The Survivors

Chapter Eleven: Intercontinental, pt. 2

Cole was determined to pull out all the stops. In his mind, he had exactly one chance with me, and this was it. He wasn't going to miss it.
 

I played dumb when we arrived at the Savoy and he upgraded his hotel room to a suite, paying out of pocket for the expense since his company would only pay for the regular room. He would act surprised when we got to his room and found that there was a foldout couch there. His company always treated him so well! Maybe I should think about staying?

    I also pretended not to notice the plethora of—I assumed—work calls he ignored on his cell phone. Concerned that I was getting him in trouble, I probed his mind for more information about the meeting. It seemed like he was not neglecting any responsibilities, so I let it go.

    I decided to stay with him. I would be out first thing in the morning anyway, and it would force me to lie down and pretend I was sleeping, something that would likely be beneficial to me in my current state. But I would have to purchase some things on our outing—he was going to go shopping with me—including but not limited to real pajamas.
   

Cole changed into nice jeans and a retro-feeling Thom Browne cut and sewn shirt with a Zegna sweater over it, a casual Theory blazer over that. Aside from the time I had seen him in a towel, I'd never seen him in anything but a suit. He looked so normal, so relaxed, in his jeans. He was also very stylish, which I appreciated.

    Cole was more fearless than he had been months before in Tupelo. He was being forward. I'd hear him think about the consequences of each comment before he made it, wondering how much he could get away with without alienating me or offending me. He counted the hours until I had to be back at the airport, and reminded himself over and over again that that would be how much longer he had with me until I was likely gone forever. Unless he acted. So he acted.

    He guided me through stores with his hand gently on my back. He made a joke, and I laughed, and he stroked my face. He slid his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him, and once, he placed a quick kiss in my hair. I pulled away, casually, but it might have been out of concern over my behavior more than over his: I liked the attention more than I cared to admit.

  Cole Hardwick was exactly what I wanted. But he wasn't who I wanted.

    He had offered to buy me a few things while we were out, but I refused. I knew for a fact that I had more money to waste than he did. I also knew he would have gone into debt to make me happy, and I couldn't let him do that. I understood that feeling; I would have done anything for Everett. This was another reason to keep Cole from buying me anything: My heart was in another place.

    "At least let me take you to dinner," he argued as we emerged onto Knightsbridge.

    I relented. "Fair enough," I said. "Where do you want to go?" I hadn't eaten at all in Seattle, so the idea of food was not so intimidating.

    "Anywhere your heart desires," he said, his charming smile working hard to melt me.

    "You pick. I don't know London," I said. This was untrue. For one thing, I had been here several times before. For another, I remembered everything I had ever heard or read about it, and I had a mental map of every place we'd walked past or driven past since we left the airport. Still, I wanted him to pick.

    "Well, we could see if the concierge can get us good reservations..." he began.

    I held up my hand. "No, no. I don't want to go anywhere you'd have to change back into your suit for. I like this version of you," I said, tugging on the lapel of his blazer. I shocked myself at how casual, how flirty my words and actions were. He smiled.