The Duke of New York_A Contemporary Bad Boy Royal Romance

by Lisa Lace

  Zoe

  “Jack, turn that down, will you?” Laura casts me an apologetic smile and rolls her eyes. After a long day at work, she’s taken down her high ponytail, ruffling her sleek, polished hair. Her suit jacket is thrown over the arm of her sofa, her high heels kicked off.

  Her five-year-old, Jack, is watching some cartoon on the television, the volume blaring. He huffs dramatically at the request but does as he’s told.

  “Thank you, sweetheart. Now I can hear your Aunt Zoe talk.”

  I smile. I’m not related to Laura, but we’ve been best friends for years. Close as sisters, we’ve been joined at the hip since we were children ourselves. We’ve become very different people over the years, but the bond has always stayed the same.

  Laura married her wonderful husband Mike when they were both young. It was a tragedy when he died of an undiagnosed heart murmur in his late twenties, leaving Laura a single mother. She stepped up to the challenge—she’s Super Mom. Yes, Laura does it all.

  I, on the other hand, have yet to settle down. The right man has just never come along.

  Instead, I’m Aunt Zoe.

  “Mom, can I have twenty dollars for the mall?” This time, it’s Laura’s eldest, Megan. She stands with one hand on her hip, the other held out expectantly, her eyebrows raised. Her long blonde hair tilts in a wave over her bare shoulder, exposed in a tight top with no sleeves. Her attitude began to develop about six months ago, just after her fifteenth birthday.

  Laura frowns. “I gave you twenty dollars just a couple of days ago.”

  “So?”

  “I’m not made of money, Megan.”

  Megan rolls her eyes back into her head and slumps dramatically. “Mom, please?”

  Reluctantly, Laura reaches into her purse and draws out a bill. She fixes Megan with a knowing look. “Maybe buy a more appropriate top while you’re at the mall, hmm?”

  “Fine.”

  “No ‘thanks, Mom’?”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Back by eight, please.”

  Megan sweeps out the door; we hear it slam behind her. Jack takes advantage of the distraction, pressing down on the volume button a couple of notches.

  “Kids,” Laura says, offering a light laugh. “Count yourself lucky that you’re not there yet.”

  “Yeah, because I’m forever alone. I’m an old maid.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re not old enough for that. Besides, from what you’ve told me, the tides may be about to turn.”

  I smile knowingly, twisting a strand of my long red hair around my finger. I sit back on the sofa, my legs knocking against Laura’s. “Uh-huh. My mystery man and I are supposed to be meeting next week.”

  “Really? So I’m going to be going on my business trip just as things take off? Typical. I wait all this time for some decent gossip, and I won’t even get to hear about it first.”

  I laugh. “I’ll tell you all about it when you get back. You’ll be around for the first date, anyway.”

  “I can’t wait. It’s been so long since you’ve clicked with anyone.”

  “No kidding. I thought the ass-scratcher would be the last straw.”

  We both giggle. The “ass-scratcher” was the last person I went on a date with. We met online, but the attraction quickly dwindled when we met in person. I found out that he had what seemed to be a very persistent itch on his behind, which he’d scratched all night, never neglecting it.

  “God, wouldn’t it be awful if this guy had some disgusting habit, too?”

  “Like eating his own earwax?”

  “Snapping his fingers at waitresses.”

  “Being on his cell phone all night.”

  “Cologne overdose.”

  “Bringing his mother to the restaurant.”

  I laugh loudly, then shake my head. “Please, Laura, don’t. I don’t think I could stand it if this guy were another bust. I really like him.”

  “How long have you guys been talking now?”

  I bite down on my lip, counting in my head. “Six months?”

  “That’s longer than most of your relationships.”

  “I know.” I smile, leaning against the back of the sofa, my fingers trailing through my hair. “There’s something about this one. He’s funny, sweet, engaging. He makes me feel like he actually gives a damn.”

  “Good for you. It’s about time you met someone and settled down. I’m telling you, the years I had with Mike were the best of my life.”

