by Ali Parker
“Watch your language.”
“Oh, come off it, Mother!”
She flinched and rubbed her hands together like she was applying lotion. It was a gesture I’d come to recognize. She was not happy with how this conversation was going. “You forget your place, Ash.”
I laughed bitterly. “And where is that?”
“You will not speak to me like that.”
“Why? Does it bother you?”
“Yes.”
I laughed again and shook my head at her. “Oh, please. You’re not going to turn the tables and make me pity you now. Maybe if you hadn’t treated Piper like dirt, I’d be more willing to come around. But here we are. You made this mess. Not me.”
“I did no such thing.”
“So you didn’t cross the line and tell Piper I was seeing a therapist? You didn’t criticize her clothes and make her feel small?”
My mother’s eyes flicked back and forth between mine. “That was a private conversation.”
“Wow.”
My mother squared her shoulders. A heavy, tense silence hung between us that neither of us seemed willing to break. I wasn’t going to make the first move. I was vibrating with rage, and I knew if I opened my mouth one more time, I would say a lot of things I would never be able to take back. And even though my mother made me furious and our values were on completely different spectrums, she was still my mother, and I loved her, and I didn’t want to deliberately hurt her.
No matter how badly I wanted to prove a point and get her to open her eyes and stop being so shallow and high and mighty.
“You should go,” I said, teeth clenched to hold in the other words that wanted to come spilling out of me.
She turned on her heel but stopped in the doorway. Out in the hall was my father, who was looking sternly at her. She looked back over her shoulder at me. “I’m disappointed in you, Asher.”
“Likewise,” I said.
She marched off, and I listened to the fading sound of her high heels against the stone. My father still lingered out in the hall with his hands in his pockets, and once the sound of her steps was completely gone, he moved forward to stand in the doorway.
“She means well,” he said.
“Could have fooled me.”
He sighed before stepping into my study as I fell into my chair. He took up the one across from me and lowered himself into it slowly. His old age was starting to show. Once he was comfortable, he pressed his fingertips together and studied me over the tops of them. “Your mother wants what is best for you. Sometimes, she confuses that with prioritizing her wants and desires over yours. She is a fierce woman, Asher. She wants your life to be as good as it can be. She fears that this Piper woman you’re seeing will destroy a reputation all of us have worked very hard to build. You’re a good man. You deserve a good woman.”
“Piper is a good woman.”
“I believe you,” my father said, lowering his hands so he could massage his arthritis-riddled right knee. “But is she the kind of woman who would fit into this lifestyle in the long term? Or would the pressure be too much for her? And what’s more important, could you ask her to give up everything in order to move here and be your wife?”
“We haven’t discussed that, and I don’t intend to. It’s still early in our relationship.”
My father nodded knowingly. “Son, being men like us means there are certain compromises we must make. Sometimes, we have to make the hard choice and let someone go because we know this life isn’t for them. Because we know we would be stealing a life from them that would make them happier than a life with us.”
I had the sense my father was talking from his own experience. Had he loved someone before my mother that he couldn’t be with because she wasn’t of royal blood? He and my mother’s marriage had been arranged by their parents when they were only fourteen and eighteen. They’d waited until my mother was in her early twenties before the families merged in marriage.
I’d always known my parents’ relationship was more of a business deal than a passionate affair.
“Do you regret marrying my mother?” I asked
“No,” my father said, and I believed him. “No, I do not. It was the right choice for both of us. The trick for men like us is to find someone you respect. Love is just an added bonus if you’re lucky enough to find it in the right person.”
“Sounds lonely,” I said.
“I have your mother. And I have you. Do you think me lonely?”
I shook my head.
My father smiled. “You are still young, Asher, despite what your mother might tell you. There is a lot of time left for you to find a bride. If it is Piper, your mother will come around. If it isn’t? Well, there will be more women. There will always be more women.”
Chapter 20
Piper
My stomach fluttered wildly with nerves as I stared down at the black box on my hotel bed. It was tied off with a silky silver ribbon, from which a card dangled with my name scrawled on the front. I knew it was from Asher without having to open it, and I tried to soak in the moment before it slipped away into memory as I reached for the card and turned it over.
For tonight. Don’t be late.
P.S. Seriously. Don’t be late. I can no longer stand the company of royals.
I smiled at the words and could hear them in Asher’s voice in my head. I knew he’d been having a hard time at home, and tensions were running higher than ever between him and his mother. He’d showed up at my hotel a couple of nights ago in a blind rage, and I’d had to sit him down and talk him through some of the things his mother said.
I knew she’d said things about me, but Asher had refused to give his voice to them. Instead, he told me the other things she’d said, mostly that she had corralled two dozen women for him to sift through like they were items in a catalog and he could choose the one to bring to the masquerade tonight.
That knowledge was likely contributing to my nervousness.
In less than three hours, I’d be in a ballroom surrounded by very wealthy people who knew full well I did not belong in their midst. Not only that, but Asher’s mother would be there. The last time we’d run into each other, things hadn’t gone well.
