He faced her as well, a rueful smile on his face. “Perhaps I was too harsh on this stuff. I know you like gardening and . . . those kinds of things. Maybe we could carve out some land for a big rose garden at our home in Esserby. To make you happy until we move to Lorria.”
Katy’s heart was moved. The tall, handsome man in front of her could woo any woman in the world. And here he was, even against his own sensibilities, trying his damnedest to win Katy’s affections.
Even as she thought it, she felt her heart clench.
And I can never give them to him.
“Oliver,” she said, “I can’t marry you.”
She’d surprised even herself with the words; it was like they’d bypassed her brain entirely, rising up out of something deep and primal in her belly. But she didn’t walk them back. It was the truth. Maybe she’d always known it. Sometimes she’d hoped that it would change; sometimes she’d just ignored the fact altogether. But now that she had acknowledged the feelings, she had to do what was right.
Oliver’s face fell, his eyes pained, and a flush of sadness swelled in Katy’s chest.
“I’m so sorry,” she continued miserably. “I know we’ve already announced, and the plans are set, but . . .”
“Is this about David?”
Katy’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t believe he’d just said those words aloud. She stayed quiet, struggling with a response. Behind her, an unseen wren warbled.
Oliver looked down and heaved a sigh, taking her silence as an answer.
“Oliver, I . . .”
“Katerina, you have to understand this from my perspective.”
Katy’s mouth closed again, and she looked up at Oliver and just waited for him to go on. She didn’t know what to say, anyway. Her chest was so full of swirling sadness.
“What would you do if you found a wounded bird on your doorstep?”
Katy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “A . . . wounded bird?”
“Yes. A jay, maybe. A little jay with a broken wing.”
Katy shook her head slowly. “Oliver, I’m sorry, but I’m not following.”
“I know you, Katerina. You have a big heart. So you’d bring that bird inside and do your best to save it. Keep it warm. Keep it fed. Heal it. But what if every chance it could, that bird tried to leap out the window? Tried to escape and fly away, even though you knew it wasn’t ready yet?”
Katy took a deep breath, realizing what Oliver was trying to say.
“I love you, Katerina. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I loved you as soon as I met you, I think. All those years ago in Northern Lorria. At the time, I respected your wishes to be with . . . him. But what am I supposed to do now? Let you run back to him and hurt yourself all over again? Or try to show you what real love is like? Try to heal you and care for you, until you’re truly ready to fly?”
Katy shook her head, the sadness in her chest sharpening a little bit. But in a way, knowing he felt this way . . . it made things clearer to her. It made her realize how much independence and strength had slipped away from her for so long, and how ready she was to seize it again. In her own way.
“I know you care for me,” she said, looking into his hopeful eyes, “and I’ve always been grateful for how respectful you are. But I’m not a little bird, Oliver. I’m a woman with my own brain and heart. And I have to be true to myself.”
“At whose expense, Katerina?”
Katy almost gasped; tension seized her shoulders, clenching around the sadness. For the briefest of moments, Oliver had sounded exactly like her mother. The guilt seeped into her again, taking the momentary clarity away.
Are you willing to let down Oliver, his parents, your parents, and your entire country just because you’re pining over someone who might be the worst option for you?
Or are you doing this for you?
She couldn’t be sure.
Seeming to see her response, Oliver put his hands on his hips and looked down and away. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to say that you’re selfish or broken or . . . whatever it is that I’m mistakenly getting across. But please. For me. Let’s just get through this party together. Our families are all coming together. We’ve announced. The party is almost underway! Please. Let’s reconvene afterward.”
As he reached the end of his plea, Oliver’s voice grew desperate and strained. His handsome face was sad, begging her not to do this.
What can I do? Deny him the simple kindness of patience because it feels deceptive to me? When he’s made it clear that he doesn’t mind my mixed feelings? When he’s done nothing but love and support me for more than a year?
“Okay, Oliver. After the party.”
She kept the statement vague. She didn’t know what she meant, herself. After the party we break up? Start this winding argument again?
Or keep pretending forever?
* * *
Katy’s hand hovered over “send” for long seconds.
You’re being brash and impulsive. Obviously you shouldn’t send this text. Obviously this is a bad choice. But she pressed down anyway, and the message whizzed off into cyberspace.
Doubt set in immediately.
What was she doing? Why was she even asking? Was this a betrayal of Oliver? A betrayal of herself? Meaningless masochistic leanings?
She lay back on her bed, alone in her room. What a stupid thing to ask for. Zeke probably wouldn’t even have it. And if he did, why would he share it with . . .
The phone buzzed, and Katy quickly brought the bright screen up to her face to read Zeke’s response.
“Hey! Glad you texted. I do have her number. I attached the contact info. But why?”
Katy didn’t immediately respond. She’d have to take her time to compose that answer. Instead, she looked at the attached phone number with a New York area code and felt her heart begin to race.
If she couldn’t talk to David directly, she needed to at least speak to someone who knew him well and could commiserate, maybe even answer some years-old questions.
