Tell Me a Lie

I met Harry my very first day in England. Well, ran into would be more accurate. I had just left the airport in London, and I was running late for a meeting with my new boss. I was doing an internship at a publishing firm here in London, and I was super nervous but really excited.

My flight had been delayed, so once I finally made it to the London airport I wouldn't have time to change or do anything to myself besides throwing my suitcases into my temporary hotel room until I found a place and could move in. At least I wouldn't be needing a car; that would take some getting used to, the major differences in all the roads and even the cities.

I was power-walking—okay, running—dragging my rolling suitcase behind me with one hand and holding my carry-on in the other. I probably wouldn't even have time to make it to the hotel at this pace. I mentally cursed airports and all things aviation.

Suddenly I plowed straight into someone. "Whoa there," he said, and I could already tell coming here was a terrible idea; I would swoon at every single male with a British accent.

"I'm so sorry!" I said breathlessly.

"Are you all right?" he asked, smiling, a mocking glint in his green eyes. He was so cute, with dimples, and thick curly hair that looked styled to be messy.

"Are you all right?" I asked. "I ran into you. I'm so sorry, my flight was delayed and I'm running super late."

He smiled. "You American girls are so cute." I felt myself blush. "I'm Harry." He held out his hand.

"Scarlett," I replied, shifting my carry on to be on top of my suitcase so I could have a free hand to shake his. "And for the record, you English guys aren't too shabby yourselves."

He grinned at me. "Tell you what, Scarlett. How about we go for drinks later? When you're not in quite so much of a rush. As friends," he added, probably just in case I didn't flip out. I wouldn't have. Holy crap, not even five minutes in England and I was getting asked out? By one of the cutest guys I'd ever seen no less?

"Ummm..." I said, because as much as I wanted to stay and continue the conversation, time was still ticking.

"Here, let me see your mobile," he said, holding out his hand again.

On second thought, this guy could be a creep. I didn't think so, but you never knew. I reluctantly reached in my back pocket and pulled out my old dinosaur compared to all the iPhones. I wondered vaguely if it would even work over here. He punched some stuff in and handed me his phone instead of mine. I quickly entered my number under Scarlett. I looked at my phone when I was done and noticed he had put his number under Hazza. Cute.

"Here," I handed his iPhone back, and he leaned in as he gave me my phone back.

"You know," he said quietly, smirking, "I always kiss on the first date." I felt my face get even redder; I had never blushed in my life, and here this flirty Brit had already made me blush twice in 5 minutes.

He pulled away. "Unfortunately, we're just friends, so this doesn't constitute as a date." He grinned at me, and all I could think was Oh my God. "Until then, Miss Scarlett." He walked off and waved goodbye as he went, never taking his eyes off me.

I just stood there, until he was out of sight and I came back down to reality. And realized I was now officially late and would be lucky if I wasn't fired my first meeting, not even day. It was too soon to tell whether it was worth it or not, but I couldn't help the smile that spread slowly across my face.