The Royals Series

by Bay, Louise

  I nodded. The dress was beautiful on her, though it was a lot like a bigger version of something an eight-year-old might wear. And if Max would like it and she didn’t, then we wouldn’t even show it to him. “Try the royal blue one. I think it would look great against your black hair, and silver accessories would go beautifully with it. It’s more sophisticated.”

  She turned and swept up her hair and I realized she was asking me to unzip her. “Would you wear it?” she asked as I helped her out of her dress.

  I nodded. “Yes. It’s beautiful. Not that I would have anywhere to wear a dress like that.” I closed the curtain so she could dress in private.

  “On a date?” she asked. “Do you have a boyfriend yet?”

  My stomach flipped over as I remembered our conversation in the laundry room. Had she told Max anything I’d said? I glanced at the exit to the changing rooms. Could Max hear our interaction? “No, not at the moment.”

  “You’re super pretty. When I’m older, I want to love my job, but I want someone to love me, too.” I’d not ruled out love. It had just never found me. Maybe Grace was right and I was looking for perfection. “My dad’s like you. Always busy with work. He always says that between work and me, he has more than enough for any man.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at that. She clearly wanted her dad’s approval, and I was getting the impression the two of them actually talked. Maybe they were closer than I thought. “Do you hang out a lot?” I asked, lowering my voice.

  “Me and my dad? Yeah. Like all the time,” she replied.

  Before I got a chance to ask Amanda more questions about her and Max’s relationship, she opened the curtain, grinning. “I really like this one,” she said, stepping out in a long skirt of pleated crepe, which had a slit up the side.

  “It’s really pretty.” I leaned forward to even out the skirt. “I love it. This looks beautiful.” The shoulders were a contrasting silver material that came down and crisscrossed around her bust, in a Greek-like style. There was no cleavage, but at the same time it was dramatic. “And it looks gorgeous against your hair. Let me grab some shoes. Stay there.”

  As I walked out of the dressing rooms, my eyes met Max’s as he looked up from his phone.

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Just getting some shoes.”

  As I passed, he grabbed my wrist. I froze. Almost immediately he dropped my hand. “Sorry. I just wanted to say thank you. This means a lot to Amanda.”

  I nodded but didn’t look at him. My brain was misfiring. One minute Max was thanking me for making his daughter happy, the next he was yelling at me if I didn’t get his sandwich order right. And then there were those kisses.

  And I couldn’t quite work out the dynamic between Max and Amanda. He seemed quite involved in Amanda’s life. More than I’d thought. But if he’d never been married to her mother, how had that worked? It had never worked with my father.

  I grabbed a pair of silver sandals with a small heel and rushed back to Amanda.

  “Will he like it? Can we convince him?” she asked, taking the shoes and strapping them up. “This is the one, right?”

  “You know him better than I do, but I think you look beautiful in it.”

  “Daaad,” she called out. “I’m coming out. And I really like this one. It’s perfect, so you can’t be mean.”

  Her smile was so wide, I couldn’t help but smile back. I really hoped he approved. Amanda deserved to wear this dress. It was age appropriate and really elegant.

  She stepped out onto the shop floor and I peeked around the corner at Max’s face. His eyebrows were halfway up his forehead as she twirled around three hundred sixty degrees for him. “What do you think?” she asked.

  He gave a small shake of his head as he stood and took a deep breath. “I think you look far too grown-up.” Amanda’s shoulders slumped. “And completely beautiful.” He pulled her into a hug. “You found your dress, peanut.” He lowered his voice and spoke into her ear as they continued to hug. “You’re growing up so fast; you have to forgive me for wanting to keep you mine for longer than I should.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. He sounded so genuine. So completely besotted with his daughter.

  “I’ll always be yours, Dad,” she said as she smiled. He kissed her on the cheek and released her.

  Max seemed to regain his composure. “Twirl for me again,” he said, lifting her hand in his and pulling his daughter into a spin.

  The skirt of the dress lifted as she turned faster and faster. Max grinned and Amanda giggled. My heart squeezed. It felt as if I were encroaching on what should be a private moment. I should have my own memories like this, not have to steal other people’s.

