The Bachelor Towers: Books 1-3

by Cardello, Ruth

  “Hiding?” The words feel like an accusation. I’m not weak. I’m unwaveringly dependable. Always there when I’m needed. I don’t hide.

  “Circumstances may have made it difficult for you to take care of yourself and your needs, but it didn’t make it impossible. You made choices to block your own joy. It’s time to stop that. Situations like last night, the craziness of it all, will not get you where you need to be. Close the door on that. Random circumstances do not create positive outcomes. We will create positive outcomes.”

  “Last night was crazy, but it all worked out in the end. Brice might be a little full of himself, but he’s not a bad guy. He was actually very helpful.”

  “How many men like that do you have in your life?”

  “What do you mean?” I’m defensive again.

  “The men who are a little bit of this and little bit of that but overall not bad guys. Men who are not right for you. How many men are like that in your life?”

  I nearly tell her that Brice is different. I could fuck him. But I get her point.

  I think of all the other men back home I’ve been friends with my whole life. The guys back at the bar. On the docks. It sums all of them up. “A lot of them I guess.”

  “And you’ve never slept with any of them. Never dated them?”

  “No.” I laugh nervously. “They don’t see me like that. I don’t see them like that either. I’m one of the guys to them.”

  “You surround yourself with these men. Wall yourself in.”

  “I guess.” I squirm a bit. I never saw them that way.

  “It’s possible to have a male friend, but these men are more than that to you. They’re security blankets for you. They stop you from moving on to more intimate relationships. You won’t be able to make a meaningful connection with any man if you continue to surround yourself with unsuitable ones.”

  “I see what you’re saying.”

  “And your jobs,” she says, putting a finger up to her chin thoughtfully. “Working on the docks. Working in a bar. Are there no other jobs where you are from?”

  “I guess there are some.”

  “Yet you picked the ones that have you surrounded by men you aren’t interested in and keep you smelling in a way that would keep any other prospects away. You could have worked at a school. An office building. These were choices. Again, working hard, even in a really dirty job isn’t some disqualifier for finding a healthy experience with a man. I admire what you do. There are strong women who might have jobs that make them smell terrible, but they go home, clean up, and have healthy relationships. Do you follow me?”

  “I do.” My voice is small and sheepish.

  “And being a caregiver. You gave up everything to care for a dying family member. It’s honorable. It’s courageous. I also know it’s draining. Thankless. Easy to lose yourself in it. But people are caregivers and still manage to self-care. To preserve themselves and what they want.”

  “I didn’t do that.”

  “I know.”

  “I lost myself in it.”

  “Savannah, you are wielding these things, these choices, like a sword. You cut down and swipe at any opportunity of finding what you deserve. I’m not a doctor, and I don’t need to know what made you think you don’t deserve better to recognize the pattern of what you’ve been doing. It’s time to put those weapons down and redefine your life.”

  I hear her. I believe her. Straight talk is painful but important. It’s why I’m here. But for some reason I feel the need to explain one thing. “I’m already changing a little. Brice is not like the men in Coppertop. He’s not even my friend. Just a man who was nice enough to help me out. A gorgeous man—so there’s that.”

  She doesn’t look impressed. “Put him behind you. Part of this process is finding a certain kind of man for you to have your first experience. The ones you’ll meet through me will be vetted. Clean background. Good intentions. Safe. Healthy. I’ll find you that man. We’ll get you to a place where you won’t feel you need to hide any side of yourself. You’ll find your passion on the inside first—with confidence. And things will begin to happen. Take a class. Apply for a job you think is out of your reach. You’ll have a makeover, but going to the spa is just the beginning. I’ll schedule appointments and assign tasks. If you follow my advice, you will look amazing. Feel amazing. And have incredible sex with a good man. Claim your space, your life, and start enjoying it.”

  How could I turn that down?

  “I’m in,” I say with a smile. “Thank you for giving me this chance.”

  “And of course, you tell no one about any of this.”

  “I understand.”

  “I hope you do. You’ll receive the paperwork via a courier. Where are you staying?”

  I tell her the address. “I rented the apartment for the month. I have my ID sorted out and access to my funds. No more chaos.”

  “Good. Get settled in your new place and expect to hear from me soon. Remember, no distractions. Not if you want this to work.”

  “No distractions.” How hard can that be, considering I don’t know anyone in the city? “I promise I’m committed to this process.”

  Jana stands, which I take as my cue that our meeting is over. She walks me to her office door. “Some people call me a life coach, but I see myself more as a fellow traveler on this walk through life. We only get one shot at this journey. You’ve kept your life very small, my friend. Claim your space. Breathe in the possibilities.”

  “I’m ready to.”

  “Settle into your place and explore the city. If the past comes knocking, don’t answer. Old patterns will only get you back to the very place you’re trying to escape.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Brice

  “Follow her,” I bark into the phone, knowing I’m going to draw protest from Charles. Most people in his position would never question my orders. But it’s why my father sent him. He would die for me, but he also doesn’t hold back his opinion when he thinks I’m wrong. He’s known me too long.

