I cracked into my apartment and barely had time to put my things down before the phone started ringing. One way Louis was holding me accountable was by calling me when he thought I should be home from work. I groaned before snatching up the receiver.

"Yes, Louis, I'm home!" I snapped, "Jesus, do you have to be so annoying? I just got in!"

I was met with silence on the line before a male voice that did not belong to Louis sounded.

"I'm sorry," the stranger said, "I must have the wrong number. I was looking for Ruby?"

My breath caught in my throat. "I'm sorry, I thought you were…this is Ruby. Who is this?"

He cleared his throat. "Charlie. I met you a few weeks ago outside your aunt's shop? I'm sorry, I feel ridiculous now. I'll let you go."

A pair of blue eyes and a gorgeous smile flashed in my mind.

"Wait," I objected, "This is embarrassing, I thought you were my brother. He's been really getting on my nerves with the phone calls, I don't normally answer the phone yelling."

"I'm glad to hear that." He laughed, "What has he been calling about?"

"He and I have an agreement that we will help each other break…bad habits and he is under the impression that I work too much and has started calling me when he thinks it's a good time for me to be home. If I don't answer there are consequences."

"Consequences?" He asked.

I sighed. "Best not get into that right now."

I thought back to a few weeks ago when Louis, with the aid of Thomas, let half a dozen nifflers loose in my apartment. You never realize how many shiny things you have until your apartment is in shambles and little creatures are piling things up because they have run out of room in their pouches.

"The reason I'm calling is to see if you'd like to meet on purpose sometime. Say for a coffee or a pint?"

"Ah, meet for a beverage, temperature choice is up to me?"

He laughed. I kind of liked making him laugh. "I suppose that's one way of looking at it."

"We could start with a coffee and see where the day takes us." I offered. "I'm free tomorrow if that works for you."

He coughed. "Tomorrow?"

"Oh, God." I said, panicking. "Is that too soon? I don't know how these invitations work. I haven't done this in…a while."

"No, tomorrow works great." He said, "I was expecting this to be more like when you have to schedule a doctor's appointment weeks in advance. I was expecting to be given an inconvenient time on a Tuesday in January."

"Well, if that's what you were expecting, how does January 14th between 10 and 10:03 work for you?"

"The 14th? What day is that?"

"A Tuesday, just as you requested."

"Is it really a Tuesday? How do you know that already? It's only November. Do you have the entire calendar for 1997 memorized?"

I feigned silence. "Um…no?"

His laugh made my heart leap. "Tomorrow, then. Where do you want to get coffee?"

I had no idea about muggle coffee shops in London. "I…drink hospital coffee. It's honestly sludge, but it gets the job done. Nothing I'd want to expose you to though."

"You don't stop to buy a coffee on your way to work? Ever?"

"I do, but they're…" Located in a magical realm in London that you know nothing about and would probably really freak you out when a witch, warlock, or goblin crossed your path. "...more out of convenience than enjoyability."

"Ah, I see." He said, "Well, I happen to know a fantastic coffee shop in South London if you're up for it."

"Yeah, just give me the details."

I turned the corner and headed down the street the coffee house was on. It wasn't very busy at this time of a Saturday morning and the only sounds were distant traffic and my shoes on the pavement. A dark, cloudy sky hovered over the city as a misty rain mixed with the fog. The coffee shop was inconspicuous and I almost passed it. I opened the door and was greeted by the cozy smell of espresso.

The inside was exactly the place you'd want to spend time on a cold, rainy November morning. The floors and counters were dark stained. A fireplace was set in a back corner wall and a fire was already crackling warmly within. Bookshelves crowded with books lined the walls and round tables with cafe style chairs were scattered throughout the space. In front of the fireplace were two worn brown leather armchairs; seated in one of them was Charlie.

I almost hadn't recognized him. For whatever reason I had expected him to be wearing an expensive tailored suit and with his hair rigidly styled like when we had met. He was wearing a sage green cable knit sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pair of blue jeans, and well worn brown shoes. He was settled deep within the chair, his legs crossed with his ankle resting on his knee and a book sat in his lap. His blonde hair shielded his eyes from view as he looked down. A brown leather jacket lay half folded and draped over the back of the chair.

