A Different Time

Time with Him (part two)

London, UK

January 26, 2018

9:27am

I slip on my robe as I head downstairs for coffee. It's been five days since I've landed in Heathrow and I've acquired quite the routine already.

When I get downstairs Simon is on the phone.

"The hotel is already booked, Lauren. Yes. Yes. I've already sent the invite out. All right, then you send the bloody invite Lauren."

Half way through his conversation he notices as I sit at the table and pour myself some coffee. It's one of the only coffee makers in the house. He bought it after I voiced my disapproval one of the first times I stayed over here.

After he hangs up the phone I speak:

"How does a five year old have a bigger and better party than most children in the entire country?"

Simon peeks his eyes up from his glasses and chuckles. "Paula, don't you remember who's child this is? Eric is a King."

His comment makes me roll my eyes and smirk his way. I expect nothing less from Simon Cowell.

"Oh, how could I forget with your constant reminders?"

"Old age." He retorts and earns a smack from me.

We both laugh because some things just never change. The past five days with him have left me feeling refreshed. Like a new Paula has emerged... or that the old one has returned, bigger and better. Either way, coming to London wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"How did you sleep, love?" He asks as I look up at him.

"Oh, pretty good. I would've slept better had I remembered what a snorer you were. I mean, I'm three doors down, I figured that would be enough to mask your loud ass, but looks like I was wrong."

He fakes a pout and I come over to him. I rub his face and look into his eyes. He looks tired.

"So, am I going to get an invite to this grand party?"

He makes a slight hesitation and that's all I needed to see. My heart breaks a little as I tell him I'm only joking. I see where the boundaries lie. I excuse myself from the kitchen and tell him I'm going to shower. I see his eyes light up a bit, but before he can ask me to join, I am half way up the stairs.

Once my feet hit the cold marble floor of the guest bathroom, I close the door and slide to the floor. I cover my face and let out a small cry. How could I be so naive? I'm his friend and I will always be his friend. We just aren't that close anymore. The fact stabs my heart over and over as the warm water pours over my head. I don't know why I even asked that question, but as I'm thinking it through I hear the door open and see Simon drop his shorts through the frosted glass.