  “I’m under direct orders to protect you.”

  “Charles, you spent time with Savannah. She’s trusting to a dangerous fault. She just left a meeting with Jana Monroe. Who knows where she’s sending her? People like Savannah go missing. I refuse to let that happen.”

  I disconnect the line without giving him a chance to argue. His duty might be to protect me, but Charles would never let an innocent come to harm.

  I roll my neck. I’m tired. I’m distracted. My last meeting with Savannah should have been just that—the end of this craziness.

  When my phone rings I’m hopeful it’s one of my fellow tenants at Bachelor Tower. I’ve made the necessary connections, all I need to do is stay the course for one of them to pay off.

  My mother’s voice snaps me to attention. “Who is this woman you have Simon looking into?”

  “Hello, Mother.” She doesn’t sound pleased with me, and I can understand why, but it’s still nice to hear her voice. This is the longest I’ve been away from our country.

  “Don’t hello Mother me. Your father and I are losing patience with your American vacation. You’re beginning to worry us.”

  My mother has a flair for the dramatic. I blame the American soap operas she’s obsessed with. “There’s nothing to worry about, Mother.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Now tell me about this woman.”

  “She’s someone I met in an elevator.” That was true.

  “Why is Simon working with a private detective regarding her? Who is Jana Monroe?”

  The real question was why Simon hadn’t kept that tidbit to himself, but I already knew why. His first loyalty would always be to the ruler of our country, and that wasn’t me. It never would be. I was okay with my role in the family, but it was frustrating that it was working against me even while I was fighting for its future.

  “Safety sometimes requires hyper vigilance. Both were in my building. I thought it was important to know m
ore about them.”

  “Hyper vigilance,” she parrots back as if weighing my claim. “Safety is important. You’re far from home. When are you planning to return? Before the announcement of your brother’s engagement, I hope.”

  “Of course.” I’m still determined to make that announcement unnecessary.

  “I miss you, Bricelion.” Her voice breaks with emotion. “I can’t sleep; the family is scattered.”

  I remind myself my trip here is for them. For the future of our family. For my brother. For our country.

  “I’ll be home soon enough.”

  “You never call.” She sounds wounded, and it inflicts a blow.

  I’ve avoiding speaking to my parents because I don’t want to lie to them about what I’m doing. “I’ll call more. I’ve been very busy.”

  “On what?” she scoffs. “What are you doing in Boston? Charles won’t tell us anything, which I say means he’s the wrong guard to have sent. Your father says it means the opposite.”

  For once I agree with my father.

  Rare.

  I should add this date to a calendar in case it never happens again. He and I could argue about the time the sun came up.

  My decision to come to Boston came out of one of our last talks. In my country a royal marriage is a political decision. Economic stability was driving the union between Mathias and a princess who also deserved more of a voice in the decision. Arranged marriages are archaic and dangerous because they stop my family from reaching for more modern solutions.

  The pillars of our culture need to be supported internally. The future economy is technology based, and I’m determined to bring Calvadria into the twenty-first century. I’m gambling my inheritance that sustainable wealth is better found in a boardroom than in a walk down an aisle with a stranger.

  “I’m sorry you’re worried.” I clear my throat. “I’ll call more.”

  “What’s this building you’re staying in? The Bachelor Tower? Is it some kind of brothel? I don’t like what I’ve read about it.”

  The last thing I want to discuss with my mother is a brothel. “It’s just a building for successful men who want to discuss business without the distraction of women.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I regret them.

  “Oh, I thought you liked women.”

  I want out of this conversation, but I need to say something to appease her or she’ll appear with half the Royal Guard and drag my ass home. “I do. I needed someplace where I could clear my head. Mathias is taking a big step soon, and I felt it was time I do as well. I’m enjoying learning the ins and outs of American business culture.”

  “You sound like you’re growing up, Bricelion,” she said, and I winced. As the wilder of her two sons, I’d earned that backhanded compliment.

  “Have to go. Busy day. I have plans with my concubines at the brothel. Then a jog through the worst parts of town with my headphones to buy some pills from a guy so I can relax. You know, vacation stuff.”

  “My heart is too weak for these jokes.”

  “I doubt that. Although, you might not want to tell Father I said that.”

  “Trust me, I wasn’t planning to. Oh, and call Mathias. He hasn’t looked happy since you left.”

  Yes, I’m sure it’s my absence rather than his life sentence of a marriage with a stranger. That couldn’t possibly be bringing him down.

  “I will.”

  “You would tell me if you were in Boston for a woman, wouldn’t you?”

  “Good night, Mother.”

  Given two possibilities, my mother found it easier to imagine I was in Boston to hook up with someone than believe my claim to be learning about the culture of American business. I was both relieved and a little insulted.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Savannah

  My apartment.

  I take a moment to soak in the beauty of the building. I’ve already been inside and was pleasantly surprised it appears all I’ll need to buy is a new wardrobe. Furnished, thankfully, this time means with everything.

  Finally, my luck is turning around.

