CHAPTER ONE
London, Monday, December 31, 2018 —Leia
“Leia? Ley?” A tense voice pushed through the phone. “Is something wrong?”
A sharp breath caught in Leia Scott’s throat. “Uh…I can’t see a freakin’ thing!” Heart hammering in her chest, she dug her fingernails into the blue straps of the yellow shopping bag biting into her parka’s shoulder, her coat’s waterproof material still speckled with raindrops from the wintery deluge outside. Is it a power outage…or something worse? It is New Year’s Eve—you never know, these days.
Eyes wild, her glance ran riot through the murky darkness, but the windowless warehouse offered no clues except for the fuzzy hum of the ventilation system surrendering with a whirring gasp. A hard swallow bobbed her throat. “Shit!” she snarled, her curse joining a loud chorus of Fucks and Bloody hells rising around her.
Flashes of light—cell phones waking up—dotted the dark, illuminating the frowns and creased foreheads of Londoners stuck in the Swedish superstore’s maze of tempting impulse buys. The wine glasses and colorful cushions would have to wait a little longer for that special someone to take them home.
“Leia, what’s happening?!”
Ignoring the concerned plea, Leia’s shaky hand skated over a nearby shelf bowed with scented candles, their sickly-sweet aroma of vanilla and waffles teasing her nose, further unsettling her stomach. She gulped a breath, then another. Don’t panic. Being plunged into darkness, unaware of what was happening, unleashed painful memories and long-practiced coping mechanisms, but her heart still raced and leapt into her throat. Whatever this is, I’m getting out of here. Right now.
“Hold on.” Leia pulled her phone from her ear and swiped the screen, switching on the flashlight while boisterous comments and an infant’s wail echoed around shelves congested with vases and clocks. I think the emergency exit is over there? Walk slowly. Be careful.
“Are you okay?” The distant voice in her phone wouldn’t quit. “Ley, can you hear me?!”
“Oh, shit.” Leia put it on speaker and looked up, swerving around a precarious tower of storage boxes. “Sorry, Sarah. The—”
“Don’t tell me! They ran out of meatballs.” Sarah chuckled at her own joke. The baby of the Scott family by eighteen months, she always knew how to lighten her big sister’s discomfort.
“If only.” Leia groaned and fussed with the shopping bag’s straps digging into her shoulder. “No, the power’s gone out. It’s pitch black. There’s no emergency lighting, nothing…” Seeking comfort, she tugged on the hand-knit scarf looped around her neck, a recent birthday gift from Sarah. I’m twenty-six and still get nervous in the dark. “I feel so silly.” She half-laughed. “My heart won’t stop pounding.”
“It’s not silly. Not after what we…well, you know.” Sarah cleared her throat. “Just remember, Ley: nice…deep…breaths. Don’t let fear win. And don’t crash into anything. I need those plates in one piece!”
“Yeah, all right!” Leia shook her head, smiling wryly. Typical! Caring one minute, all business the next, Sarah always knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to say it out loud, even if it came off selfish or pushy.
Children’s laughter bubbled up through the dark. “Daddy, does this mean we can have MORE ice cream?” The sweet English accent of the little boy was accompanied by a swell of hiccuppy giggles. Leia couldn’t help but grin.
Yeah, give us ALL the ice cream. It fixes everything. Well, almost everything.
“Ooh! Let’s play hide-and-seek!” Another little voice bounced over the candle display, but his boyish glee was interrupted by a gruff shout.
“Attention! Can I have your attention, please!” A guy illuminated by his own flashlight waved a beefy bicep. Dressed in a blue and yellow polo shirt that strained over his pumped-up pecs, he squinted into the abyss and cleared his throat.
“Oh, Saz, hang on.” Leia paused beside a bin filled with packets of tea-lights. “They’re making an announcement.”
The employee scratched his bald head. “The storm has caused a power cut. Our backup generator is now running, and the lights will be back any minute. Until then, please hold tight. We don’t want anyone to fall in the dark, ’kay? Your patience is appreciated. Cheers.”
See? Nothing to worry about. Leia let out a breath, her eyes adjusting to the dark. She killed her flashlight and returned her phone to her ear. “Did you hear?” The tightness in her jaw eased. “It’s a power failure, that’s all.”
“That’s a relief.” Sarah huffed. “Honestly, today couldn’t be more of a Monday if it tried. You’re stuck there, Dad’s not back from his run, and Jordan’s hogging the kitchen.”
“Aw, he’s cooking? Lucky!” Leia shifted sideways, letting an older couple totter past. “Boyfriend of the year, there, Saz.”
“Hardly. He turned up twenty minutes ago, big bag of smelly laundry. I’ve told him four times to get his machine fixed—”
“Or it won’t be repaired by New Year’s. I know.” Leia had heard Sarah complain about Jordan’s broken washer repeatedly since she landed from the States ten days ago.
“If he uses up all my hot water, I’ll kill him. We’ve got appetizers to prepare, dishes to wash—”
“Sarah, it’s only one-thirty or—something. Why don’t you go to the gym? Burn off some adrenaline.” The two little boys scampered past, one bopping the other on the head with what looked like a stuffed dinosaur. “You’ve got hours before anyone shows up.” Leia sighed. And I thought I was a control freak. Sarah was taking her own rampant perfectionism to a whole New Year’s Eve level.
