Spring Romance: NINE Happily Ever Afters

by Tessa Bailey

  My chest tightened, and a flush raced through my body. He’d acted like he was issuing an order, but it was absolutely a request, and one he was hoping I’d agree to.

  “All right.”

  His smile was devious and sexy as hell.

  But the excitement in me died as the event coordinator waved us through the door.

  “Ready?” Royce asked.

  “Nope.” But out we went.

  Attached to the back of the Hale house was an enormous stone balcony, and steps led down to the gardens where tables had been set up on the grass lawn. Strings of globe lights hung overhead, an artificial glowing spider’s web.

  We strolled across the balcony, moving as quickly as my dress and heels would allow, and when we reached the top of the stairs, Royce pulled me to a stop. I looked down at the kingdom before us while my heart raced in my chest. There were a million faces staring up at us, all dressed to the nines and glasses of champagne in their hands. It wasn’t just the cream of the crop of Cape Hill, it was celebrities and socialites from across the globe.

  “The man of the hour, and the newest addition to the Hale Banking and Holding Company’s board of directors.” The voice boomed from speakers discreetly hidden behind potted plants that had been brought in. “Mr. Royce Hale, accompanied by Miss Marist Northcott.”

  The applause was loud, filled with cheers and whistles.

  Royce let go of my hand, only so he could slip it around my waist and hold me close. I stared up at him as cameras flashed, reminding me of all the press who’d begged me for an invite.

  The prince at my side waved to the crowd. He legit waved to his adoring subjects, like it was an everyday occurrence. It looked like they were all eating it up too.

  How many of them knew the version of Royce I did? Probably none of them.

  “Chin up,” he said under his smile, his lips barely moving.

  My chin lifted, I pulled on my smile, and swung my attention toward the audience at the base of the steps. A few of the people from my high school years were dispersed in the crowd. Sycophants to the Hales who’d looked down on me. Yet I was the one looking down now, wasn’t I? Did Royce’s arm around my waist puzzle them? Did it make the girls who’d been merciless bitches to me green with envy?

  My smile grew wider.

  Done posing at the top of the steps, he offered his arm to escort me, and I took it, grasping my skirt with my free hand. It was a regal march down the stone staircase that had been temporarily covered in red carpet as Alice had insisted the party be themed ‘Old Hollywood.’

  We’d barely finished our descent before people rushed at us, congratulating him on his promotion and gushing about my dress.

  It turned out to be easy to mingle when I was attached to Royce. No one wanted to talk to me. Hell, they didn’t really want to talk to Royce either—they wanted to talk at him. Because the party was so huge, they knew their face time with him was limited and they needed to make an impression.

  He played his role flawlessly. He stayed engaged in the conversations and was witty, while I just smiled and nodded, offering nothing but my ability to turn oxygen into carbon dioxide.

  “You better go while there’s a break,” Royce said when the couple he’d been talking with left to get another drink. “I see more people incoming, and I don’t have an exit strategy.”

  I didn’t want to abandon him, but I was eager to escape. “Are you sure?”

  “Go.” He brushed a kiss at my hairline in a gesture that seemed like we’d been doing it for years. “I’ll see you in a few.”

  I’d spotted my family standing near the rose garden, and in my haste, I wasn’t paying attention to the faces around me.

  “Marist.” A male hand grasped my elbow, pulling me to a stop. “Hey.”

  The first thought I had when I saw him was that I couldn’t run in my dress, no matter how badly I wanted to. “Richard.” It came out forced and too-bright. “How are you?”

  “I’m great. I was just accepted into the Leadership Fellows program at Randhurst, actually.”

  “Oh,” I said. My gaze flicked to my parents, who seemed miles away. “Congrats. That’s awesome.”

  “Thanks. I’m excited.” Richard’s curious gaze swept over me. “How about you? You look so different than the last time we saw each other.”

  Was that supposed to be a compliment? “I’m starting my final year in economics at Etonsons.”

