Royal Holiday - Jasmine Guillory Page 0,66
and picked up a bun.
“Oh yeah, I really want to! But California seems amazing, too—so different from London. What are you . . . ?” He glanced at Malcolm and quickly looked back at her. “How long have you been in London?”
What a polite child he was. He was clearly dying to know what the hell this woman he’d never heard of was doing in his uncle’s kitchen, but he wouldn’t let himself ask. She’d take pity on him.
“I’ve just been in London for a few days, but I’ve been in England for a little bit over a week. My daughter and I were here for Christmas visiting some of her friends, and after Christmas we came to London, and I’ve been here since then.” She didn’t need to tell him the whole story. “I’ve had a fantastic time so far, though I hadn’t realized just how different England and America were until my time here. Even our words for food are so different.”
Miles burst out laughing.
“It’s so true! One time, this kid from the States was in my school because his mum was working here—he got so confused when someone said we had flapjacks. He thought they would be pancakes!”
Vivian looked at him sideways.
“Okay, now you’re going to have to explain this to me; what are flapjacks? I would definitely think that was a pancake.”
Malcolm broke in.
“I believe you’d call them granola bars, or something close to them?”
Vivian laughed.
“I’d be confused, too.”
Miles grinned at her.
“The kid in my school was very confused.” He reached for another pastry. “What’s California like? Are there really palm trees everywhere like on TV?”
Vivian laughed.
“Not quite everywhere, but we do have our fair share of palm trees. I live in Northern California, so it’s not quite as warm and beachy, but still warmer than”—she gestured to the windows—“this.”
He eagerly asked her more questions about California, New York, and other places in America, and she answered them as well as she could. She steered the conversation away from both art and universities as much as possible, and she didn’t think Miles noticed. At one point, Malcolm put his hand on her thigh and squeezed, and she covered it with her own.
“Okay, is it true that—” Miles broke off and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Oh damn.” He looked up at her. “Sorry, I mean . . .”
She laughed.
“Miles, I’ve heard ‘damn’ before, it’s okay. Is something wrong?”
He stood up.
“Yes. I mean no. I mean it’s just I was supposed to meet my girlfriend a quarter of an hour ago. I have to go.”
She walked over to the door with him.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you. But I’m so glad I got a chance to meet you, and I hope you have a very happy New Year.”
He smiled at her and reached out to shake her hand. She was about to lean in for a hug, but okay, she’d shake hands instead.
“It was great to meet you, too, Ms. . . . Vivian.” He glanced at Malcolm, who she could feel behind her, and back at her. “Bye.”
“Bye, Miles,” they both said, as he walked out the door.
They were silent until they heard the elevator ding. Then they looked at each other and laughed.
“How did you do that?” he asked her. “He was all geared up for another fight when he walked in here, I could tell. And you just . . . gave him tea and offered him pastries and got him to sit down and relax?”
She grinned at him.
“I’ve had lots of practice in making friends with surly teenage boys—and girls.” She picked up her mug and took a sip. “I just figured the two of you needed a little time-out where you could relax around each other so you could both find a way to put your weapons down. I’m glad I could help.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And did you notice that he forgot to leave your key here?”
Malcolm jumped up and looked at the counter, then turned around and stared at her.
“I didn’t even realize that. Vivian, I may need to break into the glass today—I think you deserve to wear some of the crown jewels just for that!”
She stood up and fluffed her hair.
“Well, I’d better go get ready for that, then. I don’t want to be late for my coronation!”
What would have happened if Vivian hadn’t been there? Malcolm wondered. Would he and Miles have had another fight? Would Miles have just thrown the