Page 10 of From London, With Love

“Mia, are you still with me?” I ask loudly, fighting to be heard over Harper, who’s reappeared in the frame.

Before Mia can respond, Harper pulls her into the most passionate bear hug ever witnessed. Caught off guard only momentarily, Mia bursts into hysterics, her smile wide.

I have to fight to blink back the tears threatening to surface as I watch the ecstasy on the girls' faces. It cements that I’ve made the right call; I’m moving to London.

Once all composures are regained, Harper and Mia proceed to question me on every major and minor detail of my decision, including my family's reactions to the news.

“So you’ve mentioned your mum and brother were super excited for you, once your mum got past her initial concerns, of course. Have you told your dad?” Harper asks, a small note of hesitation in her voice.?

I smile weakly at the girls before answering. “No, not yet. It’s been a while since we’ve spoken. I’ll tell him when he calls next.” Even as I spoke the words, I didn’t truly believe them.?

The girls return my smile, nodding slowly in understanding. My father and I, while we love each other, have somewhat of a strained relationship. We have since I was old enough to understand the breakdown behind my parents’ divorce. You can’t help but see someone in a different light after learning the way in which they broke your family.?

Sensing the negative turn of energy, Harper chirps up and suggests we book my ticket to London right here on the call. The buzz of excitement we all feel right now is palpable. Fifteen minutes later, the call ends, and I have a one-way ticket to Heathrow.

Three months passed in a whirlwind of chaos. Between Christmas festivities, New Year’s Eve celebrations, farewells, and too many hangovers to count safely, time flew by in a haze.

As March rolled around and my departure date loomed, I began to pack. Thanks to Mia, I had a part-time job lined up for me at a new and used bookstore near my new home. I’ll be starting there a few days after I arrive. I still havenoidea what Mia told the owner in order for her to hire me, but when we spoke the other week, she seemed elated to have me.

You’d think it would be difficult to pack up your first apartment, but I didn’t experience that. Mum insisted it was because I still used my bedroom at home as a storage facility, but I prefer to believe I’ve succeeded in living minimally.

Except, of course, when it came to my library. Packing those suckers was an absolute nightmare, and I’m still concerned they won’t all make it to the UK safely. Bubble-wrapped and nestled between every sweater I own, four of the five suitcases accompanying me on my travels are filled with books. It was a challenge, but the smut made it on the plane.

Sitting in the departure lounge of Dubai Airport, I still cannotbelievethe adventure I’m embarking on—one hell of a whim decision.

The chime over the speakers pulls my wandering mind back to attention.?

“All remaining passengers of Emirates flight EK31 to London Heathrow are invited to board through Gate 52. Thank you.”

Looking down at my boarding pass, I take a deep breath.

This is it.

London, here I come.

Chapter 5

Carter

“Well, good morning, sir.”

“Dex, you bastard, cut your shit.”

It’s been two months since I took over as CEO of J. L. & Sons at the start of January, and I’ve had the absolute displeasure of beginning each of those days with my best friend greeting me as ‘sir’ the second he sees me every morning. I’m all for a bit of a dom/sub vibe every now and then, but preferably not from my best mate.

I turn my chair around and see him leaning against my doorframe, a cocky grin on his face. His piercing blue eyes glint with his grin; most women would kill for the thick lashes that line them. Having grown his beard out to a style reminiscent of Captain America in Avengers: Infinity War—and given that he shares the same hair colour as Chris Evans—my best mate looks every bit the heartbreaker. He’s 6ft 2 inches of muscle, so he practically takes up the entire doorframe.

“You’re very good-looking Dex, but you’re simply not my type,” I say calmly as he moves to enter my office. I close thediary I’d been meticulously filling out with the day’s meetings and to-do list.

“Yeah right arsehole, I’m everyone’s type,” Dex responds with a smirk, strolling in. He takes the seat across from my desk, propping his foot up on the corner like he owns the place.

What I wouldn’t give to wipe that smug expression off his face.

“You are one cocky son of a bitch,” I say with a grin, throwing his foot off my desk.

“Alright boss, what’s new?” Dex supports himself on his elbows, chin resting on his fists like an enthralled child.

Since my first day in charge, Dex has come to my office every morning to check in on me. Our meetings—using the term loosely—typically feature some shit-talking, followed by a review of the previous day’s work. We finish off with a rundown of what’s happening in the firm at present and then grab a coffee from the Pret down the street.

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