Darcy groaned. “What dating life? I never meet people. If I wanted to date a horse, I’d be perfectly placed.”
“I like to think I’m open-minded when it comes to dating, but I don’t think going out with a horse should even be a consideration.” I grinned. I was pretty sure she was joking, but the more time I spent around the British, the more I realized anything was possible. “Come on, I’m sure I can find you a cute guy. You know I found your brother for Scarlett. I think I have a bit of a magic touch for these things.” I scanned the room. The lighting was dim and the walls a bronze color. There were no windows and the floors were black so it felt intimate and almost sullen, but it was small and the tables were close together so I could make out most of the other patrons. “What kind of guy do you go for?”
Darcy sighed. “Someone who’s not a total shit,” she said, in a way that said she didn’t think that should be a complete no-brainer of a requirement. As if she expected me to suggest she date a total shit if he took her to a nice restaurant, or was a good kisser or something.
“Okay. Any other criteria?” I asked.
“Well obviously someone who loves the country. I mean, I like town and everything, but my heart aches if I spend too long without seeing miles of green fields and acres of trees.”
“I’m sure we can find someone who likes the smell of cow shit.” I grinned and Darcy chuckled. “What about physically? What’s your type?” I narrowed my eyes, trying to take in all the men in the bar who looked potentially single and in the right age bracket. This was clearly some kind of Mecca for the good-looking and rich, because there were plenty of handsome men in expensive suits. I spotted the back of one man’s head that looked very familiar and my breath caught. Shit, Knightley.
I shouldn’t be surprised. This seemed like his kind of place—moody, with overpriced drinks. I pulled my shoulders back and kept my gaze fixed on him, waiting for him to turn around. Would he come over? I glanced at his companion, who was facing me. She was a beautiful blonde woman around my age who wore a very low-cut blouse. My gut churned. They looked like they were on a date. My pulse sped as he grasped the arms of the chair and stood. As he headed to the other side of the bar, I realized it wasn’t Knightley at all, but rather someone not half as broad, or tall, or handsome.
Fuck, I was imagining him.
What was the matter with me? I grabbed my glass and downed my cocktail, wincing at the burn of the alcohol in my throat.
“I like blonds,” Darcy said. “That floppy-haired, laid-back thing always gets me.”
I nodded. “Like that guy?” I lifted my chin to indicate a guy ordering drinks at the bar who wore a very loud pink shirt and a pinky ring.
She shrugged. “Maybe. But my life is the estate. There’s no point boyfriend hunting in London.”
“You’re only an hour away, and like you said, you’re not going to find Mr. Right on your doorstep. You don’t even have neighbors.”
The floppy-haired blond collected a couple of drinks and went to one of the tables on the other side of the bar where a taller, dark-haired guy was sitting who wasn’t wearing a tie or a jacket. He must have been the least formally dressed guy in the place. “Let’s just wait to see if that blond one is with a woman.” If he wasn’t joined by anyone, then it was Darcy’s lucky night. I might not be the world’s best waitress, but I could pick up a guy without any trouble at all.
“Any hot barristers caught your attention?” Darcy asked as I was staring at our two potential dates.
Knightley had definitely caught my attention. That brooding, English-hero thing he had going on worked for him. “I’m still scoping them out.” I grabbed the cocktail menu and wafted it toward my burning cheeks. Jesus, what was I so embarrassed about? Men never embarrassed me. “They all hide down this rabbit hole of a hallway. I don’t think I’ve even met them all.” I’d seen most of them at the meeting last night, though, but none of them had been as handsome as Knightley. Or had the same commanding presence. I shifted in my seat, trying to shake visions of a naked Knightley from my head.
I took a sip of my cocktail. “They’re definitely not waiting for anyone,” I said, refocusing on the floppy-haired guy and his friend. “It’s just the two of them at that table and neither of them have looked over at the door once, although they have scanned the bar, which makes me think they’re up for company.” I turned to Darcy. “Are you ready?”
She frowned. “For what?”
I wasn’t interested in getting to know either of these guys, which made no sense because I’d not kissed anyone since arriving in London. Tonight would be all about Darcy. “Bring your drink and follow me. There’s no point in going boyfriend shopping and not trying anything on.”
“You’re crazy.”
I stood and grabbed my cocktail. “Let’s have some fun. It’s my first night out in London, despite the fact that I’ve been here weeks. I need to make up for lost time.”
I strode over to the table where the two guys I’d been watching were sitting. “Hey, do you mind if my friend and I join you?” I acknowledged them both but my gaze lingered on the dark-haired guy. I didn’t want either of them to be under any misunderstanding as to who we’d allocated to whom.
“We’d be delighted,” the dark-haired one said, standing and offering me a seat. “Can I get you a drink?”
I shifted down the bench that he’d left warm. “Maybe in a few minutes. I still have my cocktail,” I said, raising my glass to him.
Darcy hovered a few feet away from the table.
“Darcy, let me introduce you to our new friends,” I said. “This is . . .”
The blond one stood and held out his hand. “Edward,” he said, ignoring me. There had definitely been a twinkle in his eye when he caught sight of her. Perfect.
“I’m Violet,” I said, as my allocated man sat down next to me.
“And how lovely you are, just like the flower.”
I managed not to laugh.
“My name is Reginald.”
I couldn’t hold back anymore and I chuckled. “Your name is not Reginald.”
“Well, no, but if it had been, it’s not very nice to laugh when someone tells you their name.” He grinned at me. “But I’ll forgive you, given you’re American. My name is James.”
“Nice to meet you, James.” I made up my mind about men I met very quickly. I liked men who knew how to fuck, otherwise I didn’t have a type. It shouldn’t have been a particularly high standard, but it wasn’t easy to find a guy who knew how to fuck me, and even when I did find one, he always wanted to cuddle afterward, or take me to dinner. I got bored very quickly—sometimes it took an evening, others a month or two, but it was never long before I went back to being single and unwilling to commit to anything for long. Knightley was probably the same way.