  “Wow, cool.” He didn’t bother to make it sound believable. “Hey, so you and Royce?” He leaned in as if we were going to share a secret. “How’d that happen?”

  I didn’t have time for this. “I seduced him.”

  Richard laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard, but when I didn’t crack a smile, he sobered. “No shit. Really?”

  I sighed. “If you’ll excuse—”

  A man stepped in and joined our two-person circle, making my exit impossible.

  Richard brightened. “Dad. This is Marist Northcott. I don’t know if you remember her. We went to homecoming together one year.”

  Liam Shaunessy extended a hand and a smile to me as if all the shit he’d done in the darkened dining room an hour ago had never happened. “Hello. Liam Shaunessy.”

  It would be rude not to shake his hand, so I had no choice. “Prom,” I said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “It was the prom,” I repeated. “Richard and I . . . Not homecoming.”

  Richard clapped his hands together, suddenly remembering. “Oh, yeah.”

  “I have to go. I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

  Mr. Shaunessy’s smile was normal, but I felt his words were loaded with double meaning. “It was nice seeing you, Marist.”

  I wove my way through the crowd, and when I finally made my way to my family, I began to regret my decision. My father was deep in conversation with one of his co-workers, my sister stared at me like I’d been diagnosed with cancer, and my mother’s eyes brimmed with tears.

  “You look gorgeous,” she said. She reached out, her fingers tracing the diamonds at my throat. Her voice fell to a hush. “Is that my necklace?”

  Technically, no, but I was happy she was happy. I nodded.

  “But Mr. Costolli said he’d sold it.”

  “He did. He sold it to Royce.”

  Her fingers paused. “Oh.” Her face fell. “Royce owns it now?”

  “He, uh, gave it to me.”

  She drew back like the icy diamonds had suddenly scorched her fingers. “What?” Disapproval splashed on her face. “No, Marist. It’s too much money.” She tipped her head down and looked at me with seriousness. “A man who gives you something like that is going to expect a great deal in return.”

  Emily looked like she was going to be ill.

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “We’re way past that point.”

  My mother froze. “What?”

  I shouldn’t have said anything. “I’m kidding.” I tried to deflect. “Have you had any of the food yet? I’m starving.”

  I still had no appetite, but perhaps Royce’s ability to lie was rubbing off on me.

  My mother looked at me dubiously, but then gave up. “I liked the spring rolls better than the caviar.”

  I wanted to talk to Emily alone, but as our mother prattled on about her friends and their dresses, my window closed. I only had a few minutes left before I needed to meet Royce at the fountain. Who knew who might stop me along the way? Hopefully no more board members.

  “Find me later,” she whispered and clutched me tightly when I said my goodbyes.

  Tables covered in white linens were dotted with black cloth napkins and surrounded the temporary dancefloor. Since it was not yet in use, I cut through it and made my way toward the entrance to the hedge maze. I was nearly there when Sophia Alby stepped in front of me, blocking my way with a smile that was as plastic as her nose.

  “Marist, hey! Can we take a selfie together real quick?” She scrambled to pull her phone from her clu
tch which perfectly matched her gold sequined dress.

  Of all the mean girls at Cape Hill Prep, Sophia had been the queen. When Royce said I was a ‘nobody’ all those years ago, he’d been talking to her. He’d created the virus of my social disease, and she’d been the one to disperse it far and wide.

  “You want a selfie?” I wrinkled my nose. “With me?”

  “Um, yeah.” Her silly laugh was tinny and grating. “You look amazing, and we’re friends.”

  Wait, what? Was she on drugs?

  Sophia must have assumed I was okay with it when I hadn’t moved. She cast an arm around my shoulder and held up her phone at the same high position Alice had done earlier. I bet if I had measured the angle, it would have matched perfectly.

  “Smile!” she said in a sing-song voice.

  My cheeks were already worn out and I was only an hour into the party, but I did the best I could. She snapped a few pictures, examined the results on her screen, and looked satisfied.

  “Want me to send them to you?” she asked.