I walked all the way into the cafe to the other armchair.

"Charlie?" I said, as a way of greeting. I don't know why I put the inflection making his name a question, I knew it was him.

He looked up from his book, a piece of his hair still falling over one eye, a smile stretched across his full lips. Good Lord, he was gorgeous. My heart melted like butter on warm toast and dripped deep into my stomach.

"Ruby," he said, "I'm glad you're here."

I removed my own coat and laid it over the back of the chair before taking a seat. The fire was a welcome warmth.

"This place is cozy." I remarked, I internally cringed at my own small talk.

"I'm glad you like it." he smiled, "What do you want to drink?"

"Whatever you're having is fine." I said, as he began to stand up.

He raised an eyebrow, "You sure? I drink black coffee."

"Oh," I said, I'd never been a fan and the amount of cream and sugar I'd have to ask for would be embarrassing. "I'll have a cappuccino, then."

He put the book he had been reading on a coffee table and headed for the counter to order.

I took a peek at the book. Great Expectations.

I made an involuntary snorting sound as I laughed to myself. He was handsome and he read the classics? The way he looked when we first met indicated that he probably made a very decent living and he seemed like a very kind person. I was beginning to feel inadequate.

He returned carrying two white porcelain cups. He placed the one with my cappuccino on the coffee table in front of me before taking his seat and taking a sip of his own drink.

"I hate to be boring," he began, "But what field of medicine are you in?"

I specialize in potions and poisons but I am known to dabble in Spell Damage or Creature-Induced Injuries when I'm asked. "I'm a Neurologist."

I had picked that specialty a while ago because people tend to just say 'wow' and don't ask many more questions.

"I knew you were a brainy girl." He said, with a smirk.

I groaned. "I forgot about your jokes."

"Would you still have come if you remembered?"

I feigned contemplation. "I don't know."

He laughed.

"And you said you were a…what was it? Hedge Fund manager?" I asked, I knew that's what he was but I for whatever reason decided if he knew that I remembered that it would seem weird.

"Yes," He smiled, "It's an odd one to remember, isn't it?"

"What is it that you do?" I asked, genuinely curious. I'd heard the phrase but never really knew.

"I basically spend and move other peoples' money around." He said, "You know, stocks, investments, and then I get a percentage of profits."

"Are you any good?" I asked, taking a sip of my cappuccino.

He opened his mouth, taking in air before closing it again. "I'm alright."

I couldn't tell what that meant, but it wasn't important enough for me to inquire further.

We fell into a comfortable rhythm of conversation where we covered a wide array of typical getting to know you material; favorite colors, siblings, music, favorite movies.

"Say what you will," He laughed, "But the guy who plays Hans Gruber in Die Hard is a good looking man. I'm not ashamed to say it."

"I haven't seen that one." I giggled.

"You're joking!" he mused, "It's a good one! Christmas is coming up, we should watch it together."

"What does Christmas have to do with Die Hard?" I asked.

"It's a Christmas movie." He said, matter of factly.

"Isn't the premise that there is a hostage situation and Bruce Willis shoots a bunch of people?" I asked.

"Yes, but during Christmas." He smiled.

"A heartwarming, Yuletide tale, I'm sure." I joked.

"It certainly makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Really, puts me in the Christmas spirit!"

There was one thing I was sure about Charlie; he could make me laugh.

He looked at me with his sweet, blue eyes; his mouth curved into a perfect smile. Goodness, he did something for me.

"What do you think?" he asked, holding his gaze on me. "Do you want to stay here, taking up seating without purchasing anything more, or, should we take this elsewhere?"

I could feel myself blushing at my own imaginings of 'elsewhere'. I internally chided myself.

"We could go to the aquarium, the Tower, Borough Market." He listed, counting each one on his fingers.

"I've never been to Borough Market." I said.

His eyes went wide with surprise. "How long have you lived in London?"

"I know," I said, shaking my head. "I tend to spend most of my time in other parts of London." Those magical parts full of witches and wizards that I didn't mention earlier.

