Something her sister had just said echoed through London’s mind.
“You can’t go escaping all over the world for the rest of your life.”
But for the first time, it occurred to London—traveling was not escape, at least not for her.
For me, it’s life itself.
“Yes,” she said to Lapham. “Oh, yes. Thank you. I will take that job.”
CHAPTER FOUR
London was dashing through JFK Airport when her phone rang.
Oh, please, let this be Ian, she thought as she took the phone out of her bag.
She’d been trying to reach him ever since she’d gotten off the phone with Jeremy Lapham this morning. But she knew he’d been out earlier today golfing with a client, and he never let himself be disturbed on the links. Although she didn’t look forward to this conversation, she definitely didn’t want to leave the country without resolving things with him.
She took the call, and sure enough, it was Ian.
“Ian, hi,” she said breathlessly.
“Hello, London.”
“Um … I’ve been thinking about your ‘merger’ and …”
“And?”
London was just picking her carry-on bags up after they’d passed through the metal detector.
“Like I said last night, I’m touched,” she said. “But …”
A silence fell between them.
“I got an offer this morning,” she said. “The CEO of Epoch World Cruise Lines called me and offered me … well, a job I just couldn’t turn down.”
She heard a grunt of impatience in Ian’s voice.
“More traveling?” he asked sternly.
The question took her aback. Of course, the answer was yes—but it was also so much more than that. This job was important to her in ways she didn’t know how to begin to explain to him.
“It’s something different from what I’ve been doing,” she said. “It’s a river tour boat that’s setting out on a trip on the Danube. The trip starts tomorrow in Budapest. And I won’t be just a hostess anymore. I’ll be the social director for the whole tour.”
Another silence fell.
He’s not impressed, she thought.
At the same time she wondered—why should he be? Those job titles—hostess and social director—didn’t mean a thing to him.
“Where does this leave us?” Ian asked.
London was gasping as she rushed through the concourse toward her departure gate.
“Ian, I’m … I’m afraid I’m just not ready for your—‘merger.’ I’m not saying I’ll feel that way forever. Maybe after a couple more years of—”
“The deal is off,” Ian interrupted.
Huh? London almost said aloud.
“I gave you my best offer,” Ian added. “Now that offer is withdrawn. I’m afraid this matter is no longer up for negotiation.”
London was dumbfounded.
Up for negotiation?
She certainly hadn’t made that assumption …
Or did I?
Maybe she’d been too vague. Maybe he’d thought she was only stalling.
Or bargaining.
Meanwhile, Ian sounded almost spookily businesslike, and yet somehow very polite at the same time.
“I hope you understand, London. It’s just that I’m a very busy man and I’m not sitting still. The train has left the station, so to speak—and you’ve missed it. I wish you the best, though, and I’ll harbor no hard feelings.”
“I—I’m glad to hear that,” London said.
“I hope you don’t regret this decision,” Ian added. “Forgive me for saying so, but I don’t think it sounds especially wise. But then, it’s your choice, not mine. And I wish you good travels—although Hungary sounds like a very depressing place to me.”
“Thank you for … understanding,” London said.
They both said goodbye and ended the call.
London suddenly found herself breathing easier, as if some sort of load had been lifted. She felt unexpectedly relieved.
Although she’d told Ian that her choice might not be permanent, she realized now that she really couldn’t ever live her sister’s life, much less with someone as … it took a moment for the right word to come to her.
Someone as managerial as Ian.
It was hard to imagine that, just this morning, she’d still been struggling with whether to accept Ian’s “merger.”
In fact, maybe if Jeremy Lapham had actually fired her instead of offering her such a tantalizing job, she and Tia might be making wedding plans at this very moment.
A narrow escape, she realized as she showed her boarding pass to the attendant at the flight gate, then joined the line of passengers to board the plane.
*
London’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the pilot’s voice.
“We have just arrived at the Budapest Ferenc Liszt International Airport, named for the virtuoso pianist, conductor, organist, and composer, Franz Liszt …”
She smiled as the same announcement was repeated in French, German, Italian, and of course Hungarian. It felt wonderful to wake up to the sounds of all those languages.
I’m really in Europe again, she realized.
It was now just after eight in the morning here in Budapest, although London knew that her body would keep trying to convince her that it was hours earlier. But as a seasoned traveler, she had tricks for diminishing jetlag from her transatlantic trip. For one thing, she’d slept as much as she possibly could during the eight-and-a-half-hour flight. At the moment she felt quite refreshed.
She got up from her seat and opened the luggage compartment and took down her carry-on bags, then squeezed her way off the plane with the other passengers. She felt exhilarated even by the crush of bodies as she made her way toward the immigration desks and presented the form she’d filled out during the flight.
“Enjoy your stay in Budapest,” the smiling immigration official said to her in accented English.
London summoned up the courage to try a Hungarian word.
“Köszönöm,” she replied, smiling back at him.
His amused nod told her that she might not have pronounced “thanks” perfectly, but that he appreciated the effort.
Then she went to the baggage pickup area, where her bags quickly arrived on the carousel. Since she had no goods to declare, she didn’t have to make a stop at customs. A porter put her bags onto a handcart, and she followed him into the main terminal.
She gasped aloud as the vast, modern “Sky Court” spread all around her with its soaring ceiling and overhanging gallery and newspaper and gift stalls.
London suddenly felt freer than she had in a long time. She took special delight in the crowds of people darting about everywhere, some of them speaking languages of which she didn’t know a single word. It was chaotic, certainly—but it was the kind of chaos that suited her, nothing like the chaos of her sister’s home.
She followed the porter outside, where he quickly flagged down a little yellow cab and loaded her bags into its trunk.
The driver drove her into the heart of the part of the city known as Pest, where shiny glass office buildings gradually gave way to older brick buildings, and the city revealed more and more of its ancient character.