Page 11 of Love Affair in London (Once Again #12)

Though he’d slept on the flight, he couldn’t say he was one hundred percent in this time zone.

His work conference didn’t start until Wednesday, though there was a welcome reception Tuesday evening.

He’d arrived a couple of days early so he could do some sightseeing.

The rest of his team would arrive Tuesday.

Though it was a sales conference, he was the tech guy.

He’d never been a salesman, and as vice president of Engineering, he did the explaining, while everyone else did the selling.

He wondered if there was some sort of providence in his early arrival. As if he were meant to be here, to find her phone, to be the good Samaritan. And to have his first ever Sunday roast. With her.

She’d been as excited as a child. He imagined she was the kind of woman who still had a couple of stuffed animals on her bed. She didn’t wear a wedding ring, and there wasn’t a hint of a white line as if she’d taken it off. Besides, a hookup was the furthest thing from his mind.

Even though he couldn’t help noticing her.

The lobby wasn’t crowded, the slow period between people checking out and new arrivals checking in.

When she’d entered, moving fast across the marble floor, he’d seen her right away.

Having noticed her in the lounge and then on the flight, he’d wondered why she was traveling alone.

And now he wondered if the friend who’d canceled was a man or a woman?

He had all afternoon over Sunday roast to figure it out.

When she returned in ten minutes, he was happy to find she hadn’t needed long to freshen up. She’d colored her lips in a pretty plum shade and added blusher to her cheeks. But she’d left that windblown look in her hair.

Piper Alexander was a looker at any age.

He hadn’t dated since the divorce a year ago, wanting to concentrate on his job—which had been the major bone of contention in his marriage—and his two kids.

Teenagers still living at home, the divorce had been hard on both of them, and he wanted to be there when it was his week to have them.

Throwing a new woman into the mix wouldn’t cut it.

Erica, his ex-wife, felt the same. Neither of them had any serious relationships.

That didn’t mean he hadn’t sought female companionship for a little pleasure and release. Just nothing serious.

Piper stood in front of him. “Are you ready?”

He rose, and as a joke, asked, “Where’s your phone?”

Smiling, she patted the crossbody purse. “Zipped inside. I will be very careful about this phone from now on. After I take a picture—” She tapped the front pocket. “—I zip it away.”

He winked. “Good idea.”

She gave him a sideways look. “Where’s your phone?”

He touched the zipped pocket of his light jacket. Though it was June, it was still breezy. “Right here.”

“All right,” she said, smiling widely. “Off we go.”

Her fast pace surprised him. She was no sauntering matron, not that he had trouble keeping up with his longer legs.

“I want to check my GPS once we get across the bridge. I know the pub is on the other side, but I need to find the best route.”

After exiting the hotel, she skipped down the front stairs to the lower dock, skimming along the waterfront. She was like the Energizer bunny rabbit.

“Don’t you have any jet lag at all?” he had to ask.

She turned around, walking backwards to face him.

“Not yet. I want to stay up till nine o’clock.

That should put me squarely on London time.

” She faced front again, taking three steps up to the road, heading for the stairs to Tower Bridge.

At the corner, she stopped to talk to the Black man giving directions.

Unzipping her purse, she pulled out her phone, and beamed at him. “This man found my phone for me.”

The guy’s smile went wide, as if he actually remembered her. “Oh happy day.” Jared thought his accent was Cockney, though he wasn’t up on the nuances of British accents.

The man held out his hand to Jared, slapping his palm. “Brilliant, mate.”

Piper zipped her phone back into her purse, and with a wave, she headed up the stairs.

They both pushed closer to the side as a woman came down with her husband, hoisting a stroller with two babies.

He felt someone jostle him from behind, and he remembered what he’d said to Piper about pickpockets being more plentiful around tourist attractions.

He put his hand over the zipped pocket that contained both his phone and wallet.

She was damn lucky someone hadn’t nipped her phone out of her pocket.

At the top of the stairs, they walked side-by-side again as a steady flow of traffic passed by on the road.

Reaching the middle of the span, beyond the bridge’s first blue spire, Piper stopped, unzipping her purse.

“This is where I figured out my phone was gone. I wanted to take a picture of the Thames with the city in the background.”

“At least you figured it out quickly.”

The high-rises of London loomed in the distance. And maybe that was Parliament over there, too, though he couldn’t say for sure. The Tower of London sat on the right, and off to the left lay the HMS Belfast and the towering Shard.

After snapping a few pictures, she took one of him. “I need a photo of my good Samaritan.”

They continued on, dodging other tourists, though most people walked only to the bridge’s center span, then turned around.

Reaching the other side, she unzipped her purse, once again pulling out her phone.

She brought up her map app, then pointed straight ahead.

“It’s down there, right on this road.” She used hand gestures to show him.

She was a demonstrative woman, with wide smiles, big hand motions, and an excited voice.

“While I was upstairs, I made a reservation,” she told him. How she’d had time while fixing her makeup, he couldn’t say. “We should only have to wait twenty minutes or so once we get there. I don’t think that’s bad for Sunday roast.”

He found his mouth watering for Sunday roast.

But even more for Piper Alexander.