“Let’s not make this just a one-time thing, okay? I’m like an hour and a half from here. I’d like to hear about our grandmother. My mother wasn’t big on mingling with family, but I reconnected with some of them after she died. They’d love to meet you.”
“I’d love that.”
Joel and I spend a long lunch chatting about things we have in common. Little quirks that solidify us as cousins. The way our thumbs bend in a funny way. Our similar freckles.
After we part, I go over what he said. There was a time when I saw myself the way his mother saw me.
Damaged.
Unlovable.
That’s not me.
I’m a survivor, and a kick-ass one at that.
My story is not defined by others. I’m writing it for myself. I want to meet the family Joel mentioned. They’ll love me or they won’t. Either way, it won’t change how I see myself.
I stop at a store on the way back. Both Claire’s and Ronda’s husbands are working late, so I promised to cook for all of us. We’ll fill Ronda’s kitchen with screaming kids, lively conversation, and laughter.
I have the weekend off from classes and no shifts at the kids’ advocacy center for a few days. The possibilities to fill the time are exciting. I can explore some of Boston’s history. Hit one of the museums I’ve wanted to see. Eat at that new restaurant in the North End with only four tables. Alone or with friends. Either way is okay.
I haven’t been back to Coppertop yet, but I FaceTime with them every couple days. I called them when I signed up for my college courses. I called them when I got a job. Jimmy says the updates always make Jay smile. Murray holds up the phone so I watch karaoke. Lance swears he’s dating someone, but so far no one has seen her.
And I’d be a whole lot thinner if Mrs. Warren stopped sending care packages of cookies. I’ll never ask her to, though. They’re too good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Brice
The sea crashes loudly against the shore as I stand on the balcony of our seaside estate. There’s a storm coming, and the staff is scurrying around making sure the castle is ready for impact. The antiques, like the royal family, must be protected.
“Is it the storm that has you scowling?” Mathias claps a hand on my back before taking a spot beside me.
I turn, resting my back on the railing. “No. Just going over the proposed building plans in my head. We break ground next week.”
Mathias cocks an eyebrow. “You never used to lie to me, Brother.”
I grin. “I believe there were years when seventy-five percent of what I told you was a fabrication. None of the Royal Guards helped me study. We were playing poker and drinking.”
“Shocking, and so unlike you.” He’s smiling.
I shrug. “I might have been a little wild back then.”
“Indeed. And Charles always covered for you. I’ve always envied the relationship you have with the guards. They are loyal to you, and not because it’s their duty to be.”
My head snaps around. That doesn’t sound like Mathias. He didn’t envy anyone. “I was afforded freedoms you weren’t. Father would never have tolerated his first son behaving as I did.”
He grips the railing of the balcony. “That’s my achievement—being born first. It doesn’t measure up somehow to bringing Nintech here.”
Wait. Who is this humble man? And where is my brother? “Has something happened, Mathias?”
“Yes. You freed me from a role I had resigned myself to. You brought real promise of prosperity back to Calvadria. You deserve the crown.”
I spin on my heel toward him. “Oh, hell no. I don’t enjoy performing the first waltz at a ball. I am not interested in being the face of the family. Tourists recognize you, they don’t recognize me, and I prefer it that way.” He looks like he might argue, so I add, “Besides, you’ve got that pretty-boy face the media loves. I’d rather work behind the scenes.”
He gives me a long look. “Now that there is no impending engagement announcement, women follow me everywhere. I feel—hunted.”
I chuckle but stop when I realize he’s serious. “It’s a problem few men would complain about.”
He sighs. “What was it like to be Brice Hastings? To have no one know you were a royal?”
“It was . . . humbling at first. Then invigorating. I didn’t know what I was capable of, but even my failures felt good. They made my eventual success that much sweeter.”
“And yet, you hardly smile anymore. Charles won’t say why. Was there something you found in the States that was hard to leave? Someone, perhaps?”
I weigh his question. It doesn’t feel like he’s asking out of curiosity. We’ve had years when we were close and years when we lived our lives so differently that there was no common ground on which to connect. Never once, though, has Mathias disappointed me. If I need him, he is there. Simple as that.
This time he seems to need me, his brother. So, I tell him about Savannah. Every crazy detail. I conclude with the admission that I still have a Royal Guard watching over her.
“You need to go to her,” he says.
“I believe you missed the point where she told me to leave her alone.”
“You said she wasn’t ready. How do you know she’s not ready now?”
I laugh. “It’s not that simple.”
“Not long ago I thought there was only one path for me. You changed that. It woke me up. You had the courage to challenge hundreds of years of tradition. Are you saying you’re afraid to contact a woman? Did you leave your balls in the US?”
I cough a laugh. My brother is never vulgar. Never. I doubt he ever let out an undignified cry as an infant. Still, that doesn’t mean I agree with him. “She doesn’t know I’m a prince.”
“Men have been forgiven for more serious transgressions.”
Neither of us say anything for a while.
Mathias speaks first. “You didn’t tell her?”
“I did not.”
“If you do not seek out this woman again, I will. Perhaps her taste is more for a king.”
