TORN

Chapter 2

The flights finally landed at London Heathrow Airport (LHA) around 3 pm GMT (that's about 10 am EST), jolting Zena awake. Jet lag is going to kick my butt tonight. She quickly grabbed her luggage and headed to the front of the airport. A tall, athletically built, Caucasian male who looked to be about thirty. "Hello, Mr. um... Cobalt?" Zena said taking a closer look at the man's name tag. "I assume you'll be taking me to my hotel." The young man smiled and nodded.

"Yes I am, and you can call me Jeremy, Mr. Cobalt is my father," he said with a laugh. "I assume you're Zena Alexander?" Jeremy flashed a wide smile and his eyes seemed warm and inviting. Zena nodded and he led her to the black SUV. "So where to Ms. Alexander?" 

"134 George Street please and thank you. And you can call me Zena."

"Sure thing." 

"Where are you from? If you don't mind me asking?" Jeremy laughed and Zena's heart fluttered.

"Originally from Belgium, but I moved here when I was about 17 for uni and never went back. London is the pace of opportunity. It's the New York of Great Britain." Jeremy took two roundabouts before entering the highway to the downtown area. After talking about what London is like, Jeremy's reason for not returning home, Zena's main reason for visiting, and how her flight was, they finally arrived at their destination.

"We're here kid. Have a wonderful stay. If you need anything, anything at all, give me a call anytime," Jeremy said handing the businesswoman his card as she got out the car. Being the gentleman he was, Jeremy carried Zena's bags to the hotel lobby, visibly struggling but doing so none the less.

"Thank you, Jeremy. I'll be sure to give you a call if I ever need anything. I may even use you in my journalist piece." Both smiled.

"No problem, I'd love to give my two cents on the city that is London," Jeremy said as she pushed the cart into the front lobby. "Oh and Zena." He caught her attention. "Welcome to London," he said flashing his perfectly white teeth.

"Thank you." Zena pushed the luggage cart through to the concierge check-in desk. Well, he's one to keep around. London, I see what you're doing.

"Hi, reservation for Zena Alexander." The concierge checked his computer to verify and smiled as he handed her the room keys, directing her to the elevators. Leaving the luggage cart with at the front desk, Zena smiled thanking him, taking her purse and recording equipment off the cart and head to the elevators. Room 900, that's pretty high up. Zena walked to her room located in the corner. The large room was equipped with a master suite, a twin bedroom, a full kitchen, and a living room, along with a joining suite with the same set up for Zena's assistant and best friend, who will be checking in in a few days. The DIY queen in the working woman came out as she rearranged and transformed the twin bedroom into an office.

Midway through her bedroom to office transformation, there was a knock at the door signaling Zena's luggage had arrived. Zena unpacked, then broke in the hotel room the only way she knew how: jumping and flipping on the bed. After almost falling off the bed, she pulled out her phone.

"Hey, mom."

"Z? Hey! How are you? Are you safe? How was your flight? Did you sleep okay? Did you get to your hotel safe? How are the people there? How...," Margaret started to ramble on. That was just like her, ask a million and one questions and expected to hear the answer to them all when she's done.

"Mom, breathe. I'm fine, the flight was good, I just checked in and I have a corner room with a joining room because Jacob is coming up in a few days to help me with this project. The people I've met so far are nice. And I think those were all the questions," Zena laughed.