by A. C. Arthur
As he pulled out of her driveway, he could have sworn he saw two women duck behind some overgrown bushes. But Roland didn’t have time to investigate. He was already running late. The car with the guards followed him into his own driveway and was ready to pull out twenty minutes later when he came back out. He drove directly to the palace where he had to run down the long first-floor hallway to make it to the conference room on time.
There were rooms designated for meetings all along the first floor of the palace; the bedrooms and private family rooms were on the second floor. Roland walked into the meeting behind two other gentlemen and took the empty chair at the foot of the table, right across from where Kris was already seated.
His brother looked at Roland as if he were a stranger off the streets.
“What are you doing here?” Kris asked in a hushed tone.
“It’s the monthly cabinet meeting, correct?” Roland asked. “That’s what the calendar said, and judging by all the people assembling, it was accurate.”
“You never attend this meeting,” Kris stated—as if Roland didn’t already know that.
When a few of the cabinet members came over to speak to Roland and shake his hand, Kris had no choice but to abandon his surprise. That was just as well; Roland wasn’t in the mood to explain himself any further. Last night he’d made a decision. This morning he was acting on it. There was no need for a huge discussion about those facts. At least, none that Roland could see.
“Gentlemen,” Kris said, his tone a little louder, as he was attempting to speak over the others who were talking in the conference room. “Let us take a seat so that we may begin.”
They did, all twenty of the men and women who represented Grand Serenity’s governing cabinet. It was a fact that Prince Rafe was the ruler of Grand Serenity, and Kris was his successor. But Grand Serenity was not a dictatorship. The cabinet was comprised of men and women from the military and elected officials of the island, and they were the persons who brought the concerns and needs of the people to the monarch to be addressed.
Roland knew each of them, not only because their names and photographs were displayed prominently alongside the royal family’s in the City Center building, but because he saw them at events and sometimes when he was out and about around town.
“If everyone will look at the agenda which is in front of you, we can go down the list of things to discuss. Lunch will be served promptly at noon and then we will disperse,” Kris instructed everyone.
The first hour of the meeting moved swiftly, with reports being given and minimal questions being asked. Roland followed along easily.
“In the matter of the new resort,” Kris began.
“I have some thoughts about this,” Roland said.
The entire room grew quiet.
Roland looked up to see that everyone seated at the custom-made black walnut conference table now staring at him. He figured that right about now they’d all managed to get over the initial shock of seeing him there, but the fact that he was actually going to contribute to the meeting was stunning. He’d probably laugh about the looks on their faces later, but for now, he simply continued.
“The Moonlight Casino has seen a quadruple growth in its profits over the last year. Partnering with the cruise ships to offer excursions, including a cash-back incentive for each guest, has proved to be a fantastic idea on Sallinger’s part. As such, the percentage of the island’s profits from the casino should definitely be reconfigured in the coming year.”
He’d pulled out his phone and swiped until he came to the notes app where he often jotted down things that he thought were interesting. It definitely wasn’t like carrying a briefcase or dictating memos to a studious secretary, but for Roland it seemed appropriate.
“Now, I’ve done a little background research into Quirio Denton and his other properties. They’re all profitable and located in well-visited tourist destinations. It makes sense that they want to add Grand Serenity to their stellar list. For us, however, this new resort also has to make sense.
“My suggestion is that we steer Denton away from the north side of the island and closer to the City Center and The Sunset. Instead of disturbing parts of our historic landscape, which a good majority of tourists come specifically to this island to see, why not add a four-star resort right next to the casino, the specialty shops and the city’s thriving center, instead?
“We should be thinking of bigger and more accommodating ideas for these upcoming years. Now that we’re receiving international cruise lines as well as the domestic voyages from North and South America, we should be working on a larger scale of entertainment.”
He paused then, because he’d reached the end of his notes. Sitting back in his chair Roland looked around and asked, “Thoughts?”
Kris spoke first, astonishment clear in his tone, “You know about the Denton deal and the figures for the Moonlight’s year-end profits?”
Roland smiled, this time because he was kind of enjoying throwing his serious, controlled and perfect brother off-kilter for a change.
“Despite what the rumors say, Your Highness, I do actually read the monthly reports your secretary sends me. I’m not a complete and total loser who wears a crown,” he told his brother.
Kris rubbed a finger over his chin and shook his head slowly. “I never thought you were a loser, Roland. I also never thought I’d see the day when you decided to use the astute business brain I knew you had buried somewhere beneath the poker games and worldwide jaunts.”
Roland chuckled. “Thanks, big brother.”
Kris actually smiled back at him. Then the crown prince cleared his throat and immediately got back to business.
“Let’s discuss Roland’s suggestions. I think there’s some good in them. What do you think?”
Roland pulled up a new screen in his notes app and began to type in some of the things the cabinet members were saying. When the meeting was over he felt damn good about being able to contribute, acting like a prince of this island in a way he never had before.
