I See London 1 (8 page)

“I think she’s lonely.”

I found it hard to believe anyone who looked as gorgeous as Fleur could ever be lonely.

“It’s a bad situation. A lot of their friends jumped ship with the breakup. I don’t think she has anyone besides Samir and his crowd.”

“Maybe she would have more friends if she was a bit nicer. She still barely speaks to me as it is, and I live with her.” She was marginally nicer to Noora. I figured she just hated Americans. Or it was something I’d done.

“She’s hard to get close to, yeah. But once you get to know her, she’s not that bad. And despite all the shit with Costa, she’s really good with guys.”

“Whatever. I don’t think there’s anything to help me with anyway. I’m not going to go back to Cobalt like some loser. If he was interested in seeing me, he would do something about it.”

Mya waved her hand dismissively. “There are a ton of other guys in this city. If this guy isn’t the guy, you’ll find someone else.”

I was going to need all the help I could get.

* * *

Mya and I separated at Starbucks. She had some shopping to do and I had been dying to go to Hyde Park. From my dorm room window I could just see the tops of the trees. I’d started going on these little walking adventures, exploring the city I’d come to love. Since my visit to Westminster I’d added trips to Buckingham Palace, Harrods, the National Gallery and the Tower of London. Sometimes Noora came with me—she seemed to enjoy doing touristy stuff as much as I did.

I crossed the street, walking through the oversized iron gates. It was still early for London and the park was fairly empty. I loved the city when it was like this. It felt like it was my own secret place to explore. I wrapped my coat tighter around my body, trying to ward off some of the morning chill. It might have been late September, but London was starting to get cold. I sat in the quiet for an hour, lost in my thoughts.

“Hey, Maggie.”

My head jerked up at the sound of my name. George waved at me, jogging over to the bench. I hadn’t seen much of him since the first day, when he helped me move in to my room. Most of my classes were full of freshmen; we had only passed each other in the halls a few times. Despite the small size of the school, London was a big enough city that everyone seemed to have their own thing going on.

I waved back at him.

He stopped in front of the bench, his hands on his hips. He seemed a little out of breath.

“How are you settling in?”

“I’m adjusting little by little.”

“How’s Fleur?”

I pulled a face.

He grinned. “Don’t take it personally. She’s like that with pretty much everyone. No one lives up to her standards.” He shook his head. “How is everything else? How are your classes?”

I talked to George for a few more minutes, making plans to go for a run in the park later in the week as we walked back to campus together. We parted ways in the hall.

Brunch on the weekends was served until one; luckily I had just caught the tail end of the meal. The cafeteria was mostly empty. I made my way through the line, frowning at the meager food offerings. Somehow, unbelievably, the weekend food selection was even worse than normal. I grabbed some cucumbers and white rice, the only appetizing options. I scanned the room for a seat.

Fleur sat by herself at one of the tables. I hesitated, shifting the tray in my hands.
What the hell.

“Can I join you?”

Fleur’s head jerked up from the fashion magazine she had been reading. She paused for a moment before gesturing toward the empty chair. “Go ahead.”

The tone of her voice gave a good indication of where the Ice Queen nickname had come from.

I sat down across from her, already reevaluating my decision. Fleur continued reading her magazine, her fingers flipping the pages. Voices sounded behind us. Costa walked by with a group of his friends. He didn’t spare a look for Fleur, but her head jerked up at the sound of his voice. The stricken expression on her face said it all.

“I’m sorry.” The words escaped my mouth before I even thought about what I was saying or who I was saying it to.

Fleur’s eyes narrowed, her gaze jerking away from Costa and focusing on me. “I don’t need you feeling sorry for me. I’m fine.” Her tone was like ice. “I don’t want to talk about Costa.” She focused back on me. “How about you? What are you going to do about that guy? The one from last night?”

The topic change surprised me. “Hugh?”

She nodded.

I shook my head. “I have no idea.” I hesitated for a moment. “Mya thought I should actually talk to you. She seems to think you’re some sort of guy whisperer.”

She laughed at that—the sound bitter and somehow incongruous with her beauty. “I’m not sure I’m the example you should hope to emulate.”

I shrugged. “I’m massively out of my league here.”