"I'll forgive you if you let me take you there." he negotiated, as he began to stand up. "Wait, you do eat food, right?"

"No, never touch the stuff." I answered immediately.

"Ata, girl." he said, shrugging into his jacket.

I laughed as I stood up to put my own coat on. I watched him as he picked the book off the coffee table and placed it gently on a nearby bookshelf. He turned back to me and made a sweeping motion with his arms to indicate I should lead the way out before he breezed by to open the door for me.

The streets outside were busier than when I had arrived and the fog had lifted slightly, though the skies were still quite dark. The pavement was wet from the rain that had recently been falling. It was now misting as it had been in the morning.

He expertly navigated the streets, placing a gentle guiding hand in the middle of my back when we needed to cross a street or turn a corner. As we walked, he told me stories of the places we passed. Some of them were historical events and others were collected from nights out when he was a student or from when he was struggling to make ends meet when he was starting out.

We walked under a bridge arch and I could see a large glass paned structure. A crowd inside became visible as did various booths, tables, and shops. The smell of food wafted as we neared.

"I used to come here once or twice a week to fill up on free samples." Charlie told me as he entered the market. "I had a hard time affording rent and groceries and this helped."

I looked at him as he surveyed his surroundings. His eyes were bright and alert, a content smile rested on his mouth. His hand found its way to the middle of my back to keep track of me in the crowd. I began looking around at all the shops and stalls and what they were selling.

"Oh," he said, adding a gentle pressure with his hand turning my attention back to him instead of my surroundings. "Have you ever had paella?"

I shook my head.

"Come with me." he said, taking my hand in his and pulling me along behind.

We stopped at a booth with a gigantic pan over a flame. Inside it was rice, various kinds of seafood, and vegetables simmering in a sauce.

"Sample?" The woman handling the pan asked.

"Two." Charlie answered.

She dipped two plastic spoons into the pan and handed one to Charlie and the other to me.

"Have you ever been to Spain?" he asked as he ate his sample.

I shook my head as I tried a small bit of the concoction. It was delicious. I couldn't help the mmm that escaped my lips.

"Good, isn't it?"

He nodded at the booth operator and ushered me along.

After paella we tried a few different types of cheese, bread, and apples. We walked around and found an amazing smelling booth selling spices. While I was browsing those thinking about how they were packaged like potion ingredients at the Apothecary, Charlie came up behind me and handed me a cup of hot chocolate over my shoulder. I grabbed it feeling the warmth from the cup radiate into my fingers. I hadn't realized how cold I had been. I took a cautious sip, not knowing how hot it was. It was amazing.

"Thank you." I said.

"Are you market-ed out yet?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Care for a walk?" he held out his hand for mine.

Once again he led me expertly through the city until we reached the pavement along the south banks of the Thames. It was getting chillier as the wind picked up. It had rained again while we were walking around the market and the walkways were populated with puddles. I had never spent much time in the city and I spent a lot of my time with my head on a swivel as I took in all the sights I had been missing. Charlie must have noticed.

"Are you sure you live here?" He asked. "You don't seem to be familiar with much."

"I know, it's terrible, isn't it?" I cringed. "I promise, I do live somewhere in this massive city."

"This," he said, gesturing towards the river, "Is a river called Thames."

I laughed and he smiled at me. He made everything so easy. I had worried about meeting him for coffee because it had been so long since I had willingly gone "out", but he made conversation easy, he made knowing nothing about this city easy, and he made laughing easy. I didn't feel I could say I knew him but I knew that I wanted to. I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could and it was an exciting feeling, but also, terrifying. I realized I had been staring at him the entire time that all of this had been going through my mind. He appeared to have been holding my gaze. My heart pounded in my throat; I was worried he could see it.

Suddenly the heavens opened up and began drenching us in icy, cold November rain. In a quick movement, Charlie wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me with him as he ran. We tore across the street and down the road before he pulled me into the cover of a fire exit outside the nearly completed Globe Theatre.

We stood in the protection of the doorway and watched as the rain fell in sheets. Better Londoners were prepared with umbrellas and were able to continue on their ways.

My back was against one side of the arch and Charlies was pressed against the other.