  My filter temporarily shorted out from overuse. “What for?” When Sophia’s face twisted, I went into damage control. I plastered on a bright smile. “Just tag me in them and I’ll repost.”

  She liked that idea a lot. “Oh, perfect!”

  “I have to run. I think Royce is waiting on me.”

  She nodded like she was an understanding friend, and I began to wonder if she was delusional or suffered revisionist history from our time in high school. “Of course,” she said. “Tell him I said hi.”

  “Right,” I ground out through my toothy grin.

  There was a velvet rope drawn across the entrance and a sign hanging from it that announced no guests were permitted in the hedge maze, but no one stopped me when I slipped behind it and disappeared between the walls of dense evergreen.

  Pebbles crunched underfoot as I wound deeper into the maze, and I was sure the underside of the train of my dress was going to look awful, but I kept going. The sun was low in the evening sky and the high walls of the hedges cast shadows, but the landscape lighting was already on. Warm, diffused light glowed along the narrow corridors and illuminated the statues standing guard at the dead ends.

  The buzz from the party dimmed, and I let out a tight breath. It was lovely being here alone in the maze. A few fireflies floated in the air, their yellow flash so quick it was over by the time I focused in on it.

  I didn’t remember the correct route to the center, but I also may have forgotten it on purpose. It was fun to wander and guess, and more times than not, I’d found myself facing a stone cast Aphrodite or reproduction of the Venus de Milo.

  Just when I started to worry about the man waiting for me, I turned a corner and the hedges parted. They bowed into a circle, and the tiered, bubbling fountain lay in the center. Glass votive candles flickered along the wide rim of its pool, which doubled as a bench.

  The space was gorgeous and romantic.

  Royce was a vision as he sat there beneath the fountain in his tuxedo, his elbows resting on his knees and his head hung. It stole my breath.

  “The man of the hour,” I said softly.

  He lifted his head and his intense, hungry eyes focused in on me. As he rose deliberately to his feet, his expression was ravenous, and excitement surged inside my chest. We were alone, and there was magic all around us. It hummed in every drop of water that rained down in the fountain. It sang in each flame burning in the ring of candles surrounding it.

  And it lived in every shallow breath Royce and I took together.

  “Come here.” He spoke quietly, as not to break the spell. “I want to ask you something.”

  There was rustling as my dress train dragged over the pebbled path. I was nearly to him when his hand slipped into his pocket. This time, the black box he held was much smaller and the world slowed to a stop.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Royce was nervous as he propped open the box and knelt by the edge of my skirt.

  “Oh, my God,” I cried. My hand flew to the center of my chest, perhaps to stop my heart from getting ahead of the rest of me.

  I hadn’t expected anything like this. There’d been no stipulation laid out for Royce to get down on one knee and propose. I’d half expected Alice to present me with a ring this afternoon, let me know when the engagement was going to be official, and when I was supposed to slip it on.

  Mostly, I hadn’t expected to feel this way. As if this proposal were real.

  Like we were real.

  As fucked up as today had been, the initiation had accomplished at least one of its goals—I felt bound to Royce. We’d survived and gotten each other through it.

  The ring was beautiful. The center was a huge, cushion-cut solitaire, bordered all around by smaller diamonds, and a fading beam of sunlight made it glitter wildly against the black velvet box. The Costolli logo was imprinted on the inside of the lid, and I pictured Mr. Costolli sweet-talking Royce into buying the engagement ring when he’d come in for the necklace.

  “I know,” Royce started, “this looks like I’m asking you to marry me, and I am.” His heart seemed to be racing as fast as mine was, given how quickly his chest moved.

  Didn’t he know I was going to say yes?

  His eyes were as clear as the diamond he was presenting to me. “I’m not stupid, Marist. We both came into this arrangement with goals that have nothing to do with each other, or love, but I’m an ambitious man. Eventually,” his words had gravity, pulling me under, “I will want it all.”

  The only thing moving in this world were the glowing fireflies around us, sparks and flashes of brilliance in the summer night.

