Traffic was at a standstill.

After 10 minutes of watching the taxi meter increase while the car sat in place, Sara finally asked, “what’s the closest tube station?”

The cabbie pointed down the street and gave her detailed directions in a thick British accent. Sara understood about half of what he said, but wanted to make sure she had the important details correct, “Just a few blocks that way?”

“Yeah, two blocks. You can see the sign from here.”

She paid and thanked the man, reflecting on his accent. She thought, You always hear of the English accent being this delicate, sophisticated, romantic accent, but then when you hear people in London talk, it’s actually a halted and unpolished language.

She realized her criticisms were probably more of a reflection on her anticipation of heading back home. Just one more night in London, and back to Minnesota in the morning!

This week in London had felt like several weeks. She was glad to be heading home.

She grabbed all three of her bags and spent a minute arranging them on the sidewalk.

She had a nice leather roller bag that was just small enough to be a carry-on. Her mother had bought her this bag when she got her new job a couple years ago. Sara could hear her mother’s voice, “You need to look the part if you’re going to be traveling for work.”

Yes, I need to look professional, put-together, and successful.

Sara’s briefcase matched her luggage, and if she stacked it just right, the briefcase sat on top of the roller bag, and then she could easily roll her way to the Tube station.

Satisfied with her bags’ arrangements, Sara pulled her purse onto her shoulder and began walking confidently to the station. She had ridden the Tube a couple times during her London visit, and she already had money enough on her card to ride once more.

As she approached the station, she noticed that she wasn’t the only person to have abandoned the idea of travel by car this afternoon. There was an immense bottleneck of pedestrians flowing into a staircase leading down to the station.

Sara strode faster, as everyone seemed to be in a hurry, and she didn’t want to get in anyone’s way. She especially didn’t want to be the dumb American holding everyone up.

Walking more quickly in her heels was a bit of a challenge, but she handled it nicely.

A few steps away from the stairs, she realized it wasn’t an escalator, like at many other stations. She had to think quickly about the best way to pick up all of her bags to efficiently get down the stairs and not hold up traffic.

She decided to put her purse on her shoulder, and unstack her bags and carry one in each arm. But as she reached the top of the stairs, the bags seemed stuck, and she was struggling to get them apart.

She had stopped at the top of the stairs, and became a bit flustered, extremely conscious of the hurrying masses trying to get past her.

She heard a deep male voice, in a perfectly posh English accent, “May I help, mi’ lady?”

She looked up at a handsome man with light brown skin. He was tall, with broad square shoulders, and wearing a nice tailored suit.

This is the English accent so romanticized in America. With a tailored suit to boot.

She was taken back by his nice, calm, helpful voice amidst the commotion around them. She managed to pick up both bags at once, by bear-hugging the stack, and quickly shook her head at him, beginning to walk down the stairs.

She had so quickly dismissed him because of the masses of people walking quickly by, that she had forgotten to thank him. She turned slightly to say over her shoulder, “But thank you!”

She kept walking down the long staircase, then along a long corridor, then down another staircase. No escalators at all.

She finally managed to get on the correct platform, seeing that a train was expected in 6 minutes. Fishing her phone out of her purse, she began reading a digital book to pass the time.

Her mind kept wandering, thinking about the nice, handsome man who’d offered his help.

She definitely considered herself a feminist, and she usually didn’t like men thinking they needed to carry things or hold open doors for her. But there was something very sexy about the way this man asked to help her.

After a long train ride, she finally arrived at her stop. She lugged her bags to her hotel, checked in, and decided to finish her work down at the hotel bar.

She had her laptop open, sitting at a tall bar table, and she had finished some food as well. She didn’t notice that it had already gotten dark outside and that it was getting late.

She saw a man out of the corner of her eye. He stopped at her table and said, “How are you, mi’ lady?”

She recognized that voice.

Looking up in surprise, she smiled at him and asked playfully, “Are you following me?”

He smiled and said, “Oh, good. I thought it was you. I see you managed to get where you were going with your multitude of bags?”

He had a smooth, deep voice, and his English accent caressed her senses when he spoke to her. She knew she was attracted to him. She knew it earlier when he offered to carry her bag. Now she was just excited to have a chance to speak with him.

