Page 25 of An American in London

“Like most people who have done it themselves: self-belief, hard work, and luck.”

“In hotels?”

He shakes his head. “No, tech stocks. I was a nerdy teenager. Started trading money on the stock market that I earned through my Saturday job at Halfords. Then I reinvested it and reinvested it. When I got to a hundred thousand, I told my dad and ...” He shakes his head, and a dimple on his right cheek appears. It makes him look younger than he normally does. “He completely freaked out. He’d opened the trading account for me because I’d been bugging him about it. He knew I had less than a hundred pounds, so didn’t worry too much—thought it would teach me a lesson about not spending what I couldn’t afford to lose. I’d started with ninety-two pounds.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. Looking back, I was so precocious.”

“A hundred thousand pounds is a lot of money for a seventeen-year-old.” I could barely remember seventeen. Those first few years without my mom are all a blur.

“I’d made a million by my eighteenth birthday.”

“Wow,” I say. “That’s impressive.”

He shrugs. “What about you? What’s the Daniel De Luca thing all about? Are you one of those crazies who hang around his film sets and try to break into his hotel room when he’s traveling?”

I smile. I suppose it must look like I’m obsessed with DDL. My fourteen-year-old self most definitely was.

Thankfully I don’t have to begin to explain because Edward returns with a large tray, placing our conversation on temporary hold. How strange that we’re about to pick out engagement rings, yet this guy doesn’t know much about me other than my coffee order. That’s going to have to change over the next few days.

Edward places the tray on the low table and starts to take us through the various settings and stones.

“Which one do you like?” Ben asks me.

There’s no ring in front of me I don’t like. They all gleam like they’re vying for my attention. I shrug. I can’t help but think back to my engagement. Jed presented me with his great-grandmother’s ring when he proposed. It was pretty enough, but it hadn’t been my choice.

“Why don’t you tell me the ones you like, and that will narrow it down,” I say. It feels wrong to be excited about all this beautiful jewelry in front of me. It’s not like I’m going to be keeping it. And it’s most important that Ben is happy. “All these feel a little overwhelming.”

Ben works methodically down the rings and picks out three. Three of the prettiest engagement rings I’ve ever seen. I might have seen bigger on the fingers of some of the wives of the people Jed worked with, but I haven’t seen nicer. I know my favorite without having to think about it.

Edward places all three on their own separate stands.

“This one’s pretty,” I say, pointing at the middle one.

“This is particularly beautiful—a yellow cushion-cut diamond in a double-halo setting,” Edward says. “Let’s try it.” He hands me the ring, and I slide it onto my left ring finger.

It looks bigger on my hand.

“I’m not sure,” I say, suddenly really uncomfortable. What the hell am I doing? I’m picking out engagement rings with a stranger. I’m here in London for work, not to pretend to be someone else.

“It’s beautiful,” Ben says. “Impressive without being gaudy, and classic without being boring.” His eyebrows are pinched together, and his expression is hard to read, almost like he expected to see something other than the ring on my finger. “I think this is the one.”

“Really?” I ask. “I’m not sure it’s me.”

He nods. “It suits you. It’s a little unusual.”

I laugh, and my anxiety ebbs away. “I’m unusual?”

“You’re definitely that,” he says. “You’re American, after all.”

“There are three hundred million of us,” I say.

“But not another one like you.”

Our eyes lock, and I can’t think of anything to say. It’s like he’s stolen the words right out of my mouth.

Chapter Ten

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