It was satisfying, he thought, just like sleeping in Valora’s arms last night had been.
* * *
“He’s not going to marry you, either.”
Val was just about to walk out of the flower shop when she heard the cool words.
Today was Wednesday. Her mother, Michele Harrington, had died on a Wednesday, after giving birth to her. So this was the day that Val always picked up a small bouquet, which she put in the vase on her dining room table. This week the bouquet contained angel wing begonias. Her mother’s favorite flower. Angeline Forigua owned the flower shop after inheriting it from her mother. It was Angeline’s mother who had always created bouquets for Michele.
“Excuse me?” Val asked as she looked up from examining her bouquet.
The woman walked slowly, her high-heeled pewter-colored sandals clicking on the glossed cement floor. She wore a floor-length summer dress in a lovely nude shade with colorful butterflies. The chiffon material floated around her legs as she walked closer to Val. Diamonds sparkled at her ears, big fluffy curls bounced at her shoulders and everything about her said money, privilege, power.
“You heard me,” Malayka said as she adjusted the cream-colored leather purse on her arm. “He will not marry you. Roland is not going to marry anyone. I would think, since your family spends so much time worrying about the goings-on at the palace, that you would already know this. Perhaps that’s your angle,” she continued with a tilt of her head.
“Maybe...” her voice softened as she touched a hand to the collar of Val’s polo shirt “...you might be planning to use your feminine wiles on him.”
Then she tossed her head back and laughed. Another woman standing at the front of the shop turned to look at them. Angeline, who was a short distance away behind the cash register, looked up, as wel
l.
“I don’t want to marry him,” Val said, her fingers clenching around the green tissue paper that Angeline had wrapped the flowers in. “I’m not interested in a romantic relationship with Prince Roland, just as I wasn’t interested in one with Prince Kristian.”
Malayka’s laughter subsided as she shook her head, a smile still affixed to her face.
“You don’t fool me,” she told Val. “I know exactly what type of woman you are. An opportunist.”
“No. I’m not,” Val replied as she tried her best to remain respectful. “You are mistaken.”
“Oh, no, I’m not,” Malayka argued, this time letting the smile slip. “I know that you’re hungry for a crown and I don’t blame you. That’s why I’m glad I was here finalizing the flowers for my wedding and saw you to offer you a little advice.”
Val wanted to say she didn’t need her advice. She wanted to tell the woman to take the luck she’d had in snagging Prince Rafferty and go straight to the devil. But she did not.
“Stay in your lane,” the soon-to-be princess told her. “The royal family...my family, is way out of your league. Don’t forget that again.”
Val could hear the paper crinkling in her hand as she squeezed the stems of those flowers even tighter. Her teeth clenched with the words she told herself she could not say. Then came a voice from behind her.
“Hello, Valora.” Princess Samantha spoke. “It’s nice to see you again. I was planning to pay you a visit to thank you for the support you offered my family last night.”
Val turned slightly to see the princess standing there, dressed in a lovely peach-colored pantsuit. Her dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail; small gold hoop earrings shone fashionably at her ears.
Val smiled. It was an easy action, as she was used to dealing with the public and regrouping quickly after strained situations. “Good afternoon, Your Highness,” she said, and gave a quick curtsy.
“Oh, those flowers are lovely,” the princess continued as she reached out a hand to touch the soft pink petal of a begonia. “Aren’t these beautiful, Malayka? Have you asked Angeline about these type of flowers for the wedding?”
A quick glance at Malayka caught the woman rolling her eyes.
“I’m not interested in the ordinary and you’re late,” she snapped.
When the princess only tilted her head and arched her brows in response, Malayka continued, “I do not have much time. I need to get back to the palace to check on my prince. I’ve made all the final selections. You are welcome to have a look, but my decision is final.”
Val hadn’t noticed until the moment it rang that Malayka was holding her cell phone.
Malayka huffed as she lifted her hand and looked at the phone. “I have to take this. Don’t be too long with this one,” she said to Princess Samantha. “Like I said, I have to get going soon.”
Without so much as a cursory glance in Val’s direction, Malayka turned and walked away. Samantha gave a slight shake of her head as she visibly inhaled and exhaled slowly before turning to Val. She offered a smile, even though her body language screamed that she was anything but happy at the moment. Val had wondered, as she’d looked from Malayka to Samantha during their exchange, how two such different creatures could now be so very close to becoming family.
“Well, I guess that leaves us to look at flowers, doesn’t it?” Samantha asked Val.
“Ah, no. I mean, I was just leaving when the pri... I mean, when she stopped me.” Val knew she sounded ridiculous—stuttering and stammering over her words as if she’d never spoken to another human being before.
Val took a breath.
“Pardon me, Your Highness. I’ve been at work all day, giving the same tour speech over and over again. Real conversation seems to be beyond me at the moment.” Val chuckled as she saw the princess continue to smile and nod.
