“That bad? Is it romantic trouble? Or the lord?”
“Both,” I grumble. I wanted to forget about my problems, but now he’s asked... “My father wants to marry me off to a woman I hate, and the man I think I fell in love with is an arsehole who I can’t get over.”
He gives me a wide grin.
“Okay then, we’re going to need some drinks to go with our lunch, aren’t we?” He gives me a gentle pat on the shoulder. I’m sure it’s in sympathy, but if I know Carter, he’s begging for some gossip.
We’re shown to a table and we place our drinks order. I don’t speak until we have them in front of us, and I take a long gulp of the cool lager before talking.
The horror and indignation on his face are amusing when I mention Fenella, whom he vaguely knows. Well, it would be funny if the situation weren’t so serious. But he agrees with me that asking Gabriel would be a way to get the information I want. He asks about Gabriel, and also Linden and Blaine, who were part of our friends group at Woodcourtt. I tell him that all I know is Gabriel has some big development going on in the extensive grounds of his house. It stalls him for a short while but he hasn’t forgotten the second part of my woes.
The food arrives, but as soon as the waiter is out of earshot Carter leans forward slightly.
“So tell me all about this guy you’re in love with.”
“I’m not in love with him.” I grimace and spoon up some food.
“That’s not what you said just now.”
“Slip of the tongue.” I take a mouthful of food to stop myself saying more, but Carter isn’t buying it, and before I know it I’m spilling the whole story out to him. Well, not all the details. He doesn’t need to know what it felt like to have my mouth round Nate’s dick, or how good it was to be buried deep inside him, but I give him the broad strokes. How I felt we’d made a connection, but then found out he was just playing me.
“What does he look like?” he asks, as if that’s important, but I can’t help smiling as I tell him about Nate’s build, his brown hair, and beautiful green eyes.
“You have it bad, mate,” Carter chuckles, and I look up from my plate ready to scowl at him.
My heart stops and I nearly drop my spoon.
“Fuck me,” I whisper as I look across the room and see Nate. I blink a couple of times. It can’t be him, not here in England. He’s thousands of miles away. Carter follows my gaze and then looks back at me.
“That guy looks a bit like who you’ve just described.”
“It is him,” I hiss. I have no idea what to do now. Nate is here and I never expected to see him again. I try to swallow but my mouth is dry. Then my stomach drops and I nearly lose my food as I notice that Nate is not alone.
CHAPTERTWENTY
Nate
So it turnsout Oxford has a college for just about everything, and one of those has a department of statistics, which ishandy.
I guess it makes sense, since apparently it’s the second oldest university in the world.
That’s just one of the facts I’ve learned about this place in the last month.
It was surprisingly easy to apply and get an acceptance letter for the masters in statistical science. Of course, it was also a surprise when, feeling like an idiot, I emailed some of my MBA professors asking for recommendation letters, and they not only answered but they gave me glowing praise.
I expected to be ignored at best, and more realistically to be laughed at, but apparently all of them understood that my behavior in class and around campus at Columbia wasn’t a reflection on my intelligence.
Iknew I’d gotten good grades of course, but I’d never expected the professors to know about them—that’s what their TAs are for—so that was a very nice surprise indeed.
Now, though, standing on a perfectly groomed lawn in front ofthebuilding, I feel like maybe Imightbe in a bit over my head.
I mean, this place looks fucking fancy.
AndI knowfancy.
Trust fund baby, born with a silver spoon in my mouth and another up my ass, and all of that, right?
But this...