  * * *

  “You know what this means?” Amanda asked as we stepped out onto the sidewalk, the heat swallowing us up immediately. She carried two white boutique bags, one with the dress and one with the shoes and a bag we’d spotted on the way to the cash register.

  “We let poor Harper get on with her weekend?” Max replied.

  My stomach jolted. Had I overstayed my welcome? I’d just been trying to help. Max didn’t need to be so ungrateful. I opened my mouth to excuse myself, but Amanda took her father’s hand and tried to pull him along the street. “No silly. It means we have something to celebrate.”

  Max rolled his eyes. “As if you need any excuse.”

  “I’ll leave you guys to it. Your dress is beautiful, Amanda.”

  Amanda’s eyes narrowed. “No. You have to come,” she said. “You have to celebrate with us.” She beckoned to me to follow them.

  “You celebrate with your dad,” I replied, glancing in the other direction. Shopping hadn’t really involved much interaction with Max. Most of my time had been spent with Amanda. Other than the cab ride, things hadn’t been too uncomfortable. And seeing Max with Amanda suggested they had a better relationship than I’d ever had with my father. If I left now, I would be ahead. I’d survived without calling my boss an asshole and without getting naked with him. Perhaps there was middle ground. And hopefully the constant comparisons I’d been making between Max and Amanda’s relationship and my father’s and mine would stop.

  “I want you to come,” Amanda said.

  I smiled but before I could think up an excuse, Max intervened. “Amanda, Harper has things to do. We have imposed on her free time enough.”

  He clearly wanted to be rid of me. And I got it. Just days after agreeing to keep things strictly professional, I was standing on a sidewalk with him and his daughter. And even though I wanted to leave, it hurt just a little that he was so keen for me to go.

  Amanda’s face fell. “I don’t want to celebrate without her. If it hadn’t been for Harper, I wouldn’t have found my dress. Are you sure you can’t come? We’re going to my favorite place.”

  I glanced at Max, whose gaze travelled between me and his daughter. The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he was trying to suppress a smile.

  “I’m sure your dad wants to switch off from work and spend time with you—”

  “Daaad,” Amanda said. “You want Harper to come, don’t you?”

  Max ruffled his daughter’s hair and she quickly moved out of reach. He turned to me and gave me the biggest panty-melting smile I’d ever seen, his green eyes dancing against the New York sun, framed by almost too long lashes. “Harper, we’d love for you to come if you can spare the time. But don’t feel you have to give into my daughter’s whining. She’s far too used to getting her own way.”

  Before the sensible side of me—the part enjoying this new middle ground—could run back downtown, I agreed.

  “I suppose I should have asked before I said yes, but where are we celebrating?” I asked as we walked east.

  “Serendipity,” Amanda replied. “It’s our place. We always come in on the train at the end of summer and celebrate going back to school.”

  “From your mom’s?” I asked.

  “From Connecticut. So
metimes my mom and Jason come, but sometimes we come in together. Do you remember that year Aunt Scarlett came as well?” she asked her dad. “She wanted to order one of everything because she couldn’t decide.”

  “She did order one of everything,” Max said. “Which is pretty typical of my sister.”

  “My mom and Jason moved to Europe so it’s just me and Dad now.” She turned back to her dad. “You love having me living with you all the time, don’t you?”

  Max chuckled and glanced at me. “She’s driving me crazy.”

  They lived together?

  “I didn’t realize you lived in Connecticut,” I said. I was fascinated at how the King of Wall Street had a secret life away from Manhattan. I felt like an investigative journalist, putting little scraps of information together.

  “Yeah, near Mom and Jason’s place. And Grandma and Grandpa King and Grand-Bob and Grand-Mary. And Scarlett.”

  “Jesus. It makes us sound like we’re living in some kind of commune.” Max slung his arms around his daughter’s shoulder. “We just all live close. Amanda’s mother, Pandora, and I were in high school together, and it made sense after college to make sure we lived near each other. That way,” he said, turning to Amanda, “when your mother got sick of you, she could get a break and dump you with me.”

