April
Our bellies were full, and the day was gorgeous. I’d never been to London before and, like anyone who’d only been exposed to a place through movies and TV, I’d had the most cliché image of the place in mind—cloudy skies, misty air, maybe even some fog rolling through the streets.
But the afternoon was anything but that. It was bright and sunny, not even a single wisp of a cloud in the sky.
“OK, Will,” I said, her hand in mine as we made our way down the curving street in Kensington. “Let’s hear it—what’d you think of the grub?”
We’d had a big lunch of Indian food—curry and naan and mango lassis and all the rest. I was stuffed, so stuffed the only thing I could think about was getting back to the hotel and taking a nap.
She furrowed her brow into an expression of serious concentration, giving the matter major thought.
“It was…” Willa had been skeptical from the moment we’d stepped into the little hole-in-the-wall Indian place—cheap and cheerful, as the owner had called it. “I think it was pretty good.”
I grinned, glancing down at her. “Just ‘pretty good’? Will, you ate more than I did.”
“No, I didn’t,” she said, a tinge of protest to her voice. “I was just really hungry.”
She’d been dead-set on burgers, not wanting to venture out of her culinary comfort zone. But I knew she’d liked the food more than she was letting on.
“And how about the mango lassi? Wasn’t that awesome?”
“It was tasty.”
“Is that why you drank two of them?”
She looked up at me and screwed up her face in a totally adorable way. That was my sign that I’d won the little debate, so I let the matter drop.
As we kept on, I spotted a tall, well-built man in a double-breasted suit approaching us down the sidewalk. He had a shaved head and a trim face, his expression one of concern. And his eyes were locked onto me.
He drew closer and closer, raising his hand to chest-level and hailing me. Part of me didn’t want to stop, wanted to blow past him and get back to the hotel. But he cut the distance between us so quickly that I didn’t have a chance to even think about crossing the street.
“Ms. Flowers?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of me and Willa. “And little Miss Willa Ryder?” His voice was a rough, almost Cockney accent.
The expression of concern vanished, replaced with a disarming smile. Now that he was close, I could make out a smooth swoop of a scar across one of his cheeks.
“Yes,” I said, Willa’s hand still in mine. “May I ask who you are?”
“I’m with your employer, Jason Ryder.”
“Dad?” asked Willa. “Is he here?”
“Not here, my dear,” he said. “He’s with my boss. He’s going to be a little while, and he sent me to find you both and take you to him. I was just on my way to your hotel when I spotted you both down the way.”
Another disarming smile.
“Figured you wouldn’t be too keen on making the trip on your own. It’s just few minutes away from here, if you don’t mind me escorting you.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. Jason had come here to meet with some business associates, and this guy looked on the level. Of course I didn’t know what sort of business associates he was there to meet.
“Let me check with Jason,” I said, reaching for my phone in my purse. “Let him know we’re coming.”
The man shook his head. “I wouldn’t bother, love. Mr. Ryder’s in a meeting presently—doubt you’d even get through. Come on, I’ll take you to where he is.”
“I want to see Dad,” said Willa, looking up at me. “Especially if he’s going to be in a meeting all day.”
“You’ll be seeing him in a few minutes,” he said. “My name’s Lenny Hampton, by the way. Rude of me to not introduce myself straightaway.”
He nodded toward a narrow side street that led through the block.