I See London 1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

it was the kind of thing you enjoyed if you were on something. Otherwise it just looked strange. The main focal point, though, was the bar. It covered nearly the entire back wall, its surface lit up in crazy light patterns, matching the colors on the video screen. Girls danced on top of it.
    I had felt out of place at the boat party. Here I felt as if I had walked into Oz.
    Samir led the group over to a small table, everyone cramming in together. I slid in between Michael and Mya. Immediately, a waitress came over with the biggest bottle of champagne I’d ever seen. Things that looked like sparklers exploded from the top of the bottle. No one else seemed to think there was anything unusual about the pyrotechnics or the giant-size bottle of champagne.
    Right. No big deal.
    “I think I’m going to head to the bar for a second,” I whispered to Mya.
    I got up from the table, wondering for the millionth time what I was doing with them. Everyone acted like Samir was footing the bill, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty that he barely knew me and yet he was buying me champagne. I figured the mini fireworks display, which no one else at the club had gotten, meant something special. And by special I meant expensive.
    I pushed my way through the crowd of people, making my way up to the bar. I paused for a moment, trying to find the biggest gap of space between the dancing girls. Somehow the idea of ordering a drink with some girl’s butt in my face just felt wrong. The guys probably saw it as an added bonus.
    I leaned across the bar top, struggling to catch the bartender’s attention. There were at least twelve other girls trying to do the same. My gaze caught with a guy standing next to me at the bar. His arm grazed mine, his hips bumping against me as the crowd pushed us together. He grinned.
    “Hi.”
    Hello.
    He was tall, really tall, with a gorgeous head of dark, chocolate-brown hair. He was dressed in what was clearly the standard uniform of a pair of dark jeans and a suit jacket with a collared shirt underneath.
    He wore it well. Really well.
    He grinned at me. “Can I buy you a drink?”
    There was no way I was ordering a soda now. For a moment I felt the familiar rush of nerves and fear filling me. But whether it was the dress or the champagne, this time I didn’t freeze. Instead I managed a nervous smile and prayed the club’s darkness masked any flush that might cover my cheeks. “Sure. Thanks.”
    He signaled to the bartender. “What do you want?”
    I hesitated for a beat. “Cosmopolitan.”
    He ordered for me, his accent somewhere between Prince William and Hugh Grant.
    The guy turned his attention back to me. “I’m Hugh.”
    “Maggie.”
    I took his outstretched hand, fitting my palm into his.
    “You’re American. Nice.” His smile widened. “Welcome to London.” He released my hand, his fingers stroking the inside of my wrist. “Are you enjoying it?”
    I grinned. “I am now.”
    His smile stretched even further and my heartbeat sped up.
    OMG, I was flirting and it was actually working.
    “How long have you been here?”
    “Just a few days.”
    He flashed me a grin. “So you’re fresh off the boat,” he teased.
    “You could say that.” There was a rhythm to this—the flirting. I was finally catching my stride.
    “What brings you to London? Work?” He leaned against the bar, propping his arm against the frosted glass, his body dominating the space around him. Colors lit up beneath the bar top, alternately flashing pink and red.
    This could not possibly be my life.
    “I’m doing a master’s.” The lie flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. For some reason I didn’t want to tell this guy I was only nineteen.
    The bartender handed me the Cosmo. I took a sip, the tart drink exploding in my mouth. Yum. I could definitely get used to this.
    “So what do you do?” I asked, leaning my elbows against the bar top, letting my body do some of the talking. I may have been