A Matter of Trust: London Calling Book One by Kat Faitour

checking them.” He waited until she’d reached the door before continuing. “Oh and Natalie?”
    “Yes?”
    “Don’t forget about the gallery tonight. I’ll pick you up by six.” She brightened at his reminder. “Let’s go out for a drink after. I need to talk to you.”
    She nodded, her smile fading a little.  
    Bennett waited until she was gone before spinning his chair to look out across the London skyline to the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral. He’d bought tickets for this evening’s art exhibition months ago as a gift to her. He could see no point in canceling now, but would use the evening for a long overdue discussion.
    He hadn’t missed the churlish looks Natalie had been giving Devon since she arrived months ago. He was certain Devon had picked up on her behavior and jumped to all kinds of wrong conclusions for it.
    He hadn’t decided yet what he wanted from Devon, what he wanted them to be. But he knew Natalie and what he didn’t want with her. It was past time he made sure she knew too.
    ***
    Meanwhile, on a break cheated from work, Devon ran through the wrought iron gates of St. Dunstan in the East to immediately stop in wonder. The entrance opened onto a stately tower, tall and gothic, mildewed by time. The steeple looked deceptively fragile, but she knew from her research it was strong. It had survived the fires both man and nature launched. She grinned at the man beside her.
    “We’ll have to practically run through it so we’re not gone too long.” Grabbing Aidan’s hand, she set off, laughing into the cloudless bright blue of the autumn sky.  
    All around, working professionals from the City of London were milling about, either sitting on benches or casually walking through the park. Some were grabbing a quick coffee or snack while others spoke to colleagues in hushed tones, likely discussing whatever was keeping them busy that day.  
    The grounds of the park at St. Dunstan included an old church that had stood on the property since 1100 AD. Over the centuries, it gained additions, and then lost them, when fire or attacking enemies decided to raze its sacred halls. The proud tower, added over three hundred years ago by Sir Christopher Wren, still commanded a piece of the busy financial district’s skyline. She was grateful for it.  
    Rounding a corner, they emerged onto ruins that were overgrown with creeping vines and lush greenery. Devon stopped, letting the hushed stillness fill her.  
    She squeezed Aidan’s hand, prompting him to listen with her. “Shh. So we can hear.”
    He paused, looking around the park with puzzled eyes. “What do you hear, Devon?”
    “Peace. Hundreds, thousands of souls have walked here before us. They whisper in the leaves, sigh on the wind. And yet it’s so peaceful, Aidan.” Letting her gaze swing around the scene back to the man beside her, she said, “I’m sorry. I get imaginative in old places.” She laughed a little. “You should see me in cemeteries, I’m practically fanciful.”
    “No, you sounded sad. Are you?”
    Sighing, she looked around once more, wistful eyes lingering on the haunting wildness around her. Frowning, she said, “I’m not. This reminds me a little of Savannah, Georgia, back in the States. It’s a special place to me. I spent time there growing up. It’s not nearly as old, but there’s a timelessness to both that draws me in.” She looked back at Aidan with earnest eyes. “People don’t stay, but I guess I’m comforted by the buildings and places that do.”  
    His eyebrows drew together. “Devon, some people do stay, you know.”
    “Of course. I didn’t mean to suggest they didn’t.” She spoke quickly, changing the subject. She didn’t look at him, but at her watch instead. “We should get back. Even though it’s Friday afternoon, we don’t want to be missed. But thank you so much for bringing me.” She risked a glance and decided she didn’t care for the pained concern staring back at her from