"I was hoping we could avoid the rain." he said, looking out at the street.

"It doesn't look like it's going to stop soon." I observed.

He sighed and looked disappointed.

"Hey," I said, as I reached for his hand. "You asked me to meet you for coffee or a beer, right?"

He looked down at my hand that was now holding onto his and nodded before his eyes flicked up to my face.

"I'll take that beer now, you know a place?"

He smiled. "I know a great place."

"Well, let's go." I said, tugging at his hand

"But the rain." he objected.

I smiled and shrugged. "Witches don't actually melt when we get wet."

I tried to pull him out into the pouring rain.

He easily yanked me back into the area shielded from the rain. I bumped into his chest and he held my hand to the area over his heart. "You're far too sweet to be a witch."

I looked up into his soft, blue eyes.

"You have no idea." I thought to myself.

I tugged at his hand again.

"Quick!" I shouted, "Lead the way."

He pulled me in the direction we had come from. We both ducked our heads as we ran.

By the time we reached the pub I was completely soaked through. My tweed coat seemed to have absorbed every bit of rain. My hair hung wet and limp and stuck to my face. My shoes squished as I ran and my toes were starting to feel pruney.

He opened the door to the pub and held it open for me to rush inside. He ushered me over to a table near a fireplace. I really loved these fireplaces today. I removed my soaked jacket and draped it near the fire. My clothes underneath were equally as soaked as my coat. I sat and shivered. I hoped I could control it enough that he wouldn't notice and soon the fire would dry me off and warm me up. I looked over at him. He removed his leather jacket, he was dry apart from some rain splatter on his jeans. His hair was dripping wet and I watched him run his fingers through it, pushing it back. Good God, who gave this man permission to look like that. I was certain I looked like a drowned rat and this man could, at this moment, be on the cover of a magazine.

I didn't hide my shivers very well. He noticed. He scooted my chair, with me in it, closer to the fire and wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. It was still warm from his body. He walked up to the counter and returned with two ales.

"You're getting a cup of tea as well, but I only have two hands and I couldn't risk spilling the beer." He said, as he placed the two glasses on the table and turned back around to return to the counter.

He set the cup of tea down in front of me followed by a saucer with a couple cubes of sugar and a small cup of milk. Charlie watched me as I took one lump of sugar and a small amount of milk and stirred it together. I took a sip.

"Mmm," I said, "Earl Grey. My favorite."

"Is it?" he asked, "It's mine too. There was a woman working and she was already judging me harshly for not knowing how much milk and sugar you took in your tea, I couldn't bear to tell her I didn't even know what type of tea you took."

I looked over at the counter and saw a heavy-set woman with grey hair pulled into a bun. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and looked like a no nonsense kind of lady. She peered over at our table, her eyes squinted at me. I smiled and raised the cup at her. Her mouth twitched at one corner and she seemed satisfied that Charlie had done a sufficient job.

I looked back at him. He seemed to have witnessed the exchange and met me with a slight giggle.

The sun had set a while ago. I was almost finished with my second beer and Charlie was well into his third. Empty plates that had held two orders of fish and chips were pushed to the side of the table. I was sufficiently dried off and warm by the fire. Charlie's jacket had been returned and lay hanging over the back of his chair. His cheeks were rosy, I wasn't sure if it was from drink or warmth.

We had fallen into a comfortable silence. The pub had filled up nicely since we had arrived and provided plenty of distraction. I took a sip from my glass and caught Charlie staring at me. He smiled.

"It's been quite a day, hasn't it?" he remarked.

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"This morning I was worried about whether you would be dull or unable to carry a conversation." he said after taking a deep draft of his beer. "We hadn't had much time before we arrived at your train station. Enough to intrigue me, but I worried if today would be a wasted morning. I'm sorry if that offends you."

I shook my head. "Not at all. I was worried you would be boring or snobbish. You were dressed quite posh and I was worried we'd have nothing in common…can I share something with you?"

He nodded his head.

"I…I almost didn't come." I confessed. "Do you ever have one of those moments where you make plans in one mood and are in a completely different mood when it's time for those plans and you really don't want to?"

"I have." he agreed.

