Page 4 of Chasing Sophia

“William, sir.”

I get into the driver’s seat of my McLaren, and once William shuts the passenger door, I expertly steer us throughout the streets of St. Peppers. “You knew who I was at The Queen’s that night,” I state. “Why didn’t your staff treat me as such?”

“When the king decides to stroll through the town, you don’t blow his disguise.”

I chuckle, feeling lighter for the first time in the past two days. “Looking at you, I wouldn’t have guessed there was a funny bone in you.”

“I’m a man of many talents, Mr. Miller.” There’s a serious lilt in his voice despite the lighthearted words. “The town’s wealthiest man walks into his hotel, and not a single person blinks an eye? People don’t flock around him offering favors? I assumed there was a reason for the secrecy.”

“I’m sure word has gotten around that I’ve taken medical retirement from the military.” I raise an eyebrow, and William nods without pulling his gaze away from the street. “Just enjoying some calm before fully immersing myself into the civilian life. So, was it hard for you?” When he doesn’t reply, I add, “Getting back into the civilian life?”

Looking at the control and finesse with which William carries himself, I’ve guessed by now that he was in the military.

“It depends what you’re looking for, sir. I desperately wanted some normalcy. I took the plunge into this slow, calm life with my whole heart.”

“My father hired you, didn’t he?” One of my dad’s greatest skills was to surround himself with only the most loyal staff, something I definitely didn’t inherit, given Larry’s incompetence.

“As a matter of fact, it was your mother, sir.”

Sorrow twists my insides and snakes around my chest. It’s been almost a decade since my parents’ death in a car crash, butwith my return to St. Peppers, their memories are becoming more and more frequent.

“She was at the hospital on one of her visits. I was lying on the bed, injured and broken, with no place and no one to go to. She found out that I like reading, so she started reading to me. She said I reminded her of you.” William is quiet abruptly, and after a beat’s pause, he clears his throat and adds, “I hope I didn’t overstep, sir.”

I shake my head. “I know my mother. She was the kindest person on earth.”

“She was indeed. She gave me the job at the library, but then a few weeks later your father offered me the position as hotel manager.” William’s every word drips with gratitude, and then we fall into silence.

Once we reach the hotel and I show him the table, it takes less than a few minutes for William to find me the name and address of the person who made the booking, but it doesn’t make any sense.

The table was booked by one Louis Durant. No Sophia. No fucking Jeremy.

It takes me another day to link the famous Durant Wine family with my firecracker, and soon I’m standing outside the music school where she teaches.

4

SOPHIA

“He kissed you? On your lips?”Luna squeals when I give her a hesitant nod. “Wow.”

“Don’t romanticize it. I’m not at all pleased about it.”

Liar, my brain retorts, but I ignore it.

Even if I haven’t accepted it out loud, I haven’t been able to forget the feel of his lips on mine. In just a fraction of a second, he branded me. His touch lit every fiber in my body. I remember his thumb against my cheek and the way my heart galloped. How I managed to walk away from him is still a mystery to me.

“And you slapped him?”

I nod once again, pleasure skirting away and leaving embarrassment in its wake. I might be outspoken, but I’m not a violent person by nature. In fact, I took part in a parade against emotional violence in the workplace in the town’s square last month.

Hypocrite, my inner critic hollers.

But I blame my actions on the loss of consciousness his kiss had bestowed upon me.

“Who was he exactly?” Luna asks as she collects my things from the table and slides them into my bag. Yeah, I lose track ofeverything when I’m thinking about… the kiss. The burnt pot of breakfast oatmeal from this morning is more proof of that.

“Some jerk.” I shake my head. Yeah, I should hate him. He kissed me for God’s sake, took something that was mine to give. I’m not the shiny right breast of Juliet’s statue in the town square that anyone can touch as they please. “And I have no desire of ever seeing him again.” Something akin to disappointment pulls at my chest, but I’m determined to ignore it.

Fraud.

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