At least this time, I’d look the part and wouldn’t be wearing blue jeans and sneakers.
With shaking hands, I reached out and pulled one end of the silver ribbon. The bow came undone and fell open, slipping off the edges of the matte-black box. Then with the nerves rising in my belly like a symphony, I lifted the lid.
Sitting neatly upon a piece of shimmery silver tissue paper was a mask. It was black and lined in crystals, and the tag looped through one of the eyeholes read, “Swarovski”. My hands were still shaking when I lifted it from the box and admired the intricate black feathers sewn seamlessly into the mask. They were magnificently soft and luxurious, and I wondered how much a pretty thing like this might cost.
More than you could even imagine, I thought as I turned to the mirror at the end of my bed and lifted the mask to hold it over my eyes.
The sight was breathtaking even now when I was wearing my white bathrobe.
I let out a squeal of excitement before gently setting the mask down on the dresser and returning to the box to lift the tissue and unveil the gown beneath.
In all my wildest dreams, I could never have concocted something so magical. The gown was made of fine silk so shimmery it looked like water. As I pulled it out of the box, the fabric flowed and danced and caught the light from the ceiling above. It was black, but as the light hit it, the dress picked up shades of blue and green and purple. It was so exquisite I could hardly believe such a thing was real.
But it was real indeed. And it was mine to wear for the evening.
Everyone stared at me as I stood at the curb waiting for Antoni to pick me up later that evening. The sun had set a long time ago, and my gown danced in the light of the streetlamps. Women gushed over it to their husbands, who didn’t seem to care all
that much, and I inched toward the edge of the curb to peer down the street, hoping Antoni would arrive soon to spare me from these prying eyes.
Standing on the sidewalk like this in such a fancy dress and wearing a mask was a little unnerving.
When he pulled up in the Levante, I was hopeful that Asher might be inside. He was not.
I opted to sit in the front. Antoni grinned at me as I struggled to close the door without pinching my dress. He waited for me to buckle up and flashed me a smile. “You look fit for an evening with the Queen of England herself.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I still feel like a fraud.”
He chuckled. “Don’t. You look the part. Asher warned me you might be nervous, but rest assured, nobody there will be any the wiser, except for you, Ash, and maybe his mother. But hell, this might be enough to fool even her.”
“Not likely,” I muttered under my breath as we pulled out into the road and joined traffic.
Antoni laughed. “You’re right. Sorry. I was trying to make you feel better.”
“I think his mother will be able to smell me coming.”
Antoni laughed again, harder this time. “Asher told me you were funny.”
“I’m not kidding. I mean it. I think she can smell poor on me.”
He offered me a lopsided smile. “Nah. All she’s smelling is someone who threatens to take her son away from a life she’s worked very hard to orchestrate. She’s not a bad person, you know. She’s just… I don’t know. She’s all tied up in knots inside. Asher is the most important thing in her life, and there’s a disconnect between what he wants and what she wants for him. Does that make sense?”
I leaned against the seat and gazed out the windshield at the twinkling night sky and the amber glow of Big Ben in the distance. London was a beautiful place. “It does. I have some firsthand experience with overbearing parents who think they know what’s best for you.”
“Everything she does is out of love. And a bit of insanity.”
I laughed. “Yes, well, I guess I can understand that.”
“Don’t give it another moment’s thought. I know that Asher is really looking forward to this evening and seeing you. It’s all he’s been talking about all afternoon. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but when he sees you, he’s not going to be disappointed.”
“Thank you for the pep talk, Antoni. I needed this.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The Sutton Place was all decked out in glamor and glitz when Antoni drove down the long winding driveway and came to a stop where the pavement gave way to the cobblestones. In front of us was a mini traffic jam of high-end luxury vehicles, which inched closer and closer to the front doors by the slowly passing minutes to vomit out people in gowns as lavish as mine and masks as mysterious. They walked arm in arm to the front doors, where they were given a piece of paper which I imagined was akin to a list of events of the evening.
Antoni talked my ears off as I itched to get out of the vehicle. Nobody else was getting out of the cars early, so I sat tight, chomping at the bit to get out and find Asher.
Finally, it was our turn. Antoni stopped the car and twisted in his seat to face me. “I have a couple more guests to pick up. Maybe we’ll run into each other later. Keep an eye on Ash, will you? His blood pressure can run kind of high on nights like these.”
“I won’t let him out of my sight.”
Antoni grinned, and then his eyes widened. He patted the front of his jacket. “Goodness. I almost forgot. Here. This is for you. Present it to the doorman. He’ll tear off the bottom which has your name on it. Follow the crowd to the ballroom and give the smaller piece with your name on it to the attendant at the top of the stairs to the ballroom. Got it?”
“Half to the doorman, half to the attendant at the stairs.” I nodded confidently. “Got it.”
“Knock ‘em dead.”
