Page 3 of An American in London

Melanie sighs, and I appreciate that she doesn’t fill the silence with platitudes like “You’re going to be fine” or “They’re lucky to have you. Of course you won’t get fired.” We both know New York is a tough city.

“How is apartment hunting?” I ask. Melanie’s lease is up next month, and we’re looking for a place to share.

“Depressing. Everything’s so expensive. And since Covid, all the landlords are asking for so much more.”

I take a breath and try to unknot the irritation in my chest. Jed always enjoyed our fancy apartment, even though I could only just make it work on my salary. I would have been much happier with a smaller place where I could have saved something. He earned more than me, so it wasn’t such a stretch for him. But after my subway pass, meals out, and other expenses, there wasn’t anything left to save. I was living paycheck to paycheck. I kept telling myself it was okay because mysalary would continue to go up at the bank and my fiancé was already outearning me.

Except it wasn’t okay.

In some ways the London trip came at the right time. It means I have a few weeks to save my paycheck instead of signing it over as a rent payment. I wish I’d tried a little harder to persuade Jed to take a one-bedroom downtown instead of a two-bedroom on the Upper East Side. But the location was really important to Jed, and so I agreed.

“Maybe we should think about Brooklyn,” Melanie says. “It’s definitely cheaper.”

I turn and sit on the bed. “Really?” I love Manhattan. I love the way the streets are busy no matter the time of day, the way no one bats an eye if you’re making your way home with only one shoe (true story), and the way on every corner there’s something happening I want to tell my dad about.

“I’m going to start calling agents this week. Let’s see what’s around.”

“Sounds good.” I really hope we don’t end up in Brooklyn.

There’s a beat of silence before Melanie says, “What happened with you and Daniel De Luca? Did you just fall out of love with him?”

I shrug. “I grew out of silly fantasies. Likemostpeople.” I fake a cough. Melanie has never grown out of her Harry Potter obsession, and I love her for it.

“Why, though?” Melanie asks. “Why do we have to grow up and become sensible?”

There’s a simple answer to that: Because life isn’t a fairy tale.

“So, London men,” Melanie continues before the silence can grow uncomfortable. “You’ll have to do lots of due diligence and report back.”

I straighten, pulling back my shoulders. “I don’t need anyone else.”

Jed and I met in college. It was his realistic approach to life that had attracted me. There were no butterflies, no blind passion or days spent lost in conversation. Our relationship wasn’t like in the movies; it was better because it was real. Practical. Focused. We wanted the same things out of life: a Manhattan apartment, a place in the Hamptons, afat 401(k). I wanted a life where I never had to worry about anything. I wanted a stable, dependable man who would fit into a stable, dependable life.

Except the stable, dependable man I picked decided he wanted a much less stable and dependable ballerina sister of a mutual friend. They’re moving to Iowa together to run a farm, which leaves me to go get my stable, dependable life on my own.

And that’s exactly where London is going to lead: saving my job, getting a place on the management fast track, and securing the future I want for myself.

“Don’t you think it’s a little ... unusual to stumble across a Daniel De Luca convention?” Melanie asks. “And not just stumble across it but be staying in the same hotel that’s hosting it? Maybe it’s fate.”

“It’s coincidence,” I reply.

“Right, but a strange one. And it’s in London, for Pete’s sake. How often do you travel for work? Never. And the one time you do, you’re staying at a hotel that’s celebrating Daniel De Luca? It’s ...”

“Totally random?” I suggest.

“It’s fate, I’m telling you. It’s the universe throwing you a rope. You need to cling on and see where it takes you.”

“Cling on?”

“Lean inis probably a better way of putting it. I can’t help but think you being at this hotel, surrounded by ... memories ...” She pauses, and we both take a breath. “Enjoy it. Maybe take a tour. Or just go to a couple of locations on the map. You might find what you’re looking for.”

“Like a job?” I suggest. “Or the life I was meant to have with Jed?”

London won’t give me my old life back, but it might help me keep the job I need for the new solo life I’m left with. At the moment, it’s the best I can hope for.

Chapter Two

If I count from the time the plane touched down, I’ve been in London twenty-seven hours and six minutes. In that time, I’ve seen at least three hundred and fifty-six thousand images of Daniel De Luca. Being in my hotel is like living in fourteen-year-old me’s brain.

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