Murder [and Baklava] (A European Voyage #1)- Blake Pierce Page 0,1
Mrs., no matter how old-fashioned that had become.
Ian smiled at her knowingly and said, “If you ask me, Marcel called you madame because we look so much like a couple.”
“Do you think so?” London asked.
“Oh, I know so.”
It was probably true, London had to admit.
And was that such a bad thing, really?
Why couldn’t she just accept a good thing when she found it? What could possibly be wrong with marrying a stable guy like Ian Mitchell? She knew she ought to appreciate how he was doing his inelegant best to make this evening really special. And the food really had been wonderful.
But all this talk about predictability was getting to her. Predictability had never been something she’d sought out in her life. She’d always been more inclined toward spontaneity and adventure. But tonight London found herself wondering if maybe her older sister’s advice was right. Maybe she was reaching an age when she should be reining in her adventurous spirit.
Would that be so bad?
I’ll always have memories—and stories.
She and Ian both fell quiet for a moment. London was starting to wish he’d ask and get it done with. She figured she’d somehow manage to let out an appropriately ecstatic if not entirely sincere yelp of surprise, then breathlessly say yes two or three or four times.
It seemed a shame there weren’t any other customers around to applaud. That would complete the scene perfectly.
Why shouldn’t I say yes?
She hadn’t found Ian to be boring a year ago, when her sister, Tia, had fixed her up with him. That had been right after London’s awful year of dating Albert, a charming, sophisticated, well-to-do ne’er-do-well—and an utterly self-centered narcissist. After that nasty breakup, she’d felt more than ready to date a square and stable sort of guy.
And maybe this wasn’t such an inopportune time to tie the knot. She’d recently returned from her most recent assignment as a hostess on a Caribbean cruise tour. She was pretty sure that the eleven-day Yucatán trip was going to be her last with Epoch World Cruise Lines. Rumor had it that the once-thriving company was about to go under, finally succumbing to growing competition in the cruise tour industry.
In fact, she’d received a text message just a couple of hours ago from Jeremy Lapham, the cruise line’s CEO, asking her to attend a video meeting with him tomorrow morning.
Probably to fire me, she thought.
It was going to be a sad milestone in what had so far been a pretty eventful life—the end of an “epoch,” so to speak. And right now, London really wasn’t sure what the future held for her.
Suddenly, the choux profiterole seemed less sweet.
But maybe it was time to welcome a little blandness into her life. Surely there was something to say for square and stable. Also, she was still taken by Ian’s good looks. With his handsome, clean-shaven face, he projected a no-nonsense, down-to-basics quality—not like Albert, who had first attracted London through sheer smoothness. And Ian looked especially nice tonight, dressed in his best three-piece suit.
And at the moment, she figured they looked pretty good together. She’d put on one of her loveliest outfits, a chiffon maxi dress with a demure black top that burst into a colorful riot of printed flowers near the hemline. She had even wrangled her short auburn hair into a style that resembled intentionally tousled waves rather than simply looking windblown.
Meanwhile, London sensed a change in Ian’s demeanor. The poor guy was sweating now, and he tucked his finger under his collar as if it suddenly felt too tight and he was getting dizzy.
Please, just get it over with, she thought.
“London, the point I’m trying to make is …”
His voice faded.
“I think I understand,” London said as gently as she could. “Life and business are really just alike, aren’t they?”
He let out a small, self-deprecating laugh.
“If only I could put it so succinctly,” he said.
Succinct would be good, London thought.
But it quickly became apparent that still wasn’t going to happen.
“London, when my parents were about our age, they made a … merger, not unlike the one I’m currently negotiating in my work.”
A merger? London thought, trying to keep her jaw from dropping.
“And do you know what their secret always was?” Ian continued. “Planning. From the very beginning, they planned everything they were going to do with their lives down to the last detail. And that’s what I’d like us to do, too, starting tonight—make plans.”