for me.
“Thank you,” I said, sliding into the buttery soft leather seat, appreciating the luxuriousness of the vehicle. I wondered if Alex arranged airport transport for all of his new employees.
Not that I was complaining. It was a nice gesture. I just thought it was a little out of the ordinary. Maybe everything Heather told me about Alex was true. I pushed it out of my mind.
Antonio pulled away from the curb. “Your destination, ma’am?” he inquired, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“Coddingham Court, please. In Battersea.”