Vivian smiled. “I’m not talking about Richard. I’m talking about you. It’s your first Pearl Gala as CEO. Aside from a few youthful indiscretions and the speculations about your love life, you have a flawless reputation. You’re a good guy. People like that. You’ll give a speech about how much London means to you and how you want to give something back to the people, and then you’ll announce the organisation you’ve decided on. It’ll be fantastic. People will love it, and it’ll give the press something new to talk about.”
“We’ve never done it like that before,” I replied dryly.
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“I don’t think it’s such a bad idea,” my mum added.
I unfortunately didn’t think so either, even though I wasn’t keen on standing in front of a horde of journalists and being subjected to an assault of camera flashes. But I’d do it. I would have done pretty much anything for the hotel. And if there was one thing I wanted, it was for the Pearl Gala to be a success. It was exactly what the hotel, its employees, and I needed: a glimmer of hope and a reminder that The Darlington was more than just my dad’s scandals.
15
Good morning. I hope you slept well. I’m afraid I had to go to the office, and I didn’t want to wake you. You can order breakfast, or take cornflakes and milk from the kitchen.
Note from Henry to Kate
Kate
I leapt up in a panic. Even before I was fully awake, a sense of dread washed over me, accompanied by a familiar tingle that told me that something was wrong. Something was different...
... Everything was different.
I wasn’t in St. James’s Park. And I wasn’t lying under a pile of blankets, with twigs from last night’s storm tangled in my hair. I was at The Darlington, the most luxurious hotel in London, lying in the softest, warmest, cosiest bed of all time. It hadn’t been a dream. I was really here. Henry had picked me up from the park in the middle of the storm and let me shelter in his penthouse.
My heartbeat slowed as I pieced everything together. Taking a deep breath, I surveyed Henry’s guest room, which was probably bigger than most London apartments. I hadn’t figured out how toclose the blinds, and the bright poststorm sun streamed into the room. I squinted against the resplendent blue of the sky. According to the digital alarm clock on the bedside table, it was already past ten. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so long. I usually woke to the sound of early morning joggers or, at the very latest, to the hum of rush-hour traffic. But today, nothing and no one had disturbed me—not even Henry.
A part of me wanted to stay put and savour the snug bed for as long as possible, but most of me wanted to find Henry. I headed to the bathroom and slipped into the clothes I’d washed the night before in the bathtub. The heating had dried them overnight. I brushed my teeth and then stuffed the hotel shower gel and shampoo into my rucksack. They smelled amazing, and I figured that Henry wouldn’t leave them for the next guest, given that I’d already used them. They’d probably just end up in the bin.
I shrugged on my rucksack and unlocked the door. The open-plan living area seemed even bigger in the daylight, perhaps because of the incredible view visible now that the clouds had cleared. I could see Westminster Bridge and Big Ben, and the Thames sparkled below in the sunlight. It took my breath away. After a moment, I remembered that I was looking for Henry.
I turned on my heels. “Henry?”
When no one answered, I turned my attention to what I assumed was his bedroom door. It was open. I approached it cautiously and knocked, but I was met with silence. It looked like he was gone. I didn’t know what to make of the fact that he’d left me—someone who’d stolen his phone—alone in his apartment. The man was a complete mystery to me. He confused me in a way no one had before. Especially last night. I replayed the memory ofhow he’d cooked for me in his T-shirt and jogging bottoms. The sight of him had sparked a heat in me that I hadn’t felt for a long time.
I glanced around, unsure of what to do now. My blankets were probably still with the laundry service. Should I wait here? Crossing the room to the kitchen, I spotted a note next to the sink. I picked it up and squinted at the scrawl of writing. What the hell did it say? Something aboutoffense. Or was itoffice? And something that looked likebreakfastandmilk. Beyond that I couldn’t decipher much, except for Henry’s signature. Oddly, it was neater than the rest of the note. So maybe he was at his office.
I decided to wait for my blankets. There was nothing else to do. I scanned the kitchen, found the cornflakes, and poured myself a bowl before settling onto the sofa. Beside it stood a DVD shelf holding no fewer than twenty copies ofLondon Has Fallen, a Gerard Butler film. Odd.
My gaze wandered from the shelf to the breathtaking view. I snuggled up in a blanket that lay on the sofa and ate my cornflakes, enjoying the warmth. The sun was shining, but I suspected a biting cold awaited me outside. I knew whatever came next wouldn’t be as idyllic, safe, and peaceful as I felt right now. I should have been making the most of it, but instead a creeping bitterness and envy was taking hold. Henry had so much, and I had so little. It wasn’t fair. I knew that it wasn’t his fault that he’d been born into wealth. But it wasn’t my fault, either, that I was the product of a one-night stand and the daughter of a drug addict who had died of an overdose.
The sound of the apartment door jolted me from my bleak thoughts. I turned on the sofa, expecting to see Henry, but instead, a young woman stood in the doorway. She had plaited blond hairand was wearing a dark uniform with a name badge I couldn’t quite make out pinned beneath the embroidered Darlington Hotel logo. Her features were pretty, the expression on her face mirroring my own surprise. She stood rooted to the spot, staring at me as though uncertain of her next move. That made two of us.
“Hey,” I said, waving awkwardly.
“Hi,” she replied and stepped tentatively into the room. She pulled in a cart bearing various cleaning products behind her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here. Mr. Darlington is usually at the office at this time.”
“Yes, he’s at the office. Or is committing an offense.” I smiled, but my joke was met with no more than a tired frown. “Forget it. Are you returning my blankets?”
“No. I’m just here to clean. Should I come back later?”
I looked around at the apartment. It seemed pretty spotless to me. “No, don’t let me stop you. I’m just waiting to get my things back from the laundry.”
“It’ll probably take another two or three hours.”
“Oh, OK. Then I guess I’ll make myself at home,” I said, wishing Henry were here. It felt strange to be in his apartment without him.
The woman, who looked only a couple of years older than me, pushed the cleaning cart into the kitchen and wiped down the already pristine kitchen counters. I watched her for a moment, but the silence between us felt strange.
I cleared my throat. “I’m Kate. What’s your name?”