“I know, but Dad’s meeting Jordan for the first time, and my work friends are coming over. I need them on side for that promotion—you know what it’s like.” Sarah switched gears, rolling back into Type-A territory. “So, you got everything, right? Tea-lights, two black storage boxes, eight turquoise plates—the deep ones. Like a bowl, but not.”
Leia yanked on the straps of the loaded bag, deepening its groove in her shoulder. “Yes, Sarah.”
“They’ll be perfect for the mini portions of ramen you’re making—”
Yeah, only because you wouldn’t shut up about it. Leia shook her head. I hate cooking.
“IF you ever get out of there.” Sarah tutted.
Leia rolled her eyes and picked at the sloppy stitching on the lip of the shopping bag. I should’ve stuck with my original plan, should’ve rescheduled my flight to Italy. No New Year’s Eve party, no sister drama, no fending off guys she wants to set me up with. What doesn’t she understand about ‘I don’t want or need a boyfriend—ever’? She cleared her throat. “Look, you’re the one who said your back was too achy to shop and stuffed an Oyster card in my hand, sending me across London to satisfy your weird Swedish homewares obsession.” I love her and would do anything for her—but sometimes I could gladly give her a slap! “No good deed…” Leia muttered under her breath.
“Ley…” Sarah’s voice dipped. “I do appreciate it, you know.”
The store’s lights came alive, albeit dimmer than usual, eliciting relieved ahhhs from frustrated shoppers.
“Power’s back!” Leia blurted. “I’m near the checkout. I should be out of here soon.” She stood up straight, her words flying without pause. “I’ll text when I’m almost home, okay?”
“Great! Don’t get lost!”
Leia scrunched her nose. “I won’t get los—”
“Oh!” Sarah interrupted. “If you see slippers near the cash, grab me a pair?”
“Uh, sure. Gotta go!” Leia stuffed her phone in her pocket and stormed through the crowded self-serve furniture warehouse, her black combat boots and long, confident strides outpacing shoppers steering carts loaded with flat-pack bookshelves. She nipped around a cluster of high-backed Poäng chairs where the hide-and-seek boys—twins, maybe seven years old—slouched, waiting for their dad, and past bins boasting discounted Christmas baubles and colorful spatulas. Sarah’s coveted slippers were nowhere in sight.
Pulling her shopping bag against her hip, Leia reached the checkout first and unloaded her haul onto the conveyor belt. A lanky sales clerk, all oversized eyeglasses and carefully curated man bun, stepped behind the cash register.
Leia smiled. “Hi, how are you?” She reached into a coat pocket, digging for her wallet.
The clerk chuckled, revealing a gap-toothed smile. “Good, now the lights are back on.” He logged into his terminal and picked up the product scanner.
“You and me both.” Leia nodded as he rang up her purchases. I’ll be out of here in no time. Maybe I’ll fit in a swim before Sarah needs me. Behind her, a muffled movie soundtrack grew louder.
Ugh, the Star Wars theme. Leia wrinkled her nose and pulled out her credit card. Despite being named after one of Star Wars’ most beloved characters, she wasn’t a fan of the movies. Her sci-fi geek parents, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough, and named both their daughters after kickass female heroines, The Terminator’s Sarah Connor the inspiration for their second-born. Of course, Sarah lucked out—nobody asked annoying questions when they heard her name.
“Hazza! Can’t you text like a normal person?” A posh male accent bursting with playfulness drifted over her shoulder. Leia set down her card and snuck a peek, catching only a blur of white plush—a gigantic stuffed unicorn with a rainbow mane and silver horn—before the store employee claimed her attention again.
“Dammit!” The clerk chewed his cheek and glared at the terminal’s screen.
Leia tucked her long blonde hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry?” Something clattered along the floor, hitting her boots: a cell phone.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” the voice behind her muttered.
Leia turned, finding the smiling unicorn bobbing and swaying while the tall guy behind it wrestled with a kids magic kit, a stuffed green dinosaur, and a large shopping bag, its clinking contents threatening to join his phone.
He needs help. She bent down and her right knee bit back, pinching its dissatisfaction inside her tights. Ow! So stiff. Wincing behind her hair, she retrieved the unicorn wrangler’s phone and slowly stood up, placing the still-talking device in the free hand poking out from the mountain of plush.
“Here you go.” She half-smiled, her glance jumping from the silver ring on his left thumb to the few days’ growth of brown scruff framing his amused smile. Leia did a double take. Whoa. Flirty dimples, tall, handsome—someone won the genetic lottery.
“Cheers, love.” The guy’s appreciative grin grew wide and bright, and his green eyes glimmered with warmth as he lifted the phone to his mouth. “Harry, call you back.” He ended the conversation abruptly and reached under his wool coat, stuffing the phone in his trouser pocket. His intense gaze searched her face. “Hey, I’m—”
“Miss? I’m terribly sorry.” The clerk’s solemn tone yanked Leia back to her purchases.