I tense. He’s pushing me. It’s obvious. It shouldn’t be working, but it is. My temper rises. Dark clouds roll toward shore and lightning dances in the sky. “I wonder if I still become king if I’m the one who murders my brother.”
His eyes widen, then he throws back his head and laughs. “So, tell me, are you going to seek her out on your own, or must I race you to her side?”
Two months. All reports of how she is doing have been positive. I want to see her again, but not the way I did before. This time, I want my intentions to be clear from the start. “I can’t kill you since I really don’t have any desire to be king. So it seems, I shall have to arrange to see Savannah again.”
Mathias and I exchange a grin. He wins this round. Although he challenges me, it has been out of kindness, and that is what he will bring to the throne. Mathias promises to explain my absence to our parents. Dignity, yes, but also loyalty and kindness. I can think of no better traits for a king.
As soon as the storm passes, I have Charles ready one of our jets.
“Where to?” he asks.
“Coppertop, Maine.”
“As of our last report, Savannah is still in Boston.”
The storm passes. The sky is as clear as my thoughts. “I understand that, but there’s something there I want to retrieve before I see her again.”
It’s dark by the time I reach Coppertop. I can practically picture Savannah walking these streets with that big smile and smelly jacket.
The bar is tucked away down a narrow road, and I can hear the crowd cheering from the street. There is a boxing match on the large television as I walk in.
Jimmy is behind the bar. He gives me a funny look and then nudges Murray with his elbow. It’s not long before all four men are huddled around me in the only relatively quiet corner of the bar. I take a swig of the beer they hand me.
“What are you doing here?” Jimmy asks, looking unsure if he�
�s supposed to be mad or friendly. Waiting to decide.
“I need your help.”
“Help from us?” Jay asks skeptically.
“Is it about Savannah?” Murray asks.
“Did something happen to her?” Jay asks.
“Nah, he’s probably stalking her again,” Lance says with a roll of his eyes.
“Wait,” Jimmy says, snapping his fingers. “Are you the one who just landed on the air strip with that fancy jet?”
“News travels fast in this town,” I joke.
“Bet your ass,” Jimmy says.
“You have a jet?” Jay leans back. Their banter is quick and pointed. “I guess you are rich.”
“It’s my family’s jet.”
Lance wobbles his head in disgust. “Look at me, Mr. I Have My Own Jet. Next you’ll tell us you’re fucking royalty.”
“Hey, where’s Charles?” Murray asks.
“He’s outside with our car.”
“Well, his ass belongs in here. I’ll be right back.” Murray walks across the bar and out the door.
“I’m here because I care about Savannah. Would it matter if I actually were a prince?”
Jimmy shrugs. “It’d make the stalking less creepy.”
Creepy? Me?
Never one to miss a topic, Lance jumps in. “Princes get away with a lot of shit regular guys can’t. They can kiss unconscious women, and everyone calls it true love. If one of us tried that we’d be behind bars.”
Jay’s eyes squint. “Because we’re not in a fucking fairy tale. Sometimes I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking.”
Lance’s mouth drops open.
Jimmy laughs.
I do my best to not openly laugh along.
The boxing match has gotten intense, and it’s hard to hear them over the crowd. “I need your help. Savannah mentioned a clock her mother once owned. It was very special, but she had to sell it. Do you know who bought it?”
Jimmy gives me a long look. “You really do care about her.”
“I do.”
“Then I’ll just give you the clock.” Jimmy beams proudly.
“You have it?” Jay asks, clearly as surprised as I am.
“I sent a friend to buy it. I knew it meant a lot to her. I was waiting for the right time to give it back to her. She’s a proud little thing. I didn’t want to return it until she was ready to take it.”
The sentiment makes perfect sense to me.
Jimmy leaves for a moment and returns with a small wooden clock, about a foot tall and about half that in width. Cherry wood. Gold-plated face. Not expensive—but still priceless. “I’ve kept it locked in my bottom desk drawer all this time.”
Charles enters the bar with Murray, and they join us after stopping by the bar and getting their own beers. He looks at the clock and says, “So, you found it.”
“Jimmy had it,” I answer. “He knew it was too important for her to lose it.”
Charles shakes Jimmy’s hand and smiles.
Jimmy is grinning from ear to ear.
Even Jay looks unusually happy.
Lance throws up a hand and walks away.
“He’ll get over it,” Jimmy says. “He has some growing up to do before he’ll be ready for a woman like Savannah.”
“There is no other woman like Savannah,” I say and raise my glass to her.
The others raise theirs as well. “To Savannah,” Murray says.
“To Savannah,” we all repeat and take a swig.
It’s late so I relax and nurse a second beer. I have what I came for.
Next stop—Boston.
Jimmy leans over, puts a hand on my shoulder, and says, “Look me in the eye, son, and tell me what your intentions are with our Savannah.”
That’s easy enough. “I love her. If she’ll have me, I’ll make her my princess.”
With a laugh, Jimmy sits back. “Oh, I wouldn’t choose that nickname. I don’t see Savannah ever liking to be called that.”
