Page 29 of An American in London

My phone rings, interrupting a delicious dream I’m having about a very naked Ben, which I’m hoping is prophetic given I’m seeing him tonight for the first time since we came back to London. Squinting, I find the button to answer and then shut my eyes again.

“Hey,” I say, not knowing who I’m talking to.

“How’s my favorite Anglophile?”

“Melanie?” I ask, and I open my eyes. I haven’t spoken to her since before the weekend away, and we have so much to catch up on. “What time is it?”

“Time you were awake. There are sights to see, Daniel De Luca to track down. I have some intel. He’s on location, filming in Central London and staying at a hotel. Do you have a pad and paper?”

I sit up and glance around. Hotels always have a pen and paper somewhere, don’t they? “Hang on, let me find one.” I grab the flimsy pad of paper and pencil from by my bed and scribble down the name of the hotel where Daniel De Luca is supposed to be staying.

“I’ve missed you.” My old life comes tumbling back into focus. Sadness and relief mix in my stomach. “How are the girls?” I ask. “How were Friday night cocktails?”

“The same, and I don’t want to talk about them. I want to talk about you. How was last weekend? Did you pull off being fake-engaged to a stranger? How have I not spoken to you in five days?”

I hadn’t been deliberately dodging Melanie’s calls.

Not exactly. The time difference is definitely a factor, but I know in my heart of hearts if I’d wanted to speak to Melanie this week, I would have found a way.

Part of me—a big part—wants to keep this past weekend to myself.

At least until I can make more sense of it all.

I grin. “It was great. The duke and duchess were so nice and welcoming, and it wasn’t as intimidating as I expected. I probably made a thousand faux pas, but everyone was kind enough not to mention them.”

“You’re hanging out with the British aristocracy, boo. If Jed could see you now, hey?”

I rarely thought about Jed over the weekend, other than how different Ben is from him. I was far more focused on Ben. There wasn’t much space in my brain left for anyone else.

The truth is, I don’t care what Jed would think of me here in England, or at all.

“Catch me up on everyone. How’s Callie?” Melanie’s a part of me, but the other girls?

I’m fond of them, they’re fun, and it’s always great to catch up with what’s going on in their lives, but I can’t say I’ve actually thought much about them since I’ve been here.

It’s like they got washed away by the ocean on the way over.

“Well, Ginger thinks Michael’s about to propose.”

I’m genuinely shocked. They’ve been together five years, and there’d been no talk of marriage. “Really?”

“She’s just hit thirty and he’s nearly thirty-two. If they want to have kids, they better get on with it.”

“What, so you hit an arbitrary birthday and you have to settle down with whoever’s around? Dating as musical chairs—the music stops and you grab whatever’s left?”

Melanie pauses before she says, “It’s not like that. They love each other. They’re living together; they’re practically married anyway.”

“I guess. Except I was practically married to Jed, and look what happened there.” Ginger and Michael are a great couple.

Just because Jed and I didn’t work out doesn’t mean they won’t.

I’m not bitter either; I just see things more clearly now.

Jed and I were a great couple in lots of ways.

But we weren’t meant to spend the rest of our lives together.

“David spoke to Jed last week.”

I’m sure I should feel some kind of pain at the idea of Jed calling my best friend’s boyfriend, but I don’t. I don’t feel a certain way, but I’m not numb to it either. I’m certainly not in denial anymore.

“Do you want to talk about this?” she asks.

“Not really,” I say honestly. Not because I don’t want to dredge up old feelings, but because old feelings aren’t relevant to my life now.

Jed’s gone. I might feel differently when I get back to New York, but honestly, it feels like I’m over him.

It’s better like this. “Jed leaving was a shock. But I think he did the right thing. Beyond history, I’m not sure what we shared.

I’m realizing we weren’t connected in the way a couple should be.

The fact he could suddenly up and leave me and I didn’t have the slightest inkling means something between us was missing. ”

“You think you grew apart? Became like ... brother and sister?”

I shrug. All I can see is Ben at the moment. “I’m not sure we would have stayed together if it hadn’t been for my mother’s death.”

“Tuesday, men don’t stay because they feel sorry for women. Not for a decade anyway.”

I didn’t mean Jed stayed, more that I had. I was so afraid of losing someone again, I clung on well past the time I should have let go.

“Yeah, but we weren’t right together.” I think back to dancing with Ben in the walled garden—how in sync we were, how connected I felt to him physically and mentally. “I never felt Jed and I were a team. I could never read him like I can read—”

She’s going to think I’m nuts if I start comparing Jed to a man I met just a few weeks ago, but when I put them side by side in my head, all I can think about is how much more I feel for Ben than I ever did for Jed.

I like the way Ben doesn’t pretend to be an open book like Jed always did, while really keeping all his true feelings secret.

Ben is the opposite. He’s private and zipped up and keeps it all in, but if you pay attention and gently nudge the closed doors open, it’s all there to see.

He’s not pretending to be anyone he’s not.

“I never felt like I saw one hundred percent of Jed. Yeah, he was easygoing and charming and super friendly. He was everyone’s best friend within five minutes of meeting them. But that was only part of him. The rest he kept hidden. Even from me.”

“You think he’s a secret serial killer and the police are closing in, and that’s why he ran back to Iowa?

” She laughs heartily. But I can’t. Not because I think Jed’s got a trail of dead bodies in his wake, but because I think it’s so sad he would have proposed marriage to me and not felt he could show me his whole self.

There’s a knock on the door, and I spring to my feet. I don’t want to talk about Jed anymore, and I’m grateful for the interruption. “Hang on, I have to get the door.”

I open the door and am greeted with a huge bouquet of flowers. “Miss, can I bring them in? There are several vases.”

“Several vases of what?” Melanie asks. “What’s going on?”

I flatten myself against the wall as three porters bring in roses of every single color. I’m immediately transported back to the walled garden. There’s only one person who could have sent me these.

“Someone sent me flowers,” I say.

“Show me,” she asks.

I turn our call to video and point the camera to where the porters have placed the flowers on the dressing table in front of the TV. They’re wonderful. I scan the vases for a card before the porter hands me an envelope.

I tip him and they leave, the envelope growing hot in my hand.

“Who are they from?” she asks.

I open the envelope. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen his handwriting before. I love the way he exaggerates the “y” in my name, and in the word “lovely.”

“Tuesday?!” Melanie splutters.

“Ben,” I say as I read the note again to myself.

Lovely Tuesday

I’ll pick you up at seven.

B

My heart lifts up, up, up.

His first dinner with a woman, and my first first date in a very long time.

“Ben? The hotels guy? What, as a thank-you?”

“Maybe,” I say. “He’s taking me to dinner tonight.” I flip the phone around so I can see her face. Her eyes are as wide as the Hudson.

“Oh, so you and he ...” She pulls her mouth into a smile, sucks in a breath, and nods. “This is good.” She pauses. “Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing much to tell. I got to know him a little while we were away, and he asked me out and I said yes.” I’m understating it, but that’s all I want to share for now. I want to keep the rest between Ben and me.

“Don’t go falling in love with him and moving to London.”

I laugh along with her, but there’s no humor in it—at least, not for me.

I guess I’m feeling more ... open to possibilities in a way I wasn’t before coming here.

I’m dating someone new. I’m in a different country.

My future isn’t mapped out anymore, but instead of feeling terrified about losing my job and apartment and fiancé, I’m excited about what’s next.

But first, dinner.