  I reach out and lay my hand on Laura’s. She looks up at me and smiles bravely. “I’m fine, Zoe. It’s been four years.”

  “It seems like only yesterday the four of us used to hang out.” Me, Laura, Mike, and TJ. “How is TJ doing these days?”

  Laura makes a face at the mention of her younger brother. “He’s being a massive dick lately.”

  Jack turns around, his mouth forming a small “oh” of surprise. Laura backtracks. “I mean, nitwit. He’s being a massive nitwit.” Laura grins, then turns back to me. “He’s just made another billion dollars or something. Doesn’t call on my birthday, but makes sure I know he was on the cover of the New York Times. That man hasn’t got his priorities in place at all.”

  “He’s always had an ego the size of Mars. At least now he’s got a reason to be pig-headed, I guess.”

  “Thank God you don’t have to talk to him anymore, Zoe. He’s my brother, and I love him, but he’s a chore. Did I tell you that he’s visiting?”

  “What? The great Turbo TJ is going to descend to us lowly mortals?”

  Laura giggles and claps her hands. “Turbo TJ! I forgot we used to call him that. Yes, he’s coming to Portland.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  “Literally months of guilt-tripping him. I haven’t seen him since Mike’s funeral.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “I’ve told TJ that he either spends Christmas with me this year, or he can forget about talking to me at all. If he’s not going to bother with me, then I’ll stop trying.”

  “So, he’s coming?”

  “Yes. From October until the New Year. Can you believe it?” Laura’s mouth curls into a mischievous grin, and she leans in toward me, lowering her voice so Jack can’t hear. “What’s more, TJ doesn’t know yet that he’s going to be spending some quality time with his niece and nephew.”

  “What are you plotting?”

  “Only unfortunate, entirely unforeseen circumstances that mean my regular sitter is completely unavailable at the last minute, and there is absolutely no option but for TJ to take care of the kids while I’m on my trip.”

  My eyes widen. “Would you trust him with them?”

  “Not really. But I was hoping you’d agree to keep an eye on them for me.” She casts a hopeful look in my direction. “Plus, Megan’s not afraid to say it like it is. She’ll keep TJ in line.” Laura’s face becomes drawn. “Dad’s gone, Mom’s in a home. TJ’s really the only family I’ve got left. I mean, I’ve got the kids, but you know.”

  “Sure.”

  “I want them to have a family. TJ could be a great uncle if he’d step up. He’s always been a cocky bast—” her eyes dart to Jack, “—rascal, but he was good fun, too.”

  “Yeah, he was. Do you still speak to him much?”

  “Now and then. If I call and leave a thousand messages, he might return one.”

  “That’s something, I guess.”

  “It’s just to keep me off his back. I don’t know, Zoe. I’m hoping that some time back in Maine, with the kids and me, will help knock him off his high horse and remind him that we’re here. As much of a pain as he’s always been, I miss my brother. And I need him right now. It’s hard raising the kids and running a company. I could do with some support. A few months back home should do trick. Maybe he’ll remember what he left behind.”

  “You know I’m always here for you, Laura. You’re not alone in this.”

  “I know, sweetie, but it’s not your job to hold
me together. You’ve got your own life going on. A new man, your business. How’s that going these days?”

  I let out a long breath. “A hundred miles an hour! I’ve just ordered a huge bunch of stock in for Christmas.”

  “What? It’s only October!”

  “I know. But wreaths are delicate work. I have to get started early. It’s not early enough, really. As soon as we get to Halloween, they’ll be knocking down my door for Christmas.”

  “Where are you spending it this year?”

  I shrug. “I might have a quiet one at home. My parents are on a cruise this year.” Laura wasn’t the only one who felt lonely sometimes. I’d been single since forever, and my parents were enjoying their retirement with lots of trips and adventures around the world.

  Laura nudges my knee. “Don’t be stupid. If you’re in Maine, you’re with us.”

  “Thanks, Laura. Where are you going on business this time?” As a wedding planner, she regularly went all over the globe to be there for a bride and groom’s special day. Local couples would often hire Laura for destination weddings.