Charles and I exchange a look. With a straight face, I say, “I believe I can sell her on the merit of it.”
Early the next day, with the boxed clock tucked beneath my arm, I take the elevator to the fifteenth floor of my office building. I didn’t make an appointment. I walk right past Jana Monroe’s secretary and let myself into her office.
She stands as I enter. “Well, I wish I could say this is a pleasant surprise.”
I take a seat, propping the box on my knee. “You’re in luck. I haven’t found a single person who has anything negative to say about you. They won’t talk about what they did with you, but I can’t find one who seems harmed from their association with you.”
Tone heavy with sarcasm, she says, “You can’t imagine my relief.”
I continue on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Which is why I’m here for a favor.”
She slowly takes her seat behind her desk, tense and watchful. “Just what do you think I might be able to do for you?”
“I have a present for Savannah, something I believe she thinks was lost to her. I want you to arrange for her to meet with me.”
Jana’s eyes narrow. “Is there a reason you can’t call her yourself?”
“No, but you will help me do this in a way that fulfills what she thought she would get from you.”
“I don’t think you understand what I do.”
I put the clock aside and lean forward. “I don’t think you understand I’m not asking.”
“Just who do you think you are?” she snarls.
I mull the question for a moment. There was a time when I would have defined myself by my birth order. I might have also boasted of my prowess with women or my popularity with the Royal Guards. Those are all things that felt important before I came to Boston and met Savannah.
I can threaten Jana into helping me. She’s already shown she’d back down under threat of being exposed. Yes, that path is open to me.
I look at the box at my feet and ask myself why I am here. Why haven’t I simply taken the clock to Savannah myself?
I want to return something I took from her. Will the truth move a woman like Jana Monroe? If it doesn’t, I’m not above threatening her again.
But I’ll give her a chance.
“I’d like to tell you a story about a woman who came to Boston to find herself and ended up winning the heart of a prince . . .”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Savannah
They call out my order at the coffee shop when my phone starts to ring. It’s Jana. Did she butt dial me? No, impossible. She’s flawless. No way she makes that kind of mistake.
“Hello?”
“Savannah, how are you?”
“Good?” I say, dragging the word out slowly. Fully confused.
“You’ve been on my mind since the last time we talked a couple months ago. You didn’t go back to Maine?”
I take time to fill her in on all I’ve been doing. All I’ve accomplished.
“That’s so incredible, Savannah. You’ve really made the most of your situation. A few of the men from the charity event asked me about you. They saw us talking, and I hope you don’t mind that I passed along your information.”
“I did hear from a couple.”
“No one you were interested in?”
“Not really. No spark.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But it might be for the best. I had the most interesting conversation with a man today, and all I could think of was how perfect he’d be for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes. I know we’re not technically working together right now, but I felt compelled to call you. I think you should meet him.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she laughs. “Savannah, you deserve happiness. In my line of work I have rules for a reason. I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you thought it would, but I might have been too hasty when I told you I couldn’t work with you. I sent the man down to the gazebo at The Commons Park. Do you know the one by the fount
ain?”
“Yes.” I take a little pride in how well I know the city now.
“I believe this man would be a good match for you.”
I can barely breathe. I stopped looking, stopped hoping. I decided to let things happen naturally. Her offer confuses me. “I don’t know.”
“Life tosses us opportunities. This is one I wouldn’t pass on if I were you, but you’re the only one who can say if you’re ready for it.”
I swallow hard. Am I ready?
I still see Brice in the face of other men.
Isn’t that sign enough that I should at least see who she thinks I would like? “How will I know it’s him?”
“He’s gorgeous. You can’t miss him. Dark hair. Dark eyes. If you don’t stop in your tracks when you see him, I misjudged what you want. Listen, I have to go. Fill me in on how it goes. Good luck.” The line cuts off, and I’m left with a million questions. The first: what the hell is his name?
I think of the best pair of dark eyes I’ve ever stared into and a pang of hurt floods me. I’m not ready to let go of the idea of him yet. How can he still be so vivid in my mind after two months? I didn’t know him that long. All we did was kiss.
He probably forgot all about me. I can’t cling to a memory. I can’t have a family with a fantasy. Brice Hastings, I’m sorry, I have to let you go.
Jana has a reputation for knowing what people need. If she thinks this guy will be perfect for me, maybe he will be.
I throw a lid on my coffee and take off in a fast walk toward the park. This time I don’t have to wonder what I’ll talk about. I have a lot of choices now. Classes. A life. Friends here and back in Maine. I don’t need to pretend to be someone else. I’m good enough as I am.
My chin rises.
Better than good enough. The man I end up with will see that.
Still, my feet drag a little as I near the gazebo. I duck behind a tree and catch my breath. Meeting someone doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with him. I talk to people who ride next to me on the bus. I can talk to anyone.
This is a park meeting. We didn’t commit to coffee. If there’s no spark, I don’t have to say more than hello.
“Are you going to climb that thing so you can get a better look?”
I jump and turn to see Brice standing there, his hands casually tucked in his pockets, his smile so warm and sexy.
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