Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning Read Online Free

worries.”
                  Winter watched them leave, saw them grinning, looking back at their photos. She then looked around the coffee shop; saw a man glaring at her. Winter nodded in his direction.
                  Her thoughts drifted back to China, to the stories in the recent weeks.
                  There were a lot of things hushed up in the world. A lot of things went unnoticed, and if they were noticed they were sometimes swept under the rug. Skeletons were being added to the closet every day. Conspiracies sometimes held a lot of truth.
                  Shit happened.
                  She thought of the night ahead. It was Saturday, and almost every Saturday her parents held a grand party with all of their rich friends. Her parents, who were jewellry designers, had sent Winter out to buy ‘glasses of the best design’. Winter was trying to delay going back. She would have to face interviews with Vogue, make up and designers desperately trying to force her into their clothes.
                  The couple stood up and left, holding hands and grinning to themselves. Winter wondered where they would go next. Did he have anything planned? Did she expect something to be planned? Were they expecting too much of each other? Didn’t everyone expect too much from each other? What would people do if all of this were gone?
                  She drank down her coffee, listening to the hum of people chatting away. The business people stood up and left together, all in dark charcoal suits, the females in skirts with polished black shoes. Winter noticed that not one of them held the door open for the other. It was a fickle world, business.
                  Before they disappeared, Winter heard one say: “Hell, that was Winter Smith.”
                  And the other say, “I’m surprised she’s sober!”
                  Winter picked up the magazine with her name on and saw the report, one she had seen many times.
                  WINTER SMITH IN DRUG FUELED-BINGE.
                  Winter had never taken drugs in her life. They were not her style. A lot of her so-called friends had, but Winter had stayed away from them.
                  Before she could read the rumours spread about her, she sensed someone standing above her. She looked up to see a waiter. He was tall, and had a bit of muscle, but was mainly just thin. His brown hair was swept back, messy. He wasn’t the best looking boy Winter had seen, but she could see why others would be attracted.
                  He was holding his order pad in his hand.
                  “I don’t want anything else,” Winter said politely.
                  The boy laughed. He scribbled something down, ripped it off the pad and handed her the thin sheet of paper. Winter saw the shadow of a number and when she glanced on it she saw she was right.
                  “I get off work at four thirty,” the boy said quickly. “It would be good to get a coffee. Or not.”
                  Winter couldn’t help but smile.
                  “I’ll think about it.”
                  The boy breathed a sigh of relief. “Cool. Cool. See you soon. Maybe.”
                  Winter pocketed the number. She drank the dregs of her coffee and stood up. She left the shop, catching the eye of the boy at the counter beforehand. He waved and she waved back. Keep them wanting more, she thought.
                  She wondered if she would call him. She didn’t see why he was interested in her. She wasn’t anything special, in her opinion. Maybe he could save her from the party her parents were hosting. Yeah, maybe that was what he’d be useful for.
                  Winter decided now to go searching for these cups her parents wanted. She could