“Aren’t we all?”

It was weird talking to a girl who looked and dressed like a model but seemed this thrown by a guy.

“Fair enough.”

We ate the rest of the meal in silence before we went our separate ways. But I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d seen the beginning chinks in the Ice Queen’s armor.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Chapter 10

Little by little I began settling into life at the International School. I enjoyed classes with my professors, loved getting into debates with my classmates. Here students from all over the world mingled together, forming friendships transcending ethnic or cultural background. There was something incredible about listening to an Israeli and a Palestinian student discuss the current conflict. Wars might be raging throughout the world, but the International School was a neutral zone. It was an amazing thing to see. The school wasn’t Harvard, but it was special in its own right.

Most of all I fell in love with London. I spent my free time walking around the city, exploring new places daily. Sometimes I went with friends, but most of the time I went on my own. It was the kind of place where you could never get bored. It was rarely quiet.

“Are you staying in tonight?” Noora asked from across our dorm room. As usual Fleur had gone off somewhere.

“Yeah. Probably just doing some work. You?”

“I’m meeting some friends for a movie. Want to come?”

“I think I might pass this time. Thanks for the invite, though.”

Noora nodded, grabbing her purse. “See you later.”

My phone rang. Mya. “What’s up?”

“We’re going out.”

I stared down at the textbooks spread out all over my bed. I had a ton of reading this weekend. And I was really behind.

I pushed away the guilt. I could study another time.

* * *

I followed Mya down the steps, stopping dead in my tracks.

Samir stood on the street in front of the building, leaning against a sleek black sedan. Fleur stood next to him.

I groaned. “I changed my mind about tonight.”

“Nope. You’re coming.” Mya tugged on my hand.

I shot her a look. “You could have mentioned that two of my least favorite people were included in our little group.” I didn’t even bother lowering my voice. Samir was a flirty thorn in my side and Fleur’s thawing seemed to have bee a temporary moment, never to be repeated.

Samir grinned at my words. Fleur just looked pissed off.

“You wouldn’t have come if I told you the truth,” Mya answered, nonplussed. “Besides, you need a night out. You’ve been way too good lately.”

My eyes locked with Samir’s. He wore a pale blue collared shirt, sleeves rolled, and a pair of dark Diesel jeans. Flashes of the dreams I’d been having about him assailed me.

Samir turned to Fleur, a torrent of French escaping him. He didn’t seem angry, but there was intensity behind his words—and a definite chill in her reaction.

Were they talking about me?

Whatever he said to her, Fleur definitely didn’t look happy.

I already felt ridiculous enough, playing dress-up in one of Mya’s dresses, too tight on my curvy frame. Now I felt like an unwanted interloper. “You know, maybe this was a bad idea,” I called out, ready to turn around and go back in the building.

“You’re coming,” Mya snapped, shooting both Fleur and Samir a dark look.

Samir said something else in French. Fleur glared at me.

I really needed to learn another language.

Fleur turned her back to me, sliding into the backseat without another word.

“Come on.” Samir jerked his head toward the car.

I hesitated.

“Come on.” His lips curved into a grin. “Are you really going to let Fleur push you around like that?” He leaned in closer to me. “Trust me, your best play is to show no fear.”

He had a point.

I slid into the backseat next to Mya, glad to have her as a buffer between me and Fleur.

Samir shut the door with a grin. “Good girl.” I rolled my eyes.

Another guy got into the front seat. I instantly recognized him as Samir’s partner in crime from the first day on the stairs. Samir introduced him as Omar.

I leaned back into the leather seat, desperately wishing I were anywhere else. Fleur didn’t talk most of the car ride, staring out the car window instead. Samir and Omar spent most of the drive speaking in Arabic. We ended up at Babel again.

As we walked toward Babel, I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach. Was Samir thinking of the last time we were here together? Because as soon as I set foot in the club, I couldn’t get the memory out of my mind. At the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would run into Hugh again. It felt a bit like returning to the scene of the crime.

“Sorry it’s a little tense tonight,” Mya whispered.

I laughed.
That
was a massive understatement. “Why are we even here?”

“Samir called me and practically begged me to come out.”