She needed to speak to Cerise.
15
David
“I’m here for Martha Greer,” David said to the gate attendant. He had the window down in a rented sedan, and with his trendy spectacles and tailored suit, he felt like Calder Rhines. Posh. Sophisticated. Ready to win.
The attendant nodded and the iron gate rolled smoothly open. Another attendant just inside pointed toward a side entrance to the palace, smaller and less ostentatious than the grand steps and drive meant for more dignified guests, but still quite intimidating.
Not that Calder was anyone to be intimidated. He was the distinguished, highly recommended, and experienced candidate that Martha was looking for. David was confident about that.
A bow-tied valet took the car with a smooth bow, and David stepped out and straightened his jacket. The roof of the business wing of the palace sloped down from the main building. David looked up at the single-story, window-lined structure and took a confident breath of fragrant air.
Here goes nothing.
Inside the luxurious entry hall, a receptionist greeted him.
“Mr. Rhines?” she asked with a hospitable smile.
David nodded politely.
“You can go on in. Mrs. Greer is expecting you.” She stood and graciously extended her arm in the direction of an open office a few paces down the hallway.
As David stared toward that door, nervousness seized him unexpectedly. He’d felt so sure of himself and of the master plan until that moment. Suddenly, as if it had never really occurred to him, he realized that he was a con with a rap sheet and a fake passport, about to fake his way through an interview at the palace, and quite possibly under the same roof as the only woman he had ever truly loved. He wavered. But Mia’s advice echoed in his mind.
You have nothing more to lose and everything you’ve ever wanted to gain.
David took a deep breath and walked into Martha’s office.
A woman
he assumed to be Martha was sitting behind a small and tidy desk, typing furiously on a laptop keyboard. Her office was quaint and homey, filled with potted ferns and pictures of her family. She didn’t notice David immediately.
David cleared his throat. “Pardon me. Mrs. Greer?”
Martha looked up over her spectacles. She was a heavyset woman with a gentle, calming gaze that helped David feel more at ease.
“Mr. Rhines, I presume?” She smiled and offered a hand.
“Yes, I’m . . .” David took her hand but paused for a beat. Did you almost just tell her your real name, you idiot? Get it together! “Calder.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Calder. Mr. Giles had such nice things to say about you.”
Martha gestured toward a chair, and David sat. Martha followed suit.
“How is Richard, anyway? I was surprised to hear from him. I’d heard a rumor he wasn’t doing well after the divorce.”
David balked. He hadn’t been prepared to lie about anyone other than himself. “He’s a great man. It’ll all work out in the end.”
Martha nodded. “Good to hear,” she said as she picked up a sheet of printed paper on her desk. David recognized it as his doctored résumé.
“Well. Let’s begin, shall we?” Martha said gently.
But David found himself less disarmed by her presence than before.
The interview took the better part of an hour. David Rosen may have been an infamous felon and the palace’s least desirable job candidate, but Calder Rhines was suave, assured, and, from Martha’s pleased tone and the little compliments she dropped into their conversation, a shoo-in for the butler job.
A few times during their conversation, though, her eyes had lingered on David’s face, and he’d felt nervous. Were the glasses, beard, contacts, and haircut enough to keep him from being recognized? Or was she able to see right through the simple disguise?
But every time, she’d just smiled and then looked back down at his résumé, and so David assumed that it was just his nerves guessing at the worst. Things were fine. Better than fine, even.
Afterward, they both stood to shake hands once more.
“It’s been a pleasure speaking with you, Mr. Rhines. And while I still have a few interviews today, I foresee good news on your horizon. You’re certainly the most experienced candidate.”
David smiled humbly. That was a part of the plan he hadn’t considered in depth, too focused on just getting here, which itself had seemed such an impossible task. Hopefully if he did get hired, he could fake his way through the job long enough to see Katy. His studies at Harvard had to count for something, right?
“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Greer. I look forward to speaking with you.”
Martha nodded. “I hope to let you know by the end of the day. Urgent staffing needs and whatnot. Have a good afternoon.”
David waved and stepped out of the office, feeling a rush go to his head as he realized that he might just have pulled this off.
But he had barely made it into the hallway when his heart suddenly dropped into his stomach.
Cassie.
Katy’s cousin was standing right outside Martha’s office. She was turned to the side, looking up at a muscular, blond man speaking to her in an accented voice, probably Russian—most likely the fabled fiancé.
For just a moment, David froze, unsure of what to do. But Cassie didn’t look at him or even acknowledge his presence in any way. Instead, she stepped into Martha’s office as soon as the door was open as though she belonged there, neatly shutting it behind her.
But that left the fiancé in the hallway with David.
Trying to keep a calm, professional demeanor—just another guy interviewing for a job, nothing to see here—he made for the door. But, probably because the Russian wasn’t paying attention, he stepped forward at the same time, bumping right into David.
“Oh! Watch it,” the man said, none too kindly.
“Pardon me,” David muttered. He kept his face down, but he was taller than the fiancé, so that just ended up with him looking right into the man’s face.