“Uh…sorry for…?”
The clerk grimaced, his eyes darting from his terminal to the growing crowd of shoppers waiting to pay. “Our card system isn’t working. The power cut must’ve screwed it up.”
A flash of yellow and blue—the store manager—swooped in. “The network’s down. Not just us, most of Tottenham.” He met Leia’s eyes. “We can only accept cash right now.”
“But…” Leia pursed her lips. “I’m lucky if I have a five-pound note.”
Jamming the magic kit in his shopping bag, the unicorn whisperer leaned over his fluffy prize. “Hey mate, any idea how long it’ll be down?”
The manager shook his head. “If you want to wait”—he pointed over his shoulder—“you can grab a complimentary tea or coffee in our bistro, but you’ll have to take your items with you so cash-paying customers can come through.”
“Ah, bollocks.” The guy huffed and raked a hand through his tousled auburn hair, falling just shy of his narrowed eyes.
Leia scowled in solidarity, spinning a gold band on the fourth finger of her right hand. All this way and I can’t pay? Great. Fucking great.
The manager strode toward the waiting throng and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Excuse me, everyone…” His booming voice elbowed into conversations, his cash-only news deflating the post-blackout glee.
Shaking her head, Leia returned Sarah’s New Year’s Eve necessities to the store-issued shopping bag. “Well, I have no choice, then.” She tucked her wallet away and looked at the sales clerk. “Will someone come get us when it’s working?”
“Definitely.” With an apologetic wince, his large glasses slipped down his nose. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Leia gave him a tight-lipped smile. “It’s not your fault.” Hoisting the heavy bag onto her shoulder, she stepped out of line, not sure where to go. She wandered toward the occupied benches near the exit, a gust of chilly, damp air whooshing around the sliding doors.
“Worst timing ever, eh?” The posh voice turned her head. Plush dinosaur aloft, Star Wars guy wedged the huge unicorn under his arm, his attention straying back to the checkout, searching.
“God yeah.” Shivering, Leia tugged her unzipped parka closed around her dress as loud voices spewed their discontent at the besieged staff. Where should I wait? “I have somewhere I need to be, but I can’t leave without this stuff.” She gave the stranger a head-to-toe sweep while he looked elsewhere. Messy hair and whiskers aside, he’s well-groomed, confident—extremely attractive. Bet he knows it, too.
He glanced at Leia. “I don’t want to come back either.” His frown released as the two little boys raced past. “Hey, guys, hold up a second!” His greeting was drowned out by their gleeful shouts about ice cream and the snarky complaints of several shoppers pushing past.
Oh? Those boys are his?
He followed the twins toward the bistro, shooting Leia a quick grin. “I’m dying for a coffee. Want one?” He nodded to the small seating area, which was filling up quickly. “Claim a seat before the hordes descend?”
Leia smiled softly at his upside-down unicorn, squished and peeking out from under his arm. Toys—for his twins. A dull ache wrapped around her heart, but it was overtaken by pain searing through her right leg, short-circuiting all thoughts of children and small talk. She sucked in a sharp breath and adjusted the weight on her shoulder. Keep standing and my knee will be a mess tonight. She looked past the guy’s unicorn, past his mussed-up hair, windswept from the storm outside, to the few remaining chairs. I need to sit down. Just don’t tell hot Star Wars dad my name. “Yeah, okay.”
His face lit up. “Brilliant! After you.” He shifted his bag’s weight, keeping it close as they moved through the crowd. “Oh, wait. Where are my manners?” He stopped and tucked the dinosaur into his bag. “Hello, I’m Tarquin.” He offered his right hand.
Oh, crap! Leia’s stomach sank to the floor. Introductions? How very British. She forced a smile as the Star Wars theme blasted from his trouser pocket. Shit! Worst timing ever.
“Oh, sorry! Just gotta…” Tarquin fought with his pocket, tugging his phone free.
Eyes wide, she looked over her shoulder, her fingers toying with the rose gold bracelet on her left wrist that she never took off. The checkout was choked with irate shoppers going nowhere and the sliding glass exit was stuck, inviting an umbrella-decapitating surge of wind and icy rain into the store.
I can’t leave. I can’t escape Star Wars hell. Leia glanced at Tarquin again. But I can change how I react. Be grateful this guy’s helping you grab a seat. She zeroed in on his left hand as he pressed the red ‘decline’ button. He’s got kids but no wedding ring. His boys must’ve been born before he was twenty. He can’t be much older than me.
Stuffing his phone back in his pocket, he extended his free hand once more. “Where were we?”
Use the old standby. Tell him your name is Lisa. Taking a deep breath, Leia reached out. “I’m—”
“Excuse me! Miss?”
Leia spotted the hipster checkout clerk striding toward her, reading something in his palm. “Miss Scott?” He pushed his glasses up his nose with his index finger. Then, she saw it in his grasp—her credit card. “Leia Scott?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Leia?!” Tarquin’s voice soared, joining his brows in reaching for the ceiling.
Giving the employee a nod and a “Thank you,” Leia swallowed heavily, cursing her luck.
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