"I woke up this morning and I didn't want to leave my flat." I said, "It was cozy and outside was grey and dreary and I almost decided to stay home."

"Why didn't you?" he asked, looking a little saddened.

"My best friend Susan has been nagging me to be open to meeting new people for so long. I couldn't bear to have another lecture from her."

"I suppose I owe Susan a debt of gratitude." He said, lifting his almost empty beer glass. "To Susan."

He lifted his cup in a cheers before tipping back the rest of its contents. I lifted my own glass and took a healthy swallow.

"Am I as horrible as you expected when you almost didn't meet me?" He asked, his tone was light and joking but his face was serious. The beers were destroying his ability to maintain a convincing poker face.

"I never said I thought you were going to be horrible." I argued before I answered. "and no, I…I think that I like you very much."

I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. When did I become this forward?

His smile traveled to his unfocused eyes. "I think I like you very much, too."

My heart skipped a beat as it cannonballed into my stomach.

I closed the door to my flat behind me and put my keys on a table near the door. Charlie had walked with me to my train station after the pub. He had held my hand as we walked and he told me more stories about the area. Something about his comfortability and familiarity with the area made me smile. He was a true lover of London and the quote from Samuel Johnson popped into my head.

When it was time for goodbyes it felt completely normal the way he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a hug. I folded my arms up his back and my face pressed to his chest. He smelled of leather, rain, and faint cologne. We stood that way for a good while; entwined and still. I was the first to move when a teenager bumped against my back and the embrace ended. Charlie said goodnight before leaning in and giving me a light brush of a kiss on my cheek before turning back and heading his own way home. My knees went wobbly like gelatine. He turned and looked over his shoulder one last time, the smile he gave almost made me completely collapse.

I was standing by the door in a daze reliving all of my favorite parts of the day when suddenly there was a loud crack that jolted me back to the present.

"Where have you been?" Susan's voice cried from the kitchen. "I have been calling all day! I thought you would be dead when I got here, but it seems you were just ignoring…me."

She stopped when she saw me standing by the door with my coat on. She squinted her eyes at me.

"Were you working?" she asked. "I'm under strict instruction from Louis to make sure you stop working on weekends unless there is an emergency."

"No," I said, "I wasn't working…I spent the day in the city."

"You should have invited me!" She whined. "You know how bored I am now that all of the kids are in school and Henry is touring with the team."

"I will next time." I promised. "It was kind of a last minute decision."

"What part of I have nothing to do, do you not understand?" she demanded. "You could have told me as you were heading out the door and I would have joined you."

"I'll remember that for next time." I told her.

She narrowed her eyes. Shit, she was suspicious.

"Mmhmm," she hummed, "What did you do? Where did you go?"

"I got coffee," I started nonchalantly. "Walked around the Borough Market, got caught in the rain, sat in a pub."

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" She asked.

I looked at my watch. It was nearing midnight.

"Who were you with?" she asked.

"Just a me day." I lied with a shrug.

"Kind of a long you day, isn't it?"

"I deserved it. I don't spend enough time with myself."

She stared at me. I hate it when she doesn't break eye contact. There was always the chance that she was learning legilimency.

I broke eye contact first, that was my mistake.

"Who is he?" she demanded, overly excited.

"Who is who?" I asked.

"Stop playing." she said. "Your cheeks are already blushing. Who is he!"

I sighed. "He's no one. Really, this was our first time meeting on purpose, who knows if I'll ever see him again."

My heart dropped when I realized that my last statement was true.

"Meeting on purpose?" she questioned. "Did you have an adorable movie style meet cute and not tell me?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, I freaked him out a few weeks ago when I was leaving work to meet Louis for dinner."

"You never mentioned running into anyone." she said, "Why do you always keep the good details from me?"

"You're overreacting." I told her, "It was nothing. He walked with me a few blocks to my train station and asked for my number. I didn't think anything would come of it. Then last night he called."

"Oh." was all she said.

I sighed. "What!?"

"Nothing." she said sullenly. "I just thought I was your best friend, that's all."

"You are!" I shouted, "You know how I know that? Because you know exactly how to get on my nerves!"

"I have nothing, Ruby." she said.

