Page 3 of The London Chance

I shook his hand, smiling as I assessed his every detail with militant thoroughness. Chancellor Robbins was three inches shorter than my six two, slim bordering on lanky with short dark-blond hair, high cheekbones, and blue eyes that—no wait.

He had one blue eye and one brown eye.Huh. That was interesting. So was the hint of an infinity tattoo on his wrist under the cuff of his ruthlessly starched oxford shirt.

Oh…and he smelled amazing. Like expensive cologne and peppermint.

Based on appearance alone, I should have been relieved that he hadn’t oversold himself. He looked like his photo for sure, but a more—how can I say this nicely?—uptight version. The kind of guy you wouldn’t be surprised to learn folds and files his socks by color, irons his bedsheets, and squeegees the shower door after every use. Based on first impressions alone, I couldn’t quite picture this man being interested in rock ’n’ roll memorabilia or knowing the first thing about ’90s music. Jesus, maybe he seriously thought “Truly Madly Deeply” was the most perfect song of that era.

Crap, this might be a long dinner.

I released Chance’s hand when the waiter stopped by to take his drink order. We settled into the booth, sharing an awkward half smile before we tried conversation.

“How was your—”

“This is a nice—”

We chuckled at our timing and tried again with the same results.

“You go first.”

“No, you,” I insisted.

Chance licked his lips, reaching for his water just as his cocktail magically appeared. An espresso martini with three tiny coffee beans floating atop a foamy surface. My sister had this hypothesis that you could tell a lot about someone based on their drink order. She was a bartender in college, so she probably knew what she was talking about.

According to Molly, beer was safe, but lazy…unless you ordered local brew or certain IPAs. The same logic applied to cocktails and my martini, shaken not stirred with two olives, somehow indicated that I played it safe. More adventurous people ordered snazzier fare. She also said there was a fine line between being adventurous and pretentious. I didn’t think either description applied to Chance. He just seemed very…conservative. Like a banker or a barrister. But that drink order was promising, right?

I nodded absently when the waiter listed the specials of the day and promised to send fresh bread to our table before leaving us to peruse the menu in silence.

Chance lifted his glass in a toast. “Cheers. It’s nice to finally meet in person.”

“Cheers.”

He took the tiniest sip of his martini, shifting his gaze from me to the window as if to hide the sudden tint of color on his cheeks. Now, that was cute. And kind of boyishly adorable. It was a nice contrast to his prim and proper façade and made him look fun—the kind of guy I could joke around with about goofy music from a bygone era.

The illusion faded when he set his glass aside and fixed me with a careful smile. “How long have you lived in London?”

“Three years,” I replied.

“It’s a great city. I haven’t been here in a while, though.”

“Hmm. Your firm has an office here?”

Chance inclined his head. “A small one. I’m here to hopefully close a deal with a persnickety client that will give us a greater foothold in Europe.”

Ah, that explained the six-thousand-dollar suit and tie. Of course, I couldn’t talk. I’d come straight from work in my Saville Row best. I’d taken off my tie in an effort to appear somewhat approachable, and now I wondered if I should have kept it on.

“Good luck to you.”

“Thanks. So…um, is your office downtown?” he asked.

“Just down the street from St. Paul’s. Yours?” Oh, fuck, this was dull. I made a vow to change the topic ASAP.

“It’s in that general downtown area. I looked at the map and mistakenly thought walking from Piccadilly wouldn’t be a big deal. That’s where I’m staying. I think. Or somewhere close-ish.”

I chuckled at that. “It’s walkable if you don’t mind the rain. We’ve had a wet spring.”

Oh, great. And now we’re talking about the weather. Nice, Roman.

“I forgot what real rain is like. We haven’t had a drop in LA in months.”