He chuckled. “Dexter Daniels, and I swear I’m not usually so cheesy. Some people have even accused me of being too smooth.” He narrowed his gaze. “But your eyes are really quite extraordinary.”
“Yeah, Zambian-emerald extraordinary. I get that all the time, whatever it means.”
“Wait. You’ve not seen a Zambian emerald?” he said, pulling his cell from his pocket. “Are you not in the gemstone business?”
I shrugged. “Just an intern.”
“We all have to start somewhere.”
“Right,” I said. “This is just the first step.” I thought my Etsy shop would be the first step and in many ways it had been. I just didn’t have the time or money to make enough pieces to turn a profit. My online shop was a hobby, but one that had ignited hope in me, a belief that there was a life for me outside the trailer park once Autumn graduated.
Dexter handed me his phone, which displayed a huge emerald on it.
“It’s not as pretty as this,” I said, handing back the phone and nodding at the ring in the display case.
“Or your eyes,” he replied.
With a face that pretty and a body that hot, surely this man had women throwing themselves at him left and right. Why was he over here, talking to me about my eyes? Sure, he was gorgeous, but I didn’t need gorgeous unless it could cut glass. I had to stay focused on my internship. I wasn’t in London for a holiday romance.
“Sorry, more cheese,” he said. “So apart from the ring that goes with your eyes, did you see anything else you like?”
“What’s not to like? I’m from Nowheresville, Oregon. It all looks good to me. What about you?” I asked.
“The tiara.” He thrust his fingers through his hair as if he were uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“It’s very beautiful,” I replied. “The settings for that top layer are genius.”
He nodded but didn’t elaborate. It was as if his mood had flipped. Maybe he was thinking about the tiara and how hard it would be to design and produce anything as stunning.
“It sets the bar for this competition pretty high,” I said.
“I was born for the challenge,” he replied. His mood flipped again and he grinned widely. “My parents designed and made that tiara.”
“I heard that. So, winning this competition is your . . . destiny?”
“More like my responsibility.”
That hadn’t been what I was expecting him to say. I was starting to see that beneath the near-offensive level of hotness and the oh-so-relaxed attitude, Dexter Daniels had hidden depths. And the longer I stood here, breathing the same air as him, the more I wanted to know.
“That’s an interesting way of looking at it,” I replied. “Holy Hercules,” I said, catching a glimpse of Dexter’s watch. “I was supposed to meet my ride fifteen minutes ago out front.”
“Let me walk you out,” he said, putting his hand to the base of my spine and making me shiver again as he guided me out.
I hoped the bus would wait. I didn’t have money to splurge on cab fare and I hadn’t figured out the subway yet.
“Who’s lucky enough to be taking you home?” Dexter said. “Jesus, everything I say to you sounds positively fondue-like. What is it with you?”
I laughed. “You think it’s me? I’m cheese-inducing? That’s like the best compliment ever,” I said as we reached the entrance of the hotel. I craned my neck but couldn’t see the bus at the promised pick-up point. Would they just leave me? Weren’t the British too polite to do something like that? “I was meant to be meeting my colleagues.” I was stranded. I didn’t pick up my UK phone until tomorrow, and my thousand-year-old flip phone with an American number and no international roaming plan was back in my room at my short-term rental. It wasn’t like I’d swapped numbers with my new Sparkle coworkers anyway. What use did they have for the intern’s phone number?
I needed to find a way home, but not before I cut Dexter loose. He’d already distracted me and made me miss my ride. God knew what would happen if I let this go on even one minute more.
I held out my hand. “It’s been good to meet you, Dexter Daniels.”
He grinned as he gripped my hand with his.
“But if you’d point me in the direction of the subway, I’ll be on my way. These Zambian eyes need their beauty sleep.”
“Please,” he said as a car pulled out in front of us and he opened its back door. “I’ll drop you. Where are you going?” He gestured for me to get inside.
“This is your car?” I asked. “My mom warned me about getting into cars with strangers.” Of course, that was a lie. It was the kind of thing I warned my sister about, but that my mother would have positively encouraged if it meant we saved on bus fare.