Love in London by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Eleven

Gabby

I take a deep breath, staring at the phone in front of me. Am I really going to do this?

After a hot, long, and restless night, in which I kept waking from dreams of Oz, I woke early knowing exactly what I needed to do. After making sure I was ready for my tour with plenty of time to spare, I sat down on the end of the bed and started searching on my cell phone. Searching for Oz’s name.

I quickly found his company page, and although there were no direct contact details, I did manage to find his company’s reception number. I called into the office and asked to speak with him, hoping he would be at his desk, but he wasn’t. They said he’d taken the day off, which made me nervous.

Firstly, because I had no other way to contact him than this. Or ask my dad for his number, which seemed like a completely cringe worthy way to go about it. The last thing I want is for my dad to catch on that I have the hots for him – or for Oz to be reminded that I’m just his best friend’s daughter.

And secondly, because if he’d taken the day off, maybe he was busy – and I’d missed my chance anyway.

But I’d whined my way at the receptionist, telling her a huge sob story about how I was a daughter of his friend and we were supposed to talk about colleges and I lost his contact information and didn’t know how to talk to him. Thankfully, she knew enough of his schedule to know that he was supposed to be meeting me last night, and she fell for it. She gave me his cell.

Now all I have to do is call it.

I’ve been staring at the phone for at least ten minutes, trying to work up the nerve. Once I make the call, that’s it. There’s no going back. And what I’m afraid of is that this amazing sense of possibility I feel might be taken away. That once he says no, that’s it. No more dreaming.

At least right now I can keep hold of the dream – what might have been.

I take one more breath and hit the call button before I can stop myself and think about it too much again, almost panicking and ending the connection when I hear the dial tone. It’s too late now, I think. But, no it isn’t. I could just end the call now. I could stop, and he wouldn’t know it was me, because he doesn’t have my number, so it wouldn’t be so—

“Hello?”

I catch my breath, panicking. He answered the call. There’s no way out now. Unless I just put the phone down, or…

“Oz,” I say, gulping for breath. “Hi! It’s me. Um, Gabby.”

“Gabby,” he says, the word infused with a kind of relief that I don’t know if I understand. Why would he be relieved to hear from me? Well, probably because he thought I was some kind of weird creeper until I actually said something. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

Erk. Have I done something wrong here? Should I not have called?

“I just wanted to say thank you for yesterday,” I say, closing my eyes briefly at my own stupidity. This isn’t going well at all. I didn’t want to just say that – there’s more I wanted to ask. I have to get my brain under control!

“Oh, not at all,” Oz says. “Listen, you’re doing your first tour today, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, then glance at the time and stand up quickly in horror. “Yes! Actually, I’m almost running late. I just – well, it’s your alma mater this morning.”

“Yes, you did mention that,” he says. I think I can detect a hint of a smile in his voice, but it’s hard to tell.

“Well,” I say, grateful that we’ve managed to get onto the subject at all since it allows me to ask what I really wanted. “I was wondering if you might be able to meet me for the tour? To help out, you know. Because you have the experience there. I… I know it’s short notice, and you might not have time to get there for the start…”

“Actually, I’m quite close already,” he says. “I’ll probably get there before you do. Where would you like to meet? Outside the front entrance?”

“Oh,” I say because that’s all my brain can process at the moment. I had somehow started to get myself psyched up for him to say no, thinking that it would be better to expect disappointment so I could handle it better. But I never expected him to agree so easily. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he says. “You’d better hang up and get walking. I’d have given you a lift if I knew, but I left the car at home. I’ll ask them to wait for you if you’re a little late.”

“Thank you,” I say breathlessly, before doing as I’m told and hanging up. I grab my purse from the bed, check my reflection in the mirror, and then sprint out of the hotel.

At least it’s another cool, grey London day – so even if I do have to power walk my way there, I’m not going to arrive all sweaty and gross. The cold weather guarantees that.

I’m so glad I packed what I did. I didn’t have much room in my suitcase, but I thought I’d include at least one dress that was a little nicer. Something a bit flirty. I didn’t know what I was going to be getting up to, after all. And now I get to wear it for him – and hope that he’ll see the womanly curves my body has now.

I hustle down the street as fast as I can, checking the map on my cell phone at every turn to make sure I don’t waste time by going the wrong way. Thankfully, a lot of research on Street View ahead of time has given me a small amount of familiarity with the area, and I’m able to get myself there without a single missed turn – and in enough time that I’m not quite late as I walk up towards the college itself.

I should be thinking about the building, analyzing it, wondering whether this is the kind of place that I want to study for the next three years. I should be forming my first impressions right now and getting excited.

But, instead, the second I see Oz standing outside in a black coat over a less formal black and white outfit today, everything else goes out of my head.

How am I supposed to think about anything when all I can see is him?

I walk over as slowly and calmly as I can make myself, ignoring the urge to run and jump on him. The second I see him, it’s like a fire has been lit up inside my veins. It flashes right to the bottom of my stomach, too, leaving me burning for him. And more than that – my heart rate speeds up, my head starts to swim, and I can’t stop a smile from breaking out on my face no matter what I do.

I think I might be in trouble.

“Hi,” he says, casual and yet so perfect. Like it’s a scripted line from a movie, the way he moves towards me, reaching to lean down and kiss my cheek. “You got here right on time.”

“I tried hard,” I laugh because it’s somehow better to laugh at myself for having to rush over here than to acknowledge the butterflies fighting to break out of my stomach at the sight of him. I already want him so bad, and we’ve only been together for a few minutes. I feel like I’m turning inside out when I look at him, his dark hair just so over the sculpted lines of his brow and his cheekbones, his tall and strong frame that was so protective of me yesterday.

“We should head inside,” he says, gesturing with his head. “I have a feeling they’re probably running late because there’s no one here to greet us. But I spoke with the campus guides and they told me we need to go wait in a private meeting room just by the reception, where the tour starts from.”

“Wow,” I say, blinking. I thought he would only be a few minutes earlier than me – not early enough to find all of this out. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

He laughs, and turns towards the entrance, gesturing for me to follow him. “I wasn’t waiting at all,” he says. “I was just getting organized. Come on. I remember this place from my time here – it’s one of the older buildings on campus. Let’s go check it out.”