Page 99 of When the Storm Breaks
She put on a straw fedora and sunglasses and away we went, breezing right past the security guys in the hallway and into the elevator that miraculously opened the moment I pressed the down button. As soon as the doors closed, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her lips, my hands roaming down her back and cupping her ass as her arms looped around my neck, our lips locked until the doors slid open. Then we cruised right through the swanky hotel lobby and out the front door, hand in hand.
Shiloh had a big smile on her face, like a kid on Christmas morning. She loved London. Loved cities. Loved the people and black cabs and the red double decker buses, she told me.
We cruised past Harrod’s and checked out the window displays as we passed them. Designer dresses and shoes that probably cost more than my truck. And it struck me that Shiloh could afford to buy anything in that window. And everything in all the other fancy stores we passed as we walked down Sloane Street. A shiny red Ferrari cruised past and Shiloh said, “Sugar Daddy anyone?”
I laughed. The dude behind the wheel had a combover and had to be at least fifty. The woman next to him appeared to be in her twenties. An unlikely couple. Which was exactly what I thought when I caught our reflection in the Tiffany's window. Shiloh looked like she belonged here. Even though her clothes were casual, and she was wearing ankle boots with a little dress that was deceptively simple, I wasn’t fooled. They were designer items. As was the leather fringed handbag over her shoulder.
We were waiting at the crosswalk for the light to change when it happened. The fuck? I stared at a passing bus. Unlike the other red ones, this one was painted white and the billboard on the side of it featured Shiloh’s face advertising the “Wrecked and Damaged” Tour. Her fucking face stared back at me from a bus in London.
She tugged on my arm to get my attention. My gaze swung from the bus to the girl next to me. A hat and sunglasses did nothing to disguise her, but I guess she felt safer with them on when she was out in public. Less exposed. But even if she wasn’t famous, she gave off the aura of someone who was special. Someone who would make you do a double-take.
“We can cross now.”
We crossed the street and walked in silence. She told me this was Sloane Square which meant jack shit to me. I glanced at the red brick facades around a small leafy square, the traffic circling it, the sun shining and the sky so blue but all I could see was her face on that billboard. I could feel her watching me, her hand still clasped in mine and she gave it a squeeze, trying to get my attention.
“Don’t let it freak you out. I’m still just me. Your Shiloh.”
My Shiloh. Was that what she was? Mine? “I’m not freaked out,” I scoffed. It was a lie, but she didn’t call me out on it.
She smiled. “Good. I don’t want this to change anything. I don’t want anything to get in the way of us being us, okay?” She chewed on her bottom lip, the worry setting in.
I tugged on her hand and pulled her aside to let people pass then leaned down and kissed her. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not so easily scared off.”
“You’re made of tougher stuff.”
“You know it, baby.”
I looped my arm around her shoulder, and we continued wandering the streets of London. Past fancy boutiques and little shops that sold handmade chocolates, designer shoes, hats so fanciful I couldn’t imagine where the fuck anyone would wear them.
She guided us down streets in Belgravia with big wedding cake houses from another century that looked like they came with a butler and staff. Then we walked down a cobblestone alley that she said was the Mews. “This is where the horses lived. Behind the big house.” She gestured with her hand, playing tour guide.
The houses were small, painted in pastels, with hanging flower baskets outside their doors. Earlier, I’d glanced at a real estate agent’s window and fuck me, even these tiny houses cost millions.
“I can’t imagine any horse being happy to live in a house. Where’s the pasture? Where’s the open spaces?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “They were obviously city horses.”
I checked my phone for the time. “We’d better head back.”
She nodded and we made our way back to the hotel, down a different cobblestoned alley, another Mews.
From what little I’d seen, London was a beautiful city and unlike New York, the cab drivers weren’t maniacs and didn’t lay on their horns every five minutes. But never in a million years could I live in a place like this. To me, it still felt claustrophobic. Even though they had Hyde Park on their doorstep and green squares fenced in behind wrought iron, the air wasn’t sweet and fresh, and everyone lived right on top of each other.
When we got back to the main street near the hotel, we were ambushed by three girls carrying shopping bags. One blonde and two brunettes.
“I’m sorry but would it be okay if we took a photo with you?” the spokesperson of the group asked in her polite British accent. The girls looked to be in their late teens or early twenties, wearing skimpy dresses and sunglasses. They were young and pretty and Ridge would have been having a field day.
Shiloh flashed them a smile, but it wasn’t the same one she used with me. It was bigger and brighter, and I wouldn’t call it fake, exactly, but it was more wary. “Of course.”
I stood back while Shiloh posed for photos with the girls.
“’Damage’ changed my life,” the blonde said. “I had this wanker for a boyfriend, yeah? And after I heard your song, I found the strength to break up with him. Best decision ever.”
“He was a tosser,” one of the brunettes said.
“I know.” The blonde sighed. “But I loved that tosser.”
“Someone better will come along,” Shiloh said with a smile. “Someone who treats you right and appreciates you for exactly who you are.” She aimed her smile at me and squeezed my arm, making it clear the words were intended for me. My first thought was, how the fuck had I gotten so lucky? My second thought was nobody had ever thought of me as someone better. But I wanted to be that guy in her life, the one who put her first and never took her for granted.