  Amanda grinned and rolled her eyes, the explanation clearly something she was used to hearing.

  “So the apartment is just a pied-à-terre?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah. I used to stay in Manhattan all week and go back to the country on weekends, but now I’m only in town two nights a week.”

  Amanda came to an abrupt halt on the sidewalk. “Oh my God. You’ll have to come out, Harper. The night of the dance. Will you help me get ready?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I concentrated on trying not to look too shocked. I really liked Amanda and at every turn, Max kept surprising me. I wanted to encroach on their world a little longer, but I knew it was entirely inappropriate.

  Max cocked his head, indicating she needed to keep walking. “Amanda. That’s enough. You can’t just assume people want to be monopolized by you.”

  We resumed walking north towards Sixtieth. “Why not? Grandma says that I get all my charm from her and that God skipped a generation with you.”

  I laughed and Max rolled his eyes.

  Thankfully, Amanda’s attention had been diverted away from me. “Oh, I meant to say that I’ve decided I want to enter that piano competition next semester,” she said.

  “I thought we checked a few months ago and you have gymnastics the night of the practice, or will the schedule change next semester?” Max asked.

  He seemed to have an intricate knowledge of his daughter’s schedule, which if someone had told me yesterday, I would have thought it impossible. But as the day wore on, it was clear he was more involved in his daughter’s life than I’d given him credit for.

  “Well, gymnastics is at six and then piano is at eight. So I think I can do both if we can get Marion to drive me.”

  This was such a different version of Max King—warm, open, and relaxed. So far removed from the impatient, ruthless man who’d founded King & Associates, to the demanding, sexy man who worked my body as if it belonged to him. This Max King was a father and a family man.

  Thunder cracked above us. “I told you it was going to rain,” Max said. “Come on.” He held his hand out for me and then, as if he remembered who we were to each other, withdrew it and nodded up Third Avenue as if we were nearly there instead of two blocks away.

  We weren’t going to make it. Generous dots of rain began to color the ground.

  “Come on, Harper,” Amanda called as she and Max started to run.

  Amanda pointed at a flash of light above us and began to count, “One banana, two banana, three banana, four banana.” Thunder ended her countdown and Amanda squealed. “Quick, it’s nearly here.”

  I ran behind them as we wove in between tourists and underneath umbrellas. As we arrived at Serendipity, the lightning flashed again and the rain began to fall more heavily. “Let’s get inside,” I said, and we piled into an already crowded entrance and waited to be seated.

  “Do I look like a drowned rat, Dad?” Amanda asked, beaming up at her father. She was a beautiful girl who had inherited the large green eyes, olive skin, and near-black hair from her father.

  Max chuckled. “A little bit.”

  I wiped my under eyes, trying to remove the inevitable mascara leak. “I’m sure I look like Alice Cooper,” I said.

  “You look very pretty, like from a movie or something,” Amanda said. “Doesn’t she, Dad?”

  I shook my head and a soaked strand of hair plastered itself against my cheek. To my surprise, Max reached out and tucked it around my ear. Heat coursed through me and I wanted to reach for his hand, push my fingers through his. But instead I concentrated on the waitress behind Max, worried I’d lose control if I looked at him, maybe pull him into a kiss as I did that first night we were together.

  He quickly turned back to Amanda and took her face in her hands. “Not as pretty as my drowned rat,” he replied.

  “Gah. That’s why I’m never going to get a baby sister.” She twisted away from him. “You need to learn to give ladies compliments, or you’ll never get married.”

  Married? I kept my eyes firmly on the restaurant, hoping my makeup hid the red in my cheeks. For the first time since leaving the dress store, I felt as if I shouldn’t be here. Our conversation in the laundry room came back to me. She wanted her dad to find someone. Was Amanda trying to set us up? She had to know that Max and I were . . . We weren’t involved like that, weren’t ever going to be involved like that.

  Chapter Ten

  Max

  The day with Harper and Amanda had been far . . . easier than I expected. After finally getting on the train back to Connecticut, Amanda couldn’t stop talking about her dress and Harper and how much she liked her. And I hadn’t stopped her.

