Page 5 of Love Affair in London (Once Again #12)

P iper and Juanita had chosen a booth in the back of the crowded restaurant, where the lunchtime noise level wasn’t earsplitting.

With their margaritas served, Piper continued her story.

“Roger stared at me with his mouth hanging open. I actually had to put my finger under his chin and shut it for him.”

“I still can’t get over that he wouldn’t tell the girls he was bringing you to Christmas no matter what they said.” Juanita, her very best friend in all the world, stared at her, much as Roger had last night. She’d listened to tales of Roger’s girls for a year and a half.

She and Piper had been friends for coming up on thirty years, since Piper had been an auditor at the company where Juanita was controller. That Juanita was ten years older than Piper had never affected their relationship.

“Tell me how you’re feeling now.” Juanita reached over to squeeze Piper’s hand just as the waiter arrived with their taco salads.

She and Juanita met at least once a week for lunch, their favorite being this Mexican place in Foster City near the San Mateo Bridge. The chatter of other diners actually drowned out the roar of jet engines from nearby SFO, and the food was the absolute best.

Piper tried to define her emotions for Juanita. “This will sound terrible,” she said, “but I’m actually relieved. The worst part was calling my friends this morning to say that tomorrow’s wedding is off. Roger said he’d cancel the venue and deal with all his friends.”

The wedding was to take place on the grounds of Roger’s country club, and the reception would be held in their ballroom, with the club handling the catering. Thank God they’d sent out the invitations telling everyone not to give wedding gifts or she’d have to worry about sending them all back.

“I wish you’d let me help with all that calling.” Juanita was to have been her matron of honor and was, of course, the first call Piper made last night after leaving Roger’s home.

At sixty-five, Juanita was a beautiful woman, her hair a gorgeous silver rather than matronly gray.

She’d married a wonderful man just a year ago.

George, a handsome Black man seven years her junior, had made millions when he sold his tech company, and Juanita had retired a few months ago.

Now they traveled to the best golf courses all over the world.

That’s how Juanita had met George, at a golf tournament.

“Thank you.” Piper moved meat around the big taco shell. “But I really couldn’t ask you to talk to all those people.”

“Do you think Roger will get most of the deposits back?”

Piper snorted a laugh. “At this late date, hardly.” Then she gave her friend a crooked smile. “You need some flowers for the house?”

Before another bite of spicy, fragrant taco meat, Juanita said, “I think you’re avoiding the question of how you really feel.”

Piper breathed in deeply. “I’m relieved I don’t have to deal with his daughters anymore. But I actually feel guilty that I’m not totally broken up. I mean, I was going to marry Roger tomorrow. I should feel devastated.” She looked at Juanita. “Shouldn’t I?”

“Those daughters of his made your life miserable. Whoever said you’re marrying not just a man but his whole family was right on the money. I’ve been so lucky with George’s kids. Probably because they weren’t raised to be privileged jerks.”

Like Piper, Juanita never had children of her own.

Her friend had been a career woman through and through.

Whereas for Piper it had never been an intention not to have children, but simply that it never happened.

She and Calvin, her first husband, had never pushed to find out which of them was the problem.

“I’m sure we would have been divorced within a year because of his daughters,” she admitted. “But I should at least feel something about losing Roger.”

“But this was never truly a love match. You two were good in bed and good friends.”

Piper didn’t want to be alone for the rest of her life.

She didn’t want to feel lonely the way she had since her divorce.

All she’d ever wanted from Roger was companionship and good sex.

That would have satisfied her, if not for his daughters.

But as her troubles with the girls grew—and Roger did nothing to help—even that satisfaction began to wane.

Now she felt like she’d dodged a bullet aimed not at her heart but straight at her head.

“That sounds terrible, though. That I was marrying him without loving him.” She’d cared about Roger. She’d wanted all the best for him. But she’d never known that giddy in love feeling with him. And she hadn’t really needed it.

“Stop blaming yourself,” Juanita said. “The way he let his daughters treat you definitely said something was truly lacking in the man.”

“I’m not blaming myself. Except that I let it go on for too long. If I’d confronted Roger in the very beginning, we might have worked things out.”

Juanita wagged her finger at Piper. “That definitely sounds like you’re taking the blame. He should have nipped that crap about the holidays right in the bud last Christmas. But Roger didn’t.” She stressed his name. “I want you to get over this guilt trip ASAP.”

“You’re right, I know.” But it still felt wrong that she wasn’t broken up over losing Roger.

