My Summer in London

Chapter Four

"Denim skirt, how typical," a pompous, goddess of a woman snidely remarked at my outfit. A little over five minutes in, this was the kind of haughtiness I was greeted with.

Sure, she was skinny and out of your mind beautiful, but fuck, she was the ultimate bitch of the highest denominator. She acted as if my denim skirt was criminal. There was nothing wrong with it. I liked my denims, with or without anyone's fucking approval, thank you very much.

Ignoring the bitch's malicious comments, I decided to stay close to Archer while his friends came and went, greeting him. Surprisingly enough, none of the women were friendly. Not a single soul with a set of boobs smiled at me. The guys Archer introduced? Heck, they all had sets of sunny smiles.

"Your people haven't heard of the word polite, have they?" I asked after a woman named Krissy gave me a death glare worthy of an Academy award.

"It's not usually like this, but women are the catty breed, aren't they?" He laughed as he casually flung his arm around me. "It's all right, love. I'll protect you from getting clawed or scratched."

His promise lasted about twenty minutes-twenty-five, tops-before the Krissy woman came towards us and threw a mega-tantrum to get his undivided attention. And sure enough, Archer had to take her somewhere to calm her down and hopefully inject some sense in her.

All on my lonesome while casually sipping my whiskey sour, I felt like the prime example of an outcast. Dressed differently than the rest with an American accent, I was sticking out like a sore thumb, and no matter how I tried to ignore the feeling, it couldn't be helped. It was like that movie Mean Girls when the main character had to eat lunch in the bathroom because everyone was too cruel to care for the new girl.

Scanning the crowd for Archer, I was beginning to wonder why he had gone with that pretty yet highly emotional woman. Just before I decided to take my leave in search of him, someone decided to join my company.

"You look as though you need rescuing from boredom," said the guy who was earlier introduced as Harvey. He was charming and carried a similar, flirty persona yet was lacking in the looks department. I supposed his personality made up for it.

I wasn't necessarily bored, but maybe in dire need of rescuing from looking like an epic loser.

"It's kind of you to notice." Sending him a genuine smile, I took a quick sip of my beverage before directing my gaze at him. "What was that all about?" I asked.

Harvey shook his head before giving an amused laugh, as if the mini-meltdown scene everyone had witnessed was the norm. "That is what a jealous-minded ex-girlfriend looks like."

"Should I be on the lookout? 'Cause I need to prepare myself, you know."

His grin grew wide before lightly tapping his chest. "You're safe with me."

Our conversation came to a screeching halt when someone appeared by my side and intruded. "Harvey," the man uttered in a commanding tone.

Harvey made some mumbling excuse about needing to light a fag and left me to my own devices.

Confused at the sudden way Harvey left, I looked up from the booth that I was sitting in to find the stunner himself.

"I'm surprised to find you alone," he drawled in a husky tone. "Why has my brother abandoned you, pray tell?"

I wasn't necessarily alone up until he got here and shooed poor Harvey away. Was Harvey scared of him or something? Because the poor guy just scampered as if he didn't want to get bitten with venom.