  “We could invite Harper to dinner,” Amanda said as she set out the knives and forks on the counter in the kitchen.

  “Maybe . . . at some point.” Would she like it here? Would she like me here? I wasn’t sure.

  “Well it will be the dance soon anyway. Harper will come then for sure.”

  I wasn’t sure Harper had actually accepted that invitation. But Amanda was happy and that was all I could wish for. The fact Harper had picked out a perfect dress didn’t hurt. I’d wondered if she’d secretly try something trashy, just to mess with me, get her own back for me being an asshole. I wouldn’t have blamed her but she hadn’t. She’d been bright and beautiful and all about Amanda. And I’d found myself wanting to extend our time together, keep her for a little bit longer.

  “Who’s Harper,” my sister, Violet, asked. I smelled an interrogation brewing, and my instinct was to press pause on this situation and escape.

  “I told you, the girl that works with dad who helped me pick out the dress.”

  “I thought a friend of yours had gone shopping with you,” Violet said to Amanda, trying to catch my eye, but I deliberately busied myself with the salad.

  “She is a friend of mine,” Amanda replied. “She lives in the same building in the city as dad.”

  “And she works with your father?” Violet asked as she reached over the counter and took a chunk of cucumber and popped it in her mouth. I glanced at Amanda, who was nodding. “That seems like a strange coincidence.” She lowered her voice. “You see a pretty girl in the corridor of your building and offer her a job sharpening your pencils?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I replied and handed her the salad to put on the counter.

  A bang on the door caused Amanda to squeal. “Scarlett!” My sisters were determined to overrun me tonight. Violet lived in Brooklyn, so we didn’t see her as often as Scarlett, but she still made an effort to come over once a month. I liked my sisters, but the fewer there were of them in a room at any one time, the better. I gr
abbed a bottle of Pinot Noir from the counter and uncorked it.

  “Hey, asshole,” Scarlett said as she entered the family room.

  “Nice to see you, too.” I handed her a glass of wine and kissed her on the cheek.

  “I’m serious. Why didn’t you call me back?” Scarlett asked.

  “When?” I asked. I didn’t remember getting a message.

  “I left you a voicemail telling you about my friend April,” Scarlett said as she dropped her purse on the counter and took a stool. “She asked me to fix you two up, although God knows why.”

  “I didn’t get the message.” Or maybe I’d only listened halfway through and deleted it before she could get to the bit about April. “Sorry.”

  “So?” she asked.

  “So what?” I asked, wanting her to change the subject. I turned back to the oven, taking out the lasagna the housekeeper had left. I never wanted to date my sisters’ friends. I was surprised they were still trying. My life was full to the brim.

  “So will you take her out?” she asked as if I were stupid. To be fair, I was being deliberately obstructive. I just didn’t need my sisters interfering with my dating life. I was happy with things as they were.

  “Looks like April may have competition,” Violet said. Scarlett shot her a look and Violet shrugged. “We’ve been talking a lot about Harper this evening. She’d definitely get Amanda’s seal of approval.”

  I’d never had to concern myself with whether Amanda would like any of the women I’d been with. She’d never met any of them and that’s the way I liked it. It was simply coincidence Amanda had gotten to meet Harper.

  Scarlett continued to chat on about April, which I could easily drown out. Harper was a little more difficult to bury. “April comes from a lovely family. She’s blonde, which I know you like.”

  Did I like blondes? I wasn’t sure hair color was a deciding factor for me. Harper’s hair was chestnut brown, but had looked almost black in the rain. Images of her standing in the line for Serendipity flashed into my head. She’d looked gorgeous. Her cheeks pinked from running, her eyes bright blue. At one point she’d licked raindrops from her upper lip. It had only been Amanda’s presence that had stopped me from pushing her wet hair from her face, relishing her soft skin under my thumbs, and pressing my lips to hers. If it had been just the two of us, I would have dragged her back to the apartment and spent the afternoon naked and indulging myself in her instead of ice cream.