I gaped at her. “Are you joking?” Somehow I couldn’t see Samir begging anyone for anything.

“Fleur’s not having the greatest day.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, she maxed out her credit card? Or wait, her favorite manicurist was booked? Tragedy.” I’d been living with Fleur’s iciness for weeks now and I was sick of it.

“It’s her birthday.”

I paused. “What’s so bad about that?”

“Her mom was supposed to come to London so they could spend it together. But she bailed at the last minute to go to some spa in Switzerland.”

I couldn’t help the twinge of sympathy. There was nothing worse than being disappointed by your parents.

Mya shrugged. “Fleur was all set to spend her birthday by herself, but Samir found out. I think this was his attempt to throw her a little party.”

My gaze flew to Samir. A few girls stood next to him and Omar, one of them pressing a swift kiss to Samir’s cheek.

“And he told you it was okay to invite me?”

Mya shook her head. “It was his idea. He thought you would have fun.” She grinned. “He said something about you seeming tightly wound lately? An excess of pens in class or something.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that one. He still gave me shit about the first day. At least now I was down to two.

“I don’t get why he invited me. She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. She just takes a bit to warm up to people. And I don’t think she has anyone else.”

“She should be nicer, then.”

“You’re right.” Mya hesitated. “But there’s more to Fleur than what you see. A lot more.”

My look was skeptical at best.

“I’m serious. I wasn’t popular in Switzerland. I was one of the only black girls and some of the girls were really snobby about me being from Nigeria. Fleur was one of the few that actually stood up for me. I’m not saying she’s sweet, but she’s not as bad as everyone makes her out to be. She has her good side. You just have to work to find it.”

Maybe it was just me, then.

The boys waved us over. The table had already filled up; four random girls sat crammed in around the guys.

Fleur fisted her hands on her hips. “Samir. Move your friends.”

Samir mumbled something that sounded unflattering but he moved the girls over, relocating one of the girls onto his lap. A waitress poured drinks for the table. By the time she finished, Samir and the girl were practically making out.

I looked away.

I didn’t know what to make of Samir. Mya’s story about Fleur’s birthday made him sound as if he was almost a decent guy. His man-whore side suggested otherwise. Sure he was young and single, but still. Why did there have to be so many girls?

Mya nudged me. “Having fun yet?”

I laughed. “Sorry, not so much.” There was a weird energy at the table tonight. Fleur was knocking back drinks, her expression hard. Samir hadn’t broken apart from his girl. Omar didn’t speak to anyone.

Fleur leaned over to Mya. “I can’t deal with this.” She jerked her head toward the girls. “I hate when he does this.” Her gaze traveled over Samir’s little harem. “They’re just here for the free drinks and the table. It makes us look bad to be seen with them. Let’s go dance.”

Mya groaned. “I’m not in the mood to dance tonight. Why don’t you find someone else?”

Samir broke apart from the girl. His gaze met mine across the table. Something lurched in my chest as I hurried to look away, afraid he would see the confusion and inexperience reflected in my eyes. If I didn’t get up from the table soon, I was going to have to leave. This was beyond awkward.

“I’ll dance with you,” I blurted out.

Mya stared at me.

Fleur looked surprised for a moment before she nodded. “Fine. Come on.” She grabbed my hand, pushing her way around the table. I followed behind her reluctantly. She stopped in front of a raised platform, on display for the whole club to see.

“Up there?”

She rolled her eyes. “Stop being such a baby. I don’t dance on the floor like everybody else.”

Of course she didn’t. I stared back at our table—Samir was still ensconced with the group of girls.
What the hell.
I climbed up to the platform.

“This is such a bad idea,” I muttered under my breath.

Ignoring me, Fleur began dancing to the music, moving her hips in a way I could only hope to emulate. My gaze roamed over the crowd. People were looking at us. Girls were staring at us enviously; a group of guys grinned, lifting their glasses in a silent toast. A rush of power ran through me. I moved closer to Fleur, moving my body to mimic her moves. Our hips swayed to the beat of the music, our bodies nearly flush with each other. We were putting on a show and judging by the whistles we were getting from the crowd, they liked it. A photographer came over and snapped our picture. Fleur threw her arm around me, pressing a kiss on my cheek.