Last week I’d bought a super-cute black cocktail dress from a shop in Covent Garden. I’d seen it in the window when I’d first arrived and almost pressed my nose against the glass I wanted it so badly. It had taken three weeks of paychecks, putting a little bit of money aside each week, and I’d finally been able to afford it. I couldn’t remember the last time I saved up for anything, but as I’d got it home and slipped it on, I knew it had been worth it. I wasn’t one to show off my boobs but with the neckline on this dress there was no choice, and the V thinned toward the bottom so that it hinted at something rather than shouting it to the world. The black fabric had a shimmer to it and the loose skirt and the spaghetti belt all added up to casual glam.
London had been all about new experiences. Tonight I had a date with myself.
Alexander
This was either one of my better ideas or one of my worst. Violet had told me she was coming to the spa by herself, but that could have changed—she’d have no reason to update me. I didn’t know the whole story about the company she’d been involved with, but after she left I’d read the article she’d poured over in my copy of the Financial Times. It was an IT company founded by some guy at MIT. She’d said she’d been involved with the company, but the defeated look in her eye and her slumped shoulders after she’d seen the piece made me think that there was more to the story. What had happened that she was involved with a company about to float for a hundred million dollars, but she’d been working as a waitress? She’d said she needed distraction this weekend, and she’d seemed so unlike herself that I wanted to do something. And she had invited me, even if she’d been clearly joking. I’d thought that my turning up might be a good idea. My encounter with Gabby last weekend had been swirling around my brain all week. The things she’d said about my relationship with my father had been off base, but the fact was that three years had gone by and I’d barely noticed, hardly looked up from my desk. I didn’t think I’d left London once since I’d moved into the hotel, and I certainly had no memories of doing anything that wasn’t connected to work since my time with Gabby. Taking the evening off to have dinner with a beautiful woman seemed overdue. Now I was here, waiting for Violet, it felt like a ridiculous thing to have done. I should have at least called her to ask if it was okay. It wasn’t like we were dating. Or even fucking. It was just that I’d felt something shift between us as we shared dinner in my office together. Like maybe we were friends as I’d jokingly said to her. I didn’t have many benchmarks to measure friendship by, but I liked Violet.
I shifted in my chair at the bottom of the staircase of the hotel, clasping my hands on the arms and then linking them in my lap. My plan was to intercept her on the way to the dining room and ask her whether or not she wanted to move up our date. Hopefully she wouldn’t think I was an idiot. If she did, I was pretty sure she’d tell me. I chuckled at the thought.
Who the fuck was I becoming? I’d taken the night off work when I was already behind on my preparation for court next week, and I’d worn a Prada suit for her. I should probably head off before I made a complete fool of myself. I stood, thrust my hands into my pocket, and headed toward the door.
“Knightley?” Violet called from behind me.
I was too late.
I turned and glanced up the stairs.
“Alexander, is that you?” she asked, grinning as she came downstairs, her long legs moving elegantly, her skirt hitting her mid-thigh in a teasing, tempting way.
This woman.
Her smile grew as she came toward me and I couldn’t help but smile back, her infectious positivity relaxing me.
“What are you doing here?”
The curve of her neck, just visible beneath her wavy hair, and the subtle scent of jasmine left me breathless.
She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
“You said you needed distraction, so I’m here to take you to dinner—unless you have other plans. You agreed to a date, after all.”
She grabbed my wrist as her eyes widened. “Brilliant! As you’d say in England.”
I offered her my arm and we headed toward the dining room.
“You came all the way to have dinner? That’s so nice of you.”
“I think you might just be worth it,” I said. I couldn’t ever remember thinking that about a woman before. Even with my wife I didn’t remember doing anything just because I wanted to make her happy.
Violet stopped abruptly and I turned to look at her.
“I just want to say that you being here, it’s really thoughtful. Thank you.”
She didn’t think I was a lunatic. It was good to know my judgment wasn’t entirely off. “I’m looking forward to having dinner with you. As I said, I like talking with you.”
She grinned and squeezed my arm and we continued to the dining room.
“Isn’t this incredible?” she asked, glancing around as we took our seats. “I hardly read a page at dinner last night, I was so taken with this little hobbit house.”
The ceiling of the dining room was low and, like the walls, was beamed and uneven. Most likely, the building was still the original wattle and daub. To me it looked like a thousand places I’d been to before, but it was nice that Violet was enjoying it.
“Is the food good?” I asked.
“Sure. I mean, if I don’t have to serve it, food always tastes better.”
“Were you really a waitress back in New York?” I asked as I placed the napkin in my lap and took the wine list and menu from the waiter.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you. I just don’t understand it.”
“For four years.” She shrugged and scanned the menu, her hair tumbling over her shoulders. “I wanted a job where I could enjoy my life.”
It seemed so strange to me that a woman as clever and charming as Violet could be happy waiting tables. “And waitressing allows you to enjoy life?” I asked.
She put her menu down and looked at me as if she were really considering the question. “Yes and . . . no. I guess I thought it would.”
There were a thousand things she wasn’t saying that were hidden just beneath the surface of her words. But I was used to getting people to tell me the truth of a situation. I wanted to uncover all those secrets.
“What did you want to do when you started college?”
“I wanted to have my own business. I majored in computer science, so it gave me a lot of options.”
“Are you ready?” I asked Violet as the waiter approached. “And of course, you’re going to pre-empt my order, don’t forget.”
Violet didn’t even look up. “Oh, you’ll go for the venison, for sure.”
I turned to the waiter. “Apparently, I’ll have the venison.”
“I think I might have that as well. I’ve never tried it. Is it good?”
“It depends.”
Violet shook her head at me. “Don’t be too enthusiastic.” She turned to the waiter. “I’ll have the same. When in Rome and all that.”
“And you’ll have some red wine?”
“Only if you get a bottle. I don’t drink it by the glass,” she said, in a put-on English accent.
I tried not to give her the satisfaction of a smile and instead ordered something that looked like it might be halfway decent. The wine list wasn’t great, but the company more than made up for it.
“So you were telling me about what you wanted to do when you were at university.”
She shook her head. “Nothing more to tell.”
“You just decided to change ambitions from computer whiz to waitress?”
“Sure.” She reached out and shifted the salt and pepper so they were touching each other. “What did you want to do at college?”
“Become a lawyer.”