“Don’t worry about it,” Samantha said. “Believe me, I know how daunting it can be to stand on your feet and talk all day. I’ve had plenty of days like that, myself.”
“I’m not complaining,” Val hurried to correct herself. “I love my job. I’m just saying that sometimes it makes me hard to communicate with. But I’m just going to go now before I embarrass myself anymore. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Your Highness.”
Val hurried out of the flower shop before she could blabber any longer or embarrass herself any further. She was finally and thankfully at her car and about to get in by the time she could breathe a sigh of relief.
That was a moment too soon.
“Well. Well. Well. Look who made it out of the house today.”
She didn’t have to turn to know that it was Cora’s voice she heard. Of all the people on this island that she could run into this afternoon, it had to be this one. After opening the driver’s-side door Val turned slightly to see her father’s ex standing not more than two feet away from her.
Cora wore ruby-red high-heeled sandals today. She wore heels every day to make up for her small stature. Her waist was slim in the fitted denim dress she wore, and the red silk scarf tied stylishly around her neck matched the matte lipstick on her lips. Her perfectly colored auburn hair was pulled into a neat bun at the back of her head.
“Hello, Ms. Cora,” Val said, even though she feared she was dangerously close to losing all her manners today.
For that reason, she prayed this exchange with Cora would be short and sweet. To help facilitate that need, she leaned in to set her purse and her flowers on the passenger seat of her car. When she stood straight again, it was to see that Cora was still standing there.
“So you went to work today?”
Strange question, but Val didn’t feel like wasting any more time.
“Yes, ma’am, I did. Just stopped by the flower shop to pick up my weekly bouquet and now I’m on my way home,” Val told her, and jingled her car keys to show that she was about to get in and drive away.
Cora took a step forward. “You worked yesterday, too,” she stated. “I know because my nephew and his wife are here visiting for their wedding anniversary. They came down to the museum and took one of your tours, just like I told them to.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. I wish they would have told me they were related to you,” Val said, trying valiantly to keep her smile in place.
If anyone had mentioned knowing Cora to her, Val would have made a point to ignore them the entire duration of the tour. Yes, that would have been rude, but she would have done it anyway, because this woman was one of her least favorite people in the entire world.
“Lorna Magens’s girl, Tara, works at the hospital. Did you know that?” Cora asked as she leaned on Val’s car and folded her arms over her chest.
“No. I didn’t know that,” Val replied. “I haven’t seen Tara since she went off to college.”
“Well, she’s back now. Graduated and has a degree in nursing. That’s why she works at the hospital.”
“Okay. That’s good for her,” Val said, and then moved like she was about to put one foot in the car.
Cora came closer until she could drop her arms and wrap her fingers around the window part of the door that was still open.
“Tara said she saw you at the hospital last night. You came in with Prince Roland, of all people. Now, I haven’t heard a word about any of the royal family being at the hospital last night, so I wasn’t about to believe what Tara said—until I rode past your house this morning.”
Val did not reply.
“You don’t have money to buy a car like that, and your father’s as unlucky in gambling as he’s managed to be in his sorry life, so I know he didn’t buy it for you,” Cora continued. Her fake eyelashes resembling spider’s legs when she blinked.
“It wasn’t my car,” Val said simply, and then slipped into the driver’s seat of her car.
She was about to pull the door closed when Cora stepped in the way.
“You aren’t trying to get your clutches on the other prince, are you? Girl, you’re just like your daddy. Delusional!” Cora snapped. “Your poor mama is probably turning over in her grave right now knowing what you’re doing. It’s disgraceful, Val.”
“You’re in my way, Ms. Cora,” Val said as steadily as she could manage.
Her patience was wearing thin.
“I want you to listen to me, chile. And listen good,” Cora continued.
Val shook her head after looking away to snap her seat belt in place. Cora was wagging a finger and about to tell her something Val knew for sure she didn’t want to hear.
“No, Ms. Cora. I do not have time to listen to you today.”
Before the woman could say another word, Val pulled on the door bumping the woman until she finally had the good sense to get out of the way. When she was able to, Val slammed her door closed and started her car just as quickly as she could. She pulled out of the parking spot without even looking for oncoming traffic. Val just drove and prayed she’d make it to her destination safely. On second thought, what did it matter if she did or not? If this was all she ever had to look forward to in life...
Chapter 8
Val didn’t curse. She didn’t scream and she didn’t get out of the car.
He was sitting on her front step, sitting on her welcome mat. Wearing a dove-gray suit, his jacket open so she could see the white dress shirt he wore beneath it and the cotton-candy-pink tie he’d undone but left hanging around his neck. On his feet were expensive shoes in a darker shade of gray, and his socks were gray with pink polka dots. A striking outfit for a striking man.
Why was he there again?
Why did the gods get such a kick out of making her life miserable?