“Just suffering from jet lag, if you can believe that. Have a wonderful day, Iris.” I hang up.
I change into a pair of comfortable shoes, and then I hold my hand out to Olivia, and we go for a walk.
We walk from Chelsea all the way down to Southbank along the river paths. We pick up fish and chips wrapped in newspaper from a takeaway shop near the bridge. We eat while we walk, and we eat on a bench, and I get tartar sauce on my shirt and don’t even care because Olivia wipes it off with the tip of her index finger and then sucks it off her index finger while staring at me.
She is naughty, she can do the splits, and she challenges me, and I don’t know what I was so afraid of. Loving her is the easiest thing in the world. At least, it is on the day she had my cock in her mouth twice.
I might be tired.
I’m tired.
We will definitely be taking a cab home.
But not until we ride the London Eye and whatever else this magnificent creature wants to do tonight.
Yes, we have to drive to the Cotswolds tomorrow. Yes, I have a meeting with Merrick. No, I don’t feel prepared for that meeting. But I don’t think I would have said I felt prepared to come all over Olivia Montogmery’s tits three hours ago either, and I crushed that.
The sun won’t set for hours, and I’m hoping we’ll be at home, in bed by then—fuck the protocol. But it does feel like a summer evening. There are a lot of people out, but it’s relaxing down by the Thames. And not just because I came twice today. It’s very pleasant here. I’m glad we aren’t inside a posh restaurant in a posh neighborhood.
When we’ve finished eating, we stroll down to the Queen’s Walk, hand in hand. Olivia poses for pictures with Big Ben in the background. I ask a total stranger to take pictures of us in front of the London Eye—and I have never asked a stranger to hold my camera before. Never.
There’s a busker playing a keyboard on the other side of the Ferris wheel, in front of the railing. Olivia leads me toward him. He’s playing the intro to a song that I know by heart now, but it takes Olivia a few seconds to recognize the waltz.
She gasps. “I danced to this song!”
“I know. I was at the recital.”
Her jaw drops. Her mouth isn’t as wide open as it was when she took me into it, but she issurprisedthat I remember. “I can’t believe you?—”
“I remember everything about you, remember?”
Her lower lip quivers, but she starts to sway. She doesn’t get down on the ground to pretend she’s asleep, but she does the waltz steps, the glissades, the jumps. I learned all the ballet terms two years ago. I film her with my camera. It’s very different, seeing her do this as an adult woman, but I feel that shiver of recognition. That knowing that I’m on the right track and with the right woman. The only woman.
I put my camera away and hold my hands out, silently asking her to dance with me.
“Really?” she says. “Now?” It’s the same surprised tone I used earlier in my garden. There are a lot of people around, butthey’re all minding their own business. “I didn’t think you were the type who likes to dance.”
“I’m not the type who likes to dance, Olivia.” I snake one arm around her waist and hold her hand with my other hand. “Only for you.” I pull her in closer. “Only you.”
“Do you know the name of this song?” she asks quietly.
I wait for the busker to play the chorus before singing softly into her ear.
“Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee.
Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Lulled by the moonlight have all passed away…
That song?”
I pull back to look down at her. She barely nods, looking so confused. She doesn’t even look mad about the fact that she’s so confused by me. “I can’t believe you remember that recital.”
“A number of memorable things happened today, Olivia. But I’ll definitely rememberthistoo.”
CHAPTER 19