  “Only to Houlton. I wouldn’t dream of leaving the kids with TJ if I was out of state. I need to be able to get back quickly if he screws up.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on them for you too.”

  “Thanks, Zoe. Knowing TJ, he won’t call to check in, and I’ll be worried sick. If you could just keep me in the loop—I want to know my babies are safe and well.”

  “Of course, I will. Are you sure you want to do this? TJ’s not the most reliable guy in the world.”

  Laura lets out a long breath and holds up her hands. “I can’t get through to TJ, but maybe the kids can. I really want him in our lives. He’s so tied up in work and living the high-life that it’s like he’s forgotten where he came from and who really cares about him. It wouldn’t hurt for him to show me he cared, either.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll do what I can. How long is he back for?”

  “Until the New Year.”

  “Oh wow, that’s quite the visit.”

  “It’s been four years coming.”

  “I hope it goes well for you, and that he’s not a jerk while he’s here.”

  “It will be nice to see him face-to-face for a change, rather than in some magazine. Sometimes, it feels like my brother is some celebrity I’ve never met before.”

  “Like you said, time at home is probably just what he needs.”

  “And I hope that your guy isn’t another timewaster. It’s been wonderful to see that smile on your face since you started talking to him.”

  I grin. “Maybe I’m jumping the gun here, but I’m not expecting any nasty surprises. I couldn’t have connected with someone like this if they weren’t special somehow. I think he’s the one.”

  “Woah. That’s quite a statement, Zoe.”

  “As I said, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.”

  “Let’s hope not. You deserve some romance.”

  Tom

  I take a sip of the champagne, make a face, and scowl. It’s not up to snuff. I catch the attention of a passing waiter by clicking my fingers and beckon him over.

  When he arrives, I hold up my glass. “What is this?”

  “It’s Dom Pérignon, sir.”

  “Yes, I can tell it’s a Dom Pérignon, but it’s not the vintage I asked for.”

  The young server looks at me like I’m nuts. “How can you tell?”

  I flash the smile that my Head of PR warns me is condescending. “When you’ve been drinking luxury champagnes as long as I have, you learn the difference. This is 2009, at least. I specified that the vintage should be no later than 2005. The Mayor of New York is here tonight. What’s he going to think if I’m putting forward anything but the best?”

  “Mr. Vermont, this is a two-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne.”

  “It tastes like a bottom-shelf, grocery-store knock-off. Don’t serve this to the mayor. Send someone to my private cellars and bring up a half-decent bottle. Any of the Krug bottles will do. Go on, now.”

  The waiter scurries away. I roll my eyes. Impossible to get good staff these days.

  I cast my eyes around the rest of the reception, looking for any other flaws. It’s the launch party for one of TJV Publishing’s latest releases—a fashion magazine that’s sure to give Vogue a run for its money. Held at CAPITALE, the event costs a small fortune, but it’s worth it to send the right message.

  The columns at the edges of the room are lit up in blue and silver, our trademark colors, and each round dining table is adorned with bouquets of blue and white roses. Each guest will receive a pure .999 silver bookmark engraved with TJV’s logo and an e-reader device pre-loaded with the first copy of our latest magazine before they leave. There are over three thousand guests in attendance tonight.

  Soon, there will be dinner, but first, drinks. It’s time to mingle.

  I stride with confidence through the hall. I’m wearing a finely tailored black suit, expensive leather shoes, and my haircut cost more than five hundred dollars.

  I see the eyes of dozens of women following me. To be young, rich and handsome makes you a big deal in this city. And I am a very big deal.

  Carla approaches me. She’s a journalist who’s found her way into my bedroom on more than one occasion. I was ready to believe that she was searching for some exclusive scoop on me, but I’ve yet to read a tell-all on Thomas Vermont’s incredible sexual prowess, so I continue to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  Tonight, she’s wearing a long, tightly-fitted red gown, her dark hair curling around her bare shoulders.

  “Tom, I was disappointed I didn’t receive an invite.”

  “Yet you came anyway.”