She responded playfully, “I managed just fine on my own, thank you very much.”

He said, “I see that.”

He smiled at her, and it was starting to make her nervous. She wanted to ask him why he was looking at her so intently, but she didn’t want to be rude.

She looked away, trying to break his intense look.

He said, “I’m flying out tomorrow, heading to Philadelphia. What about you?”

She smiled, and said, “Minnesota. By way of Chicago. Early flight, unfortunately.”

He said, “Well, you need a drink, so you can relax before your long flight. What can I get you?”

She looked at her drink, which was just a glass of water, and said, “Well… I have some work to finish tonight, but I guess I could take a little break to… chat for a bit.”

He asked her what her order was, and went to the bar to get it. When he came back, he sat the drinks down and pulled up a stool pretty close to her. She didn’t think it was inappropriately close. It was a friendly distance.

She had started to try to finish up what she was working on, but he had come back before she could finish.

“What are you working on?”

She smiled and shook her head dismissively, “It’s boring.”

He said, “Nah. I’m sure it’s interesting. Is it for work, or for fun?”

She laughed and said, “I used to think it was for fun. I mean I get paid to do what I love… but this particular job is a little boring.”

He leaned forward on the table and said, “What do you love?”

She laughed at him and accused, “You are too much.”

When he seemed confused she clarified, “You call me ‘mi’ lady’ in your cute accent and then buy me a drink and now you’re already asking me what I ‘love’. You obviously do this a lot.”

He smiled at her and said in a soft voice, “I’m not really trying to do anything. I think you’re attractive, and I wanted to talk to you. So here we are.”

He looked into her eyes and when she didn’t have a response he continued in a soft, sweet voice, “I am not trying to be ‘too much’, so I apologize for that. But, I can’t really apologize for having a ‘cute accent’.”

She laughed, and said, “I’m sorry. I just usually tell guys to fuck off when they approach me.”

He smiled and leaned forward again. He said, “Well, thanks for not telling me to fuck off. So…Mi’ Lady, what do you love about your job?”

She laughed and then finally answered his question, “It’s a bit of graphic design, but mostly writing. I design marketing materials. It’s fun, creative, and challenging, and I love those things about it.”

He asked, “Are you in London for work?”

She said, “Yes. I have to come here a few times a year. For work. Our firm works with a few clients in London, and so I come and meet with them, and talk about their marketing aspirations.”

He asked, “Is that the boring part?”

She laughed, and said, “Yes and no. I really do like meeting with people, and I like doing the creative work. It’s the technical stuff, the contracts, and the paperwork involved that is boring.”

He smiled and said, “We each have different gifts, I suppose.”

“Oh, no. You’re a technical, contracts person, aren’t you?”

He smiled and nodded. “That’s what I tend to be good at. All the business stuff…” He looked at her and continued, “The ‘boring’ stuff.”

She laughed, “Well, aren’t we a pair?”

She thought he saw him blush a little bit when she said that. She thought that he was probably trying to just pick her up earlier, but now she was thinking he might actually be interested. Why would a man who is just looking for a one-night stand be blushing? She took a moment to just really look at him. He was tall, and handsome. He wore that suit like it was the most comfortable thing in the world. He seemed professional, and somehow seemed… honest.

“Want to see what ‘boring’ thing I’m working on now?”

He tried to look up at her computer, but then moved his stool closer to hers to get a better look, so his stool was directly next to her stool. When he sat back down, he put his arm around the back of her stool.

She looked into his eyes. She resisted the urge to lean away from him. She was constantly aware of her body language, especially in the business world. She hated accidently giving the wrong impression. But with this man, she thought maybe she’d use it to her advantage, and just relax. She leaned toward him a little bit, while looking into his eyes, then she turned her attention to the computer screen, conscious of his eyes still looking at her.

She pointed to the screen. “This is what I’m working on right now. I need to make these marketing materials consistent across genres. I’ve done the design, but now I’m going back through the customer’s specifications and making sure I’m staying within them.”

He turned his attention to the computer, “Wow. That looks really good.”

He looked back at her face. “Is this privileged information?”

She turned to look at him and responded, “Yeah. Kind of. You don’t work for a competing marketing firm, do you?”