  Someone else might dismiss its exterior as plain, but to me it looks perfectly solid and modern . . . just like the life I intend to build for myself.

  My apartment. Everyone I know who left Coppertop, Maine always had an apartment of their own. Or a dorm. Or backpacked through Europe in hostels. I had a bedroom in my grandmother’s house for most my life. Since my father died. Since no one else wanted me. That’s all I had. Jana is right. The space I’ve chiseled out for myself is much too small. But now I have my apartment. It’s a start.

  I read a few articles about this side of town. Up and coming. Sophisticated. I couldn’t believe the deal I got on the fourth-floor apartment. Furnished. Walking distance to amazing restaurants. Public transportation right around the corner. I’ll be living this urban life. Meeting people who live and breathe the city.

  “Hi.” There’s a woman next to me with a bobbed haircut and big sunglasses. She’s watching me stare at the building. “Are you looking for someone?”

  There’s a baby on her hip and a toddler in the stroller she’s pushing. She’s rocking back and forth in that way mothers do.

  “I just moved in.”

  “Oh nice. We live here too. How many do you have?”

  “How many what?” I should probably be prepared to sound like an idiot for a while. This is probably some kind of city lingo I don’t know.

  “Kids?”

  “Uh, none.”

  “None? I hope you like kids.” She lets out a tired laugh then adjusts the heavy baby on her hip. The toddler throws his sippy cup across the pavement and squeals.

  I retrieve it and smile as I hand it back. The second he has the cup back, he launches it again.

  “I’ll take the cup,” the woman says, sounding defeated. “He thinks we like to play fetch. The more you give it back to him the farther he throws it.”

  “Why did you say I should like kids?” I ask, turning my head up curiously.

  “This building. It’s families. Most of us have young kids. It’s what the building is known for.”

  “I didn’t realize.”

  “It wasn’t always like this.” She rocks the stroller back and forth as she sways the baby on her hip. “Then two really amazing schools opened and drew all of us in. Are you new to Boston?”

  “Very.”

  “Here alone? Like single?”

  “Yep.”

  “And you’re renting a place here in the building? You poor girl. I hope you weren’t planning on bringing a date back here. This building is six floors of birth control. Men get a whiff of sour milk and dirty diapers and they go running for the hills. And if you’re smart don’t get chatty with anyone’s husband. That never works out well. But welcome.”

  When her child’s shrieking hits a new octave, she finally hustles them into the building, leaving me on the curb looking up at the six floors of crushed dreams. My liberating bachelorette pad just turned into an unruly preschool.

  Day one and I’ve already received my first threat, well-meaning as it probably was. I’m tempted to chase after her and tell her I don’t need to dip into their stash of men—I’ve lined up my own. Vetted ones. Isn’t that what Jana said?

  I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but hopefully it started with not married.

  I take two steps toward the entrance of the building then freeze as one of the windows reflects an outline of someone sitting on a bench across the street. A man.

  Is that?

  No. It can’t be.

  “Charles?” I call as I spin quickly and jab a finger through the air in his direction. “Are you following me?”

  He looks down at his phone as if he didn’t hear me, but I know he did. I start walking toward him.

  He’s on his feet, looking both ways as if about to dart across the street to escape me.

  “Stop,” I call out.

  Surprisingly he does.

 
“Miss Savannah. Small world.”

  “Yeah, except it’s not. Why are you here?”

  “Here?”

  “Did Brice have you follow me?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Okay, then give me your phone.” I put my palm out to him and stand there expectantly. Unwavering.

  He plucks his phone from his pocket and pulls up Brice’s number before handing it over.

  “Charles, what did you find?”

  “He found me.” Okay, so I didn’t exactly think through what to say to a rich man who seems to have asked his bodyguard to be mine.

  “What have you done with Charles? Is this a ransom call? What are your demands for his safe return?” His joke is cute but I don’t laugh.

  “Why do you have Chucky Doll watching me?”

  “Mostly because I assumed he was skilled enough to not be seen. Apparently I was wrong. He may have to dust off his résumé. I think he’d make a great clown for kids’ parties. The shoes would fit.”

  “Is this all a joke to you? You’re not funny.”

  “Have you been talking to my mother?”

  “What?”

  “Give Charles back his phone. I’ll call him off.”

  “But why is he here in the first place?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were staying somewhere safe.”

  “I told you I was.”

  “Our definitions of what is safe are not in tune.” Without missing a beat, he asked, “How did your meeting go?”

  I huff out my annoyance. “Better than expected. She’s still willing to work with me.” I stop there. I’ve already said too much, at least according to the very strict nondisclosure paperwork Jana already sent over.

  She won’t like anything I’m doing. My life makeover probably shouldn’t involve whatever Brice and I are doing. What are we doing? I didn’t expect to see him again. According to Jana, I’m supposed to close the door on him. To forget his dimple. His large hands. The bulge in his pants I traced with my eyes that first night on the elevator.

  “I understand why you might be concerned for me. I didn’t give you a great first impression. But everything is right back on track for me now. So, although I appreciate you watching out for me, it’s not necessary.”