A flash of recognition ran across the fiancé’s eyes. David tried to quickly walk past him.
“Hey, wait!”
No, no, no, no. David didn’t want to turn around. He’d managed to fool Martha and the receptionist with his disguise. But, up close with Katy’s best friend’s fiancé—even if the man had never met him before—would his changed appearance still pass muster?
“Hey! Do I know you?”
David stopped and sighed. He turned around. “No. I don’t think so.”
The Russian squinted and walked up closer to David. “Hmm. Are you sure? You look so familiar.”
David pushed his black-rimmed glasses up on his nose. “Perhaps you have me confused with a celebrity. I get that a lot.”
Calder probably isn’t very modest, is he?
The man didn’t budge. “Do you work here?”
“Not yet,” David replied.
“Have you been here before?”
David shook his head. What would he do if he were recognized? Make a run for it? Try to deny it? What could he do? His heart began to pound. He affected a haughty, bored kind of smile.
“Look, mate, I could sign an autograph for you if you’d like. But I doubt it’d be worth much.”
That means bugger off, in case you’re not picking up on it.
“I know that I know you,” the man went on. He took another step toward David.
“Boris!”
Cassie’s shrill voice sounded behind her fiancé. She had just stepped back out of Martha’s office. Apparently, it had been a lightning-speed meeting.
David took the opportunity to make a break for it. Without bothering to offer any further goodbyes, he left the building and went straight back to the valet, keeping his head down. He didn’t want to linger in the palace one second longer. That had been too many close encounters already.
* * *
“Could you maybe wear a burlap sack, like, over that suit? I keep thinking you’se a undercover cop when you walk up. Makin’ me mad nervous.”
Mick took a swig from an aluminum can of beer, and David smiled.
“There won’t be any problem as long as you’re not doing anything illegal.”
“Existing is illegal for meffs like us, lad,” Mick replied. Then, side-eying David, he added, “Although, you look more like a dandy nowadays.” Mick winked.
“Did Martha ask much about me?” Giles asked in a low voice. He was holding a plastic bottle of bottom-shelf gin, and his eyes looked red and dull. Back to his normal state, David guessed, the temporary interlude where he’d had to be sober to make the call already in the past. At least the older man was no longer shaking with withdrawal.
His smile faded away as he answered. “She did.”
“Did you tell her the truth?” Giles asked emotionlessly.
Mick and Rufus looked up at David as well, waiting for his response.
“Yes,” David said.
Giles nodded. “For the best. Don’t train yourself to lie too much, David. That’s probably what led me here. One small lie that turned into a thousand more.”
“I told her you were a good man . . . and that things would be looking up soon,” David clarified.
Giles looked up, his eyes soft, and then cracked the faintest of smiles.
The group was quiet for a change. They still stood around the rusty barrel that usually held fires, but nothing was burning today. It was just a force of habit.
Not much for muted reflection, Tina walked up and broke the silence.
“My, my, David. Shame you already got a girl. But you know where to come to if she ain’t having you, right?” She looked wolfishly at David; he looked away in discomfort.
“Probably to a different rich, pretty bird,” Mick countered. “Sod off, Tina.”
Tina made a rude gesture to Mick before turning back to David. “I came to tell you I seen a real nice
car idlin’ nearby. Assumed it was for you.”
David’s heart leapt into his throat. Mia. “Where?”
But Tina didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Instead, her eyes focused on something behind David. And then the click-clack of heels on the asphalt reached his ears.
David turned around to see Mia, all alone and once again obviously out of place. But then again, David looked that way at the moment, too. Both of them were certainly too well-dressed to be around a rusty fire barrel in a London tramp camp.
“Your lodgings don’t suit you?” Mia asked as she approached. She was staring at David with a half-smile on her face.
“I wanted to be with my friends,” David replied. He was grateful to Mia, of course, but that didn’t mean he was going to leave Mick, Giles, and the rest of the invisibles behind so quickly. They had all helped him with his plan as well.
“Admirable. But it does make it a little harder to have a casual conversation.”
David furrowed his brow and pulled his phone out of his pocket to check for missed calls or text messages. Mia held up a hand to stop him.
“I prefer sneaking up whenever possible, Señor. I can’t be sure that Cassandra isn’t keeping an eye on my communications, particularly while we’re in close proximity to each other.”
“Cassandra? Like, the princess’s cousin?” Rufus asked suddenly, with great interest.
Mia looked over at him, but David spoke.
“Rufus used to work in the palace. Another one of Cassie’s victims.”
Mia looked back at David. “I imagine there will be even more of them before she leaves London.”
“Yeah,” David replied. “In fact, just today, I saw her entering the palace staffer’s office. Probably to get someone else fired.”
“I should start a support group,” Rufus joked dryly. “Recovering victims of Cassie.”
David and a few others around the fire chuckled, though everyone was still rather subdued. Mia simply raised her eyebrows. “There’s also a chance that she was getting someone loyal hired.”
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