He smiled and said, “No. I’m pretty safe, as far as marketing plans go.”

She decided to just give into the temptation and be flirty with him. She moved her leg slightly, so that it rubbed against his leg. She asked, “So, what do you do?”

He responded by moving his leg closer to hers, as a silent reciprocation of her advance.

He was still looking at her, and he just barely bit his lip before taking a slow breath and then responding. “Real estate, mostly. I buy shopping malls and office buildings. Then lease them out.”

She joked, “Oh. That sounds terribly boring.”

He smiled and said, “Not to me. It’s fun. I get to take risks, and take chances, and … when …”

He stopped talking. He looked down, like he was embarrassed to continue. She put her hand on his leg, and asked quietly, “and, what?”

He looked back into her eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss her. He stopped right in front of her lips, as if waiting for her response.

Sara surprised herself by leaning forward to meet his lips.

She had started squeezing his leg as he kissed her. She pulled away. He was smiling.

She said, “You still didn’t finish what you were saying.”

He was still smiling. “I basically did. I was going to say something about when I see something I like, I go after it, and I trust my intuition.”

She laughed, “Oh, wow. That is smooth.”

She felt stupid all of a sudden. This sexy English guy was able to kiss her with only speaking a few dozen words.

But something about his demeanor told her to not walk away just yet. She was curious. She asked playfully, “Do you use that line on every girl?”

He looked away, a little embarrassed again, and said, “Not that you’ll believe me, but no. I mean… most women …. I mean… I very rarely hit on women. That just sort of came out of nowhere. Sorry if it sounded too cheesy.”

Studying his face, she felt like he was being honest. This guy had definitely sparked her curiosity. Moving her hand to his chin, she gently turned his head so that he was looking at her again. She said, “It’s ok. It’s just that I like it. So… where all do you own property? Here in London?”

He leaned into her and kissed her lips again. It was a soft kiss, with a slightly parted mouth. It only lasted for a split second, but it made her want him. She was still reeling when he began answering her question.

“No, I am in London visiting family. I live in Indianapolis. Well, mostly. I have a house in Chicago and one in Indy. I lease property in both of those places. I am going to Philly to meet with a friend about buying some property there. But I don’t know if I will… but we’ll see how I feel about it when I see it.”

She asked, “You have family in the States?”

He nodded, “My mom is American. She is from Illinois, and that’s where a lot of my family, on her side, lives. Then my dad is English.”

She nodded, and said, “So where did you grow up? I mean, I’m guessing here, because of the accent.”

He laughed, and said, “Yes. I grew up here, then went to college in Chicago, then came back here for a while. But now I live in the States full time. I just come back here to visit about once a year.”

She said, “Wow. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have an international family. Are your parents still together? I mean, do they still live here?”

He said, “Yep. They’re here. In London. I don’t know how my mom does it. After growing up on a farm in Illinois, she has lived in a tiny flat in London for 40 years. I couldn’t do it.”

She teased, “Are you telling me you’re a farm boy at heart?”

He said, “I just like my space. That’s my American side speaking.”

She laughed and he moved his hand to her shoulder and started gently moving his thumb, stroking her shoulder. She decided that she really wanted him.

For once in her life, she decided to be decisive when it came to a man she wanted.

She pushed her chair back, and stood up. He watched her interestedly.

She stood next to him and leaned into his body. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him again, using her tongue with full force.

He pressed his mouth against hers and put his arms around her, pulling her closer, with his large hands pressing on the small of her back.

She broke the kiss to ask, “What’s your room number?”

He smiled and said, “243.”

She said, “Good, your’s is closer. Mine is on the eighth floor.”

He stood up, while keeping eye contact with her, and he leaned down to kiss her again. He whispered into her ear, “Whatever you want, Mi’ Lady.”

Her stomach tingled when he said this. She liked how well he was pulling off being cheesy and sexy. She really liked this ‘Mi’ Lady’ business.

She grabbed her bag and put her laptop inside. She left a 20 pound note on the table for her previous food and then turned to walk away with him. She looped her arm inside of his, and said, “I’m Sara, by the way.”

He laughed and said, “Yeah. That makes sense. I guess I should know your name. I’m George.”

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