Piper hadn’t been broken up over her divorce either.

She and Calvin had simply fallen out of love after twenty-five years of marriage.

They’d become more like roommates. Though she missed the good sex of her younger days, they might have gone on that way, but Calvin had wanted to sow the wild oats he hadn’t when he was young. So they’d parted ways.

Her lack of emotion made her feel fickle, as if she weren’t capable of love.

But, like Juanita said, she couldn’t dwell on it or she’d make herself crazy, even depressed. For now, she was glad she didn’t have to put up with the wicked stepdaughters even one more day.

“What will you do now?” Juanita prodded.

Her taco salad suddenly unappetizing, Piper flopped back in her seat. “I feel like this was my last chance.”

Juanita reared back. “Last chance at a relationship, you mean?”

Piper held up her hand as the busboy cruised by with a water pitcher. Then she sighed. “I’m fifty-five, and I’m not getting any younger.”

Juanita mock-glared. “Don’t be ridiculous. Look at George and me.”

But how often did that kind of love come along, Piper wondered. She had other friends either divorced or widowed, and they were in the same boat as Piper, alone and dating endlessly, never finding the right man. “You and George are a special case. That was serendipity.”

Juanita ran her finger around the rim of her margarita, then licked the salt off her finger. “Roger will be the one who misses you and realizes he made a mistake. And you will go on to find a best friend and an amazing partner.”

“You’re my best friend,” Piper immediately said.

Juanita waved a hand. “We can always use more friends. Especially if they’re deliciously handsome silver foxes.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “You’re smart and vital and alive. And very fun,” she added with a wink. “And you’ll find the perfect partner now you’re not strangled by Roger’s daughters.”

“They say that sixty is the new forty. So maybe fifty-five is the new thirty-five.” Piper made a face. “Although I’m okay with forty.”

Juanita raised her glass. “Here’s to the perfect partner. You are absolutely open to everything the universe offers you. Just like I was open the day I met George on the golf course. You’ll meet Mr. Right somewhere you least expect it. I feel it.”

The clink of their glasses rang out.

“But when I asked you what you’re going to do, I actually meant with your week off.”

Piper chewed her lip for a moment. “I haven’t even thought about it. Calling everyone this morning was all I could handle.”

Juanita raised one eyebrow. “You still have that ticket to London, don’t you?”

“I do. First class with a lie-flat seat.” She and Roger had booked an evening flight after the wedding. Knowing they’d be tired, they’d decided to take off right after the event and sleep their way across the Atlantic, leaving them refreshed the next day when they arrived in London.

“So why don’t you use it?” Juanita suggested. “You can tour London and do whatever you want.”

“All by myself?”

Piper never vacationed on her own. After her divorce and before Juanita married George, they’d taken trips together, to Spain, to Paris. She’d also gone on weekend trips with a few of her girlfriends. But a week-long vacation in a foreign country by herself? It just didn’t seem right.

Juanita, however, gave the idea life. “It’s the perfect thing. You can walk through Kew Gardens and watch the changing of the guards and tour the Tower of London to see where Anne Boleyn was executed.”

Piper shuddered. “I’d like to see the crown jewels, but some executioner’s block?

Not so much. A trip down the Thames to Greenwich would be wonderful too.

” She’d booked tickets for a few touristy things and it was too late to get a refund.

“Roger and I planned to see the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben.”

“And you can take the Underground anywhere.” Juanita egged her on. “Or the train. You could go to Bath. Or you can just stay in your hotel and lay by the pool all day long. Whatever you want.”

The more she thought about it, the more Piper liked the idea.

She could eat whenever and wherever she wanted.

She and Roger had planned to have Sunday roast at a pub.

She’d even found one that was touted to have the best roast beef and Yorkshire pudding in London.

“I could go for afternoon tea. A real British afternoon tea.”

Juanita shot her with a finger gun. “Now you’re thinking.”

“I was so busy making calls that I didn’t even think about canceling the flight.”

“It’s meant to be. There’s nothing stopping you.” Juanita’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Lots of walking, lots of sightseeing, lots of fantastic food.” She raised a wicked brow. “Maybe you’ll even get lucky.”

With only five minutes of thinking about what should have been a weighty matter, Piper was suddenly over the moon about the trip.

As Juanita recommended, she set aside her guilt over leaving Roger the day before their wedding. She would enjoy this trip for one to London. And whatever might happen there.