  “I’m Preston Howler’s plus one.”

  “Ah, Preston. So, you’re dating photographers now?”

  “I was just looking for the opportunity to talk to you, Tom. It’s been a long time since we’ve spent any quality time together. Perhaps we could schedule a private interview after the party?”

  I bring her hand to my lips, kiss it softly, meeting her eyes as I lift my face, and smile. “Carla, time with you is always a pleasure and a privilege, but I’m afraid that I’m otherwise engaged tonight.”

  Carla lets her hand drop and purses her lips slightly. She casts her gaze around the room and all the lovely women milling around. “Who’s the lucky lady tonight?”

  “It’s not that kind of engagement, Carla. Now, you’re here with Preston, aren’t you? You’d better get back to him before you make him jealous.”

  Reluctantly, Carla walks away. I feel sorry for her, and all the other women who try for my attention. Though my love affairs don’t last long, I don’t mean to be cruel; I lose interest quickly.

  Although perhaps all that’s about to change. I have no “other engagement,” only an interest in one particular woman, although I’m not quite ready to shout it from the rooftops yet. News spreads quickly around here.

  I’m interrupted from my thoughts by a pat on the shoulder. Lucas Collins, my Head of Customer Service, is standing at my side, his large, round face red from one too many glasses of the wrong champagne.

  “Thomas! Wonderful party! The best yet. What a celebration.”

  I smile. “Thank you, Lucas. Credit goes to Diane, as always. She’s a miracle worker with these things.”

  “You know, I’ve been meaning to get you aside for a moment. A customer complaint has come in, and I think it’s worth your attention.”

  I roll my eyes and wave away Lucas’s concerns. “Not now, Lucas. It’s a party.”

  “Apparently, one of our articles in the June edition of Around Town hasn’t gone down well.”

  “Which article?”

  “The restaurant review. You know, the scale of ‘cheap and nasty’ to ‘fine and classy.’”

  I let out a laugh. “Really?”

  “Well, Thomas, some of the venues weren’t happy to be on a certain end of that scale. You remembe
r the hipster joint that served cocktails out of mini wheelbarrows?”

  “The one with rats running around?”

  “They’ve asked if we’d print a retraction. Otherwise, they’ll sue for defamation.”

  I shake my head. “We didn’t even mention the rats in the article.”

  “Well, the owners are throwing a tantrum over it. The woman I spoke to claims we don’t understand the bar’s ‘vibe.’”

  “I can’t deal with something like this right now. I’m away for the holidays. Offer her a small under-the-table gesture of apology. Whatever you think it will take to make this go away.”

  “And the retraction?”

  “Small print. Back pages.”

  “Excellent. I’ll make sure that gets done.”

  “Thanks, Lucas. Enjoy the party.”

  You’d think that after forking out thousands of dollars for an event, I’d be able to enjoy it, but there’s no rest for the wicked. If it wasn’t a spurned woman on my tail, it was an employee hoping for some face-time with the boss, or a journalist with a hundred-and-one questions. Within the hour, I’m exhausted.

  I escape out of the main hall to a quieter area of the venue and pull out my cell. I smile when I see that she’s replied to my messages. This woman, this mystery girl online, is about the only thing keeping me sane right now.

  I read her message.

  Sounds like you’ve got a busy night ahead! A work party sounds fantastic. I wish I could do something like that. There’s no party for a self-employed gal. I’d love to get dressed up sometime and let my hair down. Make sure you have fun tonight.

  I quickly shoot a message back. When we meet, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. I would love to see you all dressed up. I bet that’s a real sight for sore eyes.

  She replies. Send me a picture of you in your suit.

  Patience, Zoe! Let’s both wait for the grand reveal this weekend. I can’t wait to see you.

  I met Zoe on a dating site about six months ago, and we’d clicked straight away. I haven’t yet shown her my picture; she’s only seen the little cartoon representation that I used in my profile. My fame usually precedes me, and there’s been something very appealing about talking to somebody outside of the New York bubble, all this superficial glitz and glam.