"You have a wonderful husband and three kids." I argued.

"Yes, and they are all away and boring." She said, "You, Ruby, are my single best friend and you have yet to have any juicy single life stories and now you have one and you don't even tell me about it! I need this!"

I ran my hands over my face as a calming reset, resting both hands at my jaw.

"Fine," I said, "I'll put the kettle on."

Susan nestled herself amongst the pillows on my sofa as she settled in with her cup of tea.

"Tell me everything." she demanded as she rearranged for optimal comfort.

She expected entirely too much.

"Wait." She gasped. "First, I need a name."

"Charlie." I said.

"Wait, is he a Charles, but you have been promoted to being able to call him Charlie?"

I looked at her blankly before shaking my head in a dismissive manner. "He introduced himself as Charlie."

"Oh," she said with slight disappointment. "Go on."

I opened my mouth.

"Wait!" she said, nearly spilling her tea with her enthusiasm. "I need a description so I can really imagine."

"He's blonde." I said.

She gave me a challenging glare. "You're just being difficult. You know I need more than that."

I pictured his face and form and my heart started beating harder. "Blue eyes, tall, slim but muscular build, nice smile."

She sighed. "I guess that description will have to do for now. I need you to work on it though, maybe make a sketch for next time."

"You're ridiculous." I informed her. "I'll not be doing that."

I gave her an oft interrupted description of our first time meeting followed by an even more interrupted account of the phone call and our time today. She had questions and requests for more details. She asked several times what his tone was during different conversation points.

"That's it," I said, "I'm calling Henry and telling him that he needs to take you on more date nights, because this is too much."

"Perfect idea!" she shouted excitedly. "You and Charlie can join us."

I threw my head in my hands out of frustration.

"I think it's going to be a while before I'd be ready to start introducing him to people." I said, my words partially muffled by my hands. I snapped my head back up. "IF I even see him again."

Susan had her finger pointed at me and her mouth was open ready to speak. At my last rushed statement she recoiled the finger and closed her mouth.

"Why don't you give him a call?" She asked.

"One, I just saw him an hour ago, far too soon for a phone call." I said, "Two, I don't have his number, he has mine. It slipped my mind to get his."

"So it really is the only time you're going to see him, huh?"

"What does that mean?" I demanded.

"You aren't the most giving." she said, "If you were half as difficult with him as you are with me, he'll never call."

I watched her lift her cup of tea to her mouth and take a sip. I wanted to tap the bottom of her mug and send the hot drink into her face. I don't know why what she said got to me the way that it did, but it did.

"You should leave." I said instead.

"I'm not done with my drink yet." she said not paying my demeanor any attention.

"I don't care." I said, causing her to look at me. "You are constantly sticking your nose in my personal business, I know you're my best friend and that's what best friends do, but it's too much. You're always pressuring me to 'meet this guy, meet that guy, it's just a drink, blah, blah, blah'. Then I accidentally meet someone, someone that I might actually really like and you interrogate every single detail out of me, details that are mine and not yours, and then you have the audacity to tell me that I'm 'difficult' and he'll never call. Get out of my flat, Susan."

Her mouth fell open.

"Out!" I shouted, letting my raw anger get the better of me.

Her eyes were wide and she looked taken aback. She lifted her wand and she, and my mug, were gone with a crack.

I stomped from the sitting room to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and threw my clothes angrily into a pile on the floor. I stepped in the bath and let the hot water run over my skin. The whole day had been great. Charlie was nice, smart, funny, cute, and I thought he liked me. Then Susan showed up and now I was worried. No, Charlie liked me, he said so. But did he mean it? Why would he say it otherwise? What benefit would that have for him? What if he doesn't call? What if I am difficult? I let out a frustrated growl. Damn it, Susan! She spoiled a perfectly nice day because she treats my life like her personal source of entertainment. Even so, I think I overreacted. I sat down in the tub, pulled my knees to my chest, and let the water fall over me. I replayed scenes from the day in my head. I began pulling them apart and finding flaws. Why did I say that? Why did I do that? Oh my God, why am I so awkward? I rested my forehead on my knees; he was never going to call.