Royal Holiday - Jasmine Guillory Page 0,50
be that guy.”
Malcolm now had to cough/laugh himself.
“Don’t worry, I’ve been here before. I can tell you. The menu has changed since the last time I was here, but I honestly think you’ll like everything, and if you’ve never had Nigerian food before”—he looked at her questioningly, and she shook her head—“I think this will be a fun new experience.”
She smiled at him. This was one of the most genuine smiles she’d given him all day. He was suddenly grateful for the pompous ass next to them for breaking the tension between the two of them.
“I’m happy to try anything. All that walking around today made me starving. I can’t wait.”
He smiled back at her as the waiter returned with their wine.
She lifted her glass and clinked it with his, and his shoulders lost some of their tension. Maybe the next few days would be good after all.
“Sir, ma’am, are you ready to order?”
Malcolm raised his eyebrow at Vivian, and she smiled up at the waiter. They ordered everything that looked good to both of them, and he was suddenly starving. He’d barely eaten at lunch, because of how preoccupied he’d been, and Vivian was right; they had walked around a lot today.
“I just can’t help it—I have an extraordinary palate and a very high spice tolerance. Many people have commented on it.”
Wow, the guy next to them was still on about this. Vivian stared straight at Malcolm, her lips sealed together and her eyes dancing. Malcolm did all he could not to smile back at her.
“Um . . .” He had to think of something for them to talk about, so they wouldn’t spend all of dinner laughing at this man. “What was your favorite thing we saw today?”
She winked at him and smiled.
“I really loved Westminster Abbey,” she said. “Partly because it was beautiful, and there was so much history there, but also because despite all of that, and all of the tourists, it still felt like a church, if you know what I mean?”
He poured more wine into her glass.
“I do,” he said. “I’ve been to famous old churches when there are too many people there, and it feels like just any kind of building—like it’s divorced from its original purpose. But Westminster Abbey still feels like a church to me, too, despite the long lines and many tourists walking around. It’s one of my favorite places in London.” He looked down into his glass of wine. “Sometimes, when I used to work in Parliament and was having a hard day, I would walk over there, go inside, and just . . . sit in one of the pews for a while. I don’t know if I was praying, or meditating, or whatever you would call it, but it felt like having the centuries-old stones around me would help. I don’t know if they gave me perspective, or just absorbed my stress, but whatever it was, it made a difference.” He shrugged. Now he felt silly for confessing this to her. “That probably sounds . . .”
“Smart? Relatable? Like something more of us should do?” She nodded. “Yes, it sounds like all of those things.”
He reached across the table and touched her hand, just for a second.
“Thanks. I should probably find a way to do something like that more often.”
She nodded.
“Me too. I used to go to church pretty regularly, but I got busy and out of the habit. I miss it. It gave me that time of peace that you’re talking about. Life can get so”—she sighed—“overwhelming sometimes, with everything going on in the world, then dealing with difficult issues at work, and then always family. It helps to take time for yourself, though I don’t take my own advice on that as often as I should. I do go on long walks, which is a good break for me in that way.”
He laughed.
“I could tell. I could barely keep up with you this afternoon! And I know you usually go on walks in much more moderate temperatures than London in December.”
She looked down, then back up at him. He loved how, despite her directness, she occasionally got shy with him.
“I was just in Norfolk in December, don’t you remember? London weather is balmy compared to that.”
The appetizers arrived at the table next to them. They both looked sideways at the table.
“Please let us know if your starter is to your liking, sir,” the waiter said.
“Oh, I’ll make it very clear, don’t you worry about that,”