  “This ring is yours no matter what. You can take it and the necklace and the check for five million and run. I’ll understand if that’s the choice you need to make.” He took a deep breath. “Or you can stay, and every day you wear this ring I’ll know you’re still with me.”

  “Royce,” I breathed, reaching for him.

  But he drew back, and his expression shuttered. “Wait. You need to understand what you’re agreeing to. I’m playing the long game here, Marist. Today was probably only the beginning.”

  That gave me pause. “What?”

  “My father’s like me—he’s a different person behind closed doors. He’ll use us against each other. He’ll do it if it helps him get what he wants, or even if he just thinks it’ll be fun.” He drew the ring from its perch in the box and held it up. “So, I’m asking you to marry me. But also to trust me, and when it’s all over, to give us a chance to have . . . more.”

  He was Hades, wanting to take me to the underworld and be his bride, and this ring was the pomegranate seed that would make me stay. I chose to go with the version of the myth where Persephone took it willingly.

  “Yes,” I murmured.

  Both our hands were trembling as he slipped the ring onto my finger, and then he was on his feet, his arms wrapped around me, and his mouth covered mine. The kiss had barely begun before the disembodied voice of the announcer asked people to find their seats. Dinner would be served shortly.

  Royce laced our fingers together and led us back to the start of the maze, knowing exactly which turn to take, and I wondered if he could run the whole thing in his sleep. We tried to sneak out without anyone noticing, but Alice once again was waiting to ambush us. Only this time, it was with her phone. She snapped pictures of us and my new ring, promising to post our “fairy tale engagement” as soon as Macalister’s toast was over.

  I sat at the head table with the rest of the Hales, sandwiched between Royce and Vance. My hand was in my lap, hidden beneath the tablecloth, and I fidgeted nervously with the ring as Macalister walked toward the microphone stand.

  “Before I forget,” Royce said, his expression alight with amusement, “I hope I haven’t set a dangerous precedent. No more black boxes. That ring is the last piece of jewelry you’re getting from me for a while.”

  I faked horror. “What? No earri
ngs?”

  Royce smirked. “Mr. Costolli tried.”

  When it was clear Macalister was ready, a hush descended on the lawn.

  His toast was brief. He talked about Royce’s tenacious work ethic and how proud he was as a father. He acknowledged the rest of the board for welcoming his son and said great things were in store at HBHC. It was a speech that hit all the right notes but lacked any real emotion. It left me just as cold as every conversation I’d had with Macalister.

  I’d decided to take Alice’s advice and not think about my time in the dining room. Those memories would stay there until I was ready to deal with them.

  “Lastly, it gives me great pleasure,” Macalister said, “to announce we have something additional to celebrate this evening.” His smile was flawless. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he looked genuinely happy. “Royce asked Marist Northcott to be his wife just a few minutes ago . . . and she’s accepted.”

  The stunned silence only lasted a single second, but it felt like it dragged on forever. Then, the gasps and smattering of applause rang out, followed by every head turning to look at us. The expressions in the sea of faces ranged from confused to suspicious. All of Cape Hill put me under a microscope and began looking for flaws.

  It was my nightmare come to life.

  But Royce had his arm around the back of my chair, and when the crowd swung their judgmental scrutiny our way, his hand was on my shoulder. He leaned into me, nuzzling a kiss in the side of my neck and whispered in my ear, “Pretend you like me.”

  It worked because his ridiculous statement made my tired smile muscles fire and a shy grin slid across my face. Liking him wasn’t something I had to pretend to do.

  * * *

  After dinner was over, the dancefloor opened up, and Royce and I took center stage, swaying to the music and playing our roles as newly engaged lovebirds. It wasn’t that difficult. Was I getting better at pretending, or was it not much of a lie?

  Later, when Royce was occupied with a business discussion, I slipped out in search of Emily. Once I texted her, I discovered she was all the way over at the Hale stables with her friends. I followed the path past the hedge maze and to the narrow private road that led down the hill, and the small barn with the center pitched roof came into view.