I got out of the car. My sparkly black heels struck the cobblestones, and I walked purposefully toward the front doors, where I fell into line behind a middle-aged couple dripping in diamonds and jewels. Before tonight, I had no idea such lavish affairs were still a thing.
I supposed in other places in the world, they would be.
I fidgeted with my chandelier diamond earrings as I approached the door. When it was my turn, I handed the doorman the card Antoni had given me. He smiled, tore it like Antoni said he would, and handed me back the smaller piece. “Have a wonderful evening, Miss James.”
“You too,” I said.
Idiot, I thought as I stepped into the stone-floored foyer. He wasn’t going to have a good evening. He was going to be out here manning the door while all the guests had good evenings. It was like when an employee at a movie theater told you to enjoy the film and you said, “you too.”
Embarrassing.
I shook off the awkward moment as I followed the crowd. We were still moving slowly, and I wasn’t a huge fan of the fact that I was the only person who appeared to be arriving solo. People made their way down the hallway in pairs or groups of four, even six, and here I was, trailing behind them, looking like I belonged but feeling like I stuck out like a sore thumb.
My head was on a swivel when we emerged at the end of the hall. The ceiling opened up, giving way to a massive grand ballroom. This was a different room than the one that had been used for the family dinner the first Monday I’d been in London. And I’d thought that first room was something to write home about.
This ballroom was straight out of the movies.
An expanse of exquisite artwork spanned the entire ceiling, the image of dancers locked in a formal dance. Massive crystal chandeliers hung in three lines, and their light was reflected in the three-story cross-cut glass windows.
Somewhere, a harpist was playing. Laughter floated below the sound of the music, and voices chattered excitedly all around me.
Yep. You’re in over your head.
“Presenting Lord and Lady Armon,” a deep voice bellowed across the ballroom.
I held in a yelp of surprise and looked around wildly for the source of the great booming voice. I spotted a man in an elegant burgundy-colored suit with gold buttons. He held himself straighter than a fence post as he took the small pieces of paper from the hands of the guests, which he used to announce their arrival to the masquerade.
I swallowed.
Play it cool, play it cool. You can do this.
Soon, it would be my turn, and he would say my name, and all the people down below would be looking at me. The daughter of a poor restaurant owner. The girl who had to work three jobs to make ends meet. The girl who hadn’t paid for a haircut in four years.
The couple ahead of me presented their cards to the announcer. He drew himself to his full height and faced the crowd two flights of stairs down below. They were so far down, I couldn’t see them from where I stood.
“Presenting Lord and Lady Smithe.”
The couple locked arms and descended the stairs, creating space for me to step forward.
My heart leaped into my throat. My palms began to sweat. I bit down on my tongue to stop my teeth from chattering as I held out the paper with my name on it to the announcer. He read it and, as if in slow motion, turned to face the crowd.
I peered down into the expanse below.
Lords and Ladies floated amongst each other in their regal gowns and suits. Fountains overflowed with wine, and jugglers tossed flaming torches into the air. An acrobat twirled from red ribbons hanging from the ceiling.
“Miss Piper James.”
My name echoed through the ballroom.
Every head down below turned to look up at me.
Oh God. Oh God.
I lifted the hem of my dress and took the stairs one at a time, forcing myself to take it slowly so I didn’t pitch forward. The last thing I needed was to tumble face-first down two flights of stairs and crash into one of those wine fountains.
The room fell into a hush, save for the harpist, and I told myself it wa
s because they were all astounded by my beauty, like the underdog female main character in every Disney film ever made.
But the truth was, they’d heard my name, and they knew I didn’t belong, and they were watching me for a crack in the facade.
Thank God I was wearing a mask.
Chapter 21
Asher
All eyes were on Piper as she came down the grand staircase of the ballroom, and it wasn’t because she was a foreigner.
It was because she looked magnificent.
Her dress caught the light of the chandeliers above and morphed from deep shades of blue to green to purple before my eyes. Her elegant mask hid her high cheekbones and sharp eyebrows, leaving her full lips on display. A dazzling diamond necklace wrapped around her throat to match the earrings dangling from her ears, and a matching bracelet flashed at her wrist.
The people down on the floor with me might have known she wasn’t a royal because of her name, but they certainly couldn’t tell simply by looking at her.
She was the most beautiful woman here.
I moved through the crowd to meet her at the bottom of the stairs. She reached for me as soon as she spotted me, and I held out a hand to her, loving being the man she sought out in a room like this. She wrapped her fingers around mine, and I led her down the last few steps until her feet hit the floor.
“Oh my gosh,” she breathed, her dark eyes darting around behind her mask. “This is so much more intense than I imagined. There are so many people here. And they’re all staring at me. Why are they still staring at me?”
“Because you look beautiful.”
She averted her eyes toward the floor, and I knew she was blushing behind her mask. Smiling at her bashfulness, I lifted two fingers and placed them under her chin. She resisted but eventually let me lift her face to mine.
“I’m not lying, Piper. You look absolutely stunning. Everyone in this room thinks so.”