I scrunch my brow and crane my neck to peek behind him, only to be assaulted by the sight—and smell—of someone’s rancid armpit. Sure enough, there’s a pram wedged between his arse and another passenger.
“Good,” I mutter, fishing my AirPods from my pocket and slipping them into my ears.
Turning back to the window, I watch his reflection, catching his soft scoff and the slight shake of his head as he turns away from me. Instead of music, I resume my latest audiobook, letting the narrator’s soothing voice drown out the sounds of sneezing, coughing, and—my personal favorite—crying infants.
Two stops later, we finally crawl into Leicester Square station. As I get ready to step off, I notice my charming newacquaintance is also disembarking. I find myself trailing behind him as he weaves through the crowd, heading for the escalator.
Women stare as he passes—of course they bloody do. But my attention is on the way his trousers hug his firm, spectacular arse.
Glorious.He might be totally up himself, but credit where it’s due.
By the time I reach street level, he’s disappeared into the sea of Monday morning commuters.
Another manic Monday begins.
Chapter Two
Gemma
The wind bites at my exposed skin, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake. I bounce on the balls of my feet, alternating between rubbing my gloved hands together and tucking them under my arms to stay warm.
Around me, people dart between the criss-cross pathways of Soho Square Gardens, heads bowed against the cold.
Lance’s Kiosk stands at the edge of the gardens, chipped brown paint peeling from the worn timber and revealing patches of bare wood. The smell of coffee and hot food drifts into the cold air, making my stomach grumble as I step forward to order.
“Morning, lass. How are you?” Lance booms in his thick, northern Scottish accent. I order my usual, double-tapping the button on the side of my phone to pay.
“Ecstatic, thanks, Lance,” I reply, flashing him an exaggerated grin.
He chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he slides over my apricot Danish and latte. “Thirteen pounds, love.”
My jaw practically hits the floor. “What thehell, Lance? That’s daylight robbery! It was ten pounds on Friday!”
He sighs, adjusting his woolen rounded cap. “Council’s hiked up their rates. Sadly, it’s me and my customers taking the hit. I’ve already lost four regulars, and it’s only Monday. I was hoping to upgrade my coffee machine and replace the display cabinet, but it doesn’t look like that’ll be happening anytime soon. In fact, it’s all looking a bit grim.”
My shoulders slump in defeat. “Bloody hell, Lance. I’m so sorry.”
Lance’s gaze drops to the ground before returning to meet mine. He forces a small, weak smile. I can barely stand it. He’s the sweetest man.
I’ve been frequenting his stall ever since I started working at Prestige Partners, stopping by for my daily Danish and latte every morning on the way to work. Rain, hail, or shine, Lance has always been here.
“Twenty-five years I’ve run this kiosk. Back then, a coffee was barely a wee two quid.” He removes his hat, scratching his bald spot. “I don’t know how you youngsters do it.”
“Honestly, Lance? Neither do we. Half my pay check’s gone before I’ve even paid rent.”
He nods, leaning in and crossing his arms over the counter. “But we don’t have a choice, eh? Can’t just stop living.”
“Exactly. Bastards.” I gesture to my latte. “Though I might have to start rationing my coffee addiction.”
Lance laughs, but it’s a tired sound. “You’d think with all these clever new gadgets, life would be easier. Cheaper. But it’s just more expensive, and no one’s happier.”
I shoot him a smirk. “I don’t know about that. Your coffee and pastries make me pretty happy.”
He reaches forward, gently holding my hand around my pastry. “As long as I get to see my regulars—well, for now, anyway.”
Pressure builds in my chest. Lance’s Kiosk is a large part of why people visit Soho Square Gardens, and I couldn’tbear seeing it go. It’s not just the coffee—it’s him. There’s a comfort in knowing that, even if you’re not looking forward to sitting at a desk all day, he’ll be there every morning to greet you with a friendly smile. The area without him would feel emptier, colder,barren.
“Hang in there,” I say.
