“No, I’ve got another week until my flight home. I was thinking about seeing more of Europe, but I’m not sure where else I could go without adding another flight, which could get complicated…and pricey.”
“Scotland is very nice,” Flynn said. “You could also take the EuroStar to Paris.”
“What’s the EuroStar?”
“It’s a high-speed train that runs under the English Channel. It’ll take you from London to Paris in about two and a half hours.”
She stopped in her tracks, looking up at him. “I had no idea that existed, and I’ve always wanted to visit Paris. I might totally do that.”
“You should.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I think you’d enjoy it.”
“I think I would too,” she agreed, ideas unfurling inside her brain like one of the tapestries in Pippa’s restaurant. She could visit the Louvre, climb the Eiffel Tower, sit at a sidewalk café while she sipped wine and ate amazing cheese and pastries. Already, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else to finish out her adventure.
“Are you up for one more stop tonight?” he asked. “There’s someplace I’d like to show you.”
“Sure.” She ought to be exhausted, but she was too high on the excitement of the day to feel it. “Where are we going?”
“It’s right around the corner,” he told her.
“Okay,” she agreed easily. He hadn’t steered her wrong yet, and she wasn’t quite ready for their day together to end. They rounded the corner together, and Flynn guided her toward the entrance of a fancy hotel, tucked back from the street and grand in the way of many buildings here in London, like it was etched in history. The word Savoy was illuminated over the entrance, and it sounded vaguely familiar, although she wasn’t sure where she’d heard it before.
“The Savoy is probably the most famous hotel in London,” Flynn told her. “And it has one of the most famous bars as well. I thought we could stop in for a nightcap before I take you back to your hotel.”
A concierge in a black suit with white gloves held the door open for them as they walked inside. The lobby looked like it had been carved out of marble, glossy and important, its floor a patchwork of black and white squares like a chess board. She paused just inside the door, taking it all in, before following Flynn as he strode across the room like he owned the place. Briefly, she wondered if he did.
Then they were being escorted into another room, a lounge dotted with luxurious-looking leather seats and framed black-and-white photos on the walls. There was a piano near the rear of the room, at which a man in a black suit sat playing soft jazz music. Flynn gestured for Ruby to sit in a curved over-large seat meant for two. She slid onto one end of it, and he sat beside her.
“This is called the American Bar,” he told her as he passed her the drink menu. “And I didn’t bring you here because you’re American.” A smile touched his lips.
“No?”
“It’s a well-known spot here in London. A place to see and be seen, if you will. I thought it might be a nice addition to your adventure.”
Ruby darted a quick glance around the room. It was the type of place she’d never come on her own, fancy and expensive and exclusive. And it felt like the perfect place to wrap up this day. “It’s perfect.”
They ordered drinks while Flynn explained some of the history of the hotel and the bar to her. The black-and-white photos on the wall were all celebrity portraits, as glamorous as the room itself. As it turned out, the drink menu was inspired by the portraits. The cocktail she chose, called “The Debut,” was inspired by a photo of mother and daughter actresses Judy Garland and Liza Minelli, shot to celebrate Liza’s debut in showbiz.
Ruby thought it seemed fitting tonight, as she debuted this new side of herself. She sipped from her drink, feeling sophisticated and worldly in this posh bar with a handsome man at her side. If she squinted her eyes, softened her focus just a bit, she thought any one of the glamorous stars from the photos around them might walk into the room, brought to life in startling color.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Flynn said, sipping his own drink.
She grinned at him. “I’m just thinking how fancy I feel right now.”
“You look very fancy as well,” he told her, his gaze dropping to her dress.
Heat spread over her skin in its wake. Good God, she’d had a lot to drink today, between their champagne on the London Eye, wine with dinner, and now this. It was a lot more than she usually drank, but it had been spread out enough that she’d never gone beyond comfortably buzzed. Now though, she felt her inhibitions slipping away.
“Do you come to places like this often?” she asked.
“Truthfully?” His gaze locked on hers. “No.”
“Really?” That did surprise her. He had the money and class to do this every night.
“I actually prefer to leave the hotel world behind when I’m not working,” he said with an amused sort of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“What do you enjoy, then?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”
