“I do my best.”
Liam smirks and takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to lighten the mood. “Well, it all worked out since I now have the time and the extreme honor of showing you around London.”
“Ah,” I say easily. “So really, your interest in me is just an elaborate means of procrastination. As a lady, I’m offended. As a writer, I appreciate your creativity and zeal.”
“I’m glad. And in the spirit of procrastination, which landmark would you like to see next?”
It takes the exact amount of time until we’re back at ground level for me to make my choice. Several bus stops later, we’re standing outside our newest destination.
“And here we have the Tower of London.” Liam extends his arm out like a proper tour guide, the fortress/palace standing formidably in front of us as Tower Bridge sits attractively off to the side. “A site not to be overlooked, it is the historic location of hundreds of years of wrongful imprisonment, overall general torture, and countless unjustified executions.” We both stay where we are, tilting our heads as we take in the suddenly morose-seeming structure. “Well then,” Liam says, turning chipper. “Shall we go in?”
“Yes, please!”
Two hours later, we’re now at the final sightseeing location, when Liam looks at me with a slightly uncomfortable gleam in his eyes. “I have to say, I’m a bit surprised that this is where you wanted to close out our tour. Given your slightly hardened exterior, I didn’t peg you for a royal wedding enthusiast.”
“I’m a three-dimensional character, Liam. My ice-cold heart is inlaid with layer upon layer of fairy-tale optimism.”
“So I’m discovering.”
Strolling deeper into St. Paul’s cathedral, Liam looks off towards the side, gazing up at the awe-inspiring glass windows as I determinedly walk to the middle of the space.
“What are you doing?” he asks when he eventually notices my position. I smile back at him and let my inner princess flag fly as I take a meaningful step forward towards the front of the church, clasping my hands up in front of me as I hold an imaginary bouquet of flowers. “You’re not doing what I think you’re doing, are you?”
I shrug and continue to smile angelically as Liam makes his way to my side with quickened steps. For my part, I continue on in my bridal procession, completely unbothered.
“Are you truly going to walk the entire length of the cathedral?”
“Yes, I am.”
“People are staring at you.”
“That’s fine.”
“You really going to do this? You’re fully committed to the idea?”
“Of course I’m committed. I’m at Princess Diana’s wedding venue and I’m supposed to not stage a full reenactment? You’re lucky I didn’t know we were coming here in advance or I’d be in a ball gown. Now, step away. You should be waiting up front.”
“Oh, excellent,” he chuckles, “so now we’re meant to be getting married?”
“You wish. As much as your accent and height give you a certain princely demeanor, I pictured you as the weakly abbot performing the ceremony.”
Liam grins, now seeming much more accepting. “I strangely agree with that casting choice.”
“I thought you might.”
And an hour later, we’re back at Juliette’s building, exiting the elevator and heading towards the studio with light steps and rosy cheeks.
“I have to say, this was probably the best day I’ve had in a long time.”
“Me too,” I reply. We reach the door, and I turn around with an easy smile. “Thank you again for showing me around. I don’t think I would have planned something like this on my own.”
“I was happy to.” Things turn quiet for a moment, the small hallway abandoned as we stand facing each other. “Do you think you can sell my aunt on the idea that your Vibefinder meetup took you out sightseeing?”
“Not sure if John the painter/comedian would be quite selfless enough to plan a date of that caliber. I’ll just tell her he and I went for drinks instead.”
“Not a bad idea. Say you went to Coach & Horses in Mayfair. You can tell her that John plays soccer on the weekends and goes out with old school friends every Tuesday and Friday. His parents split up when he was twelve, and his mother is still in London, but his father moved to Leeds. You had a good time at first, but he drank too much for your taste. And he despises the theater, an unforgivable offense.”
“That’s an impressive backstory. Where did it come from?”
