Rich Boy: A Royal Landlord Romance (Blue Collar Bachelors Book 5)

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Rich Boy: A Royal Landlord Romance (Blue Collar Bachelors Book 5) Page 24

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller


  This is what I was expecting. It’s the nightmare that’s haunted me since that night. He has every right to feel this way. He lost his sister, he lost his mobility. I’m the cause of it…and I’m about to become his King. It’s completely unfair. His anger is justified.

  That’s why his next words completely catch me off-guard. “But I’m tired of being angry. I’m tired of feeling jealous and screaming at god that you should have been the one who died instead of my sweet, innocent sister or that you should have ended up in this wheelchair instead of me. I’m tired, Xavier.” He bows his head. Pinches the bridge of his nose.

  My voice comes out so thick with emotion that it doesn’t even sound like me. “I am so fucking sorry, Stan.” A ball of emotion corks my throat but I push past it. “I’m sorry about everything. About everything that happened that night and about everything that happened after.” Even if I one day bring myself to accept that the car crash that killed Charlene and took away Stan’s ability to walk was an accident, my family’s actions following that night? I’ll never be able to accept that. The threats, the confidentiality agreements, the efforts to intimidate people who were already suffering so much. All in the name of protecting the fucking monarchy. That is completely unacceptable. “I don’t expect your forgiveness, Stan, but I am sorry.”

  I see a tear drop from his eye to the table in front of him. He rubs his eyes with his fist then looks up. “I’m here to forgive you, arsehole.”

  My chest expands on a surprised inhale.

  “I’m here to forgive you because it will finally allow me to move on with my life.” He adjusts his posture. Sits up straight in his chair. “I’ve met a woman that I love, Xavier. A beautiful, sweet, kind woman. And I’ve asked her to marry me. But she says she won’t do it as long as I’m carrying the yoke of my resentment with me. So, I’m forgiving you, I’m letting go of the past so that I can get my own happy future.” The faintest smile, a glimmer of hope sparkles on his face.

  I collapse back into my seat, a genuine grin swelling my cheeks. “I’m so damn happy for you, mate. In all honesty, I’m…relieved. I’m relieved.”

  I see specks of my former best friend in the creases around his eyes when he grins. “Don’t hold your breath waiting for a wedding invitation, though.”

  I chuckle. “Fair enough.” I’m just glad he’s found happiness after all the suffering he’s lived through. I’m glad love has given him a reason to smile.

  A moment of silence stretches between us and I realize that there are lessons I may be able to learn from this man. Here he is, confined to this wheelchair for the rest of his life, yet somehow, he’s found freedom. Meanwhile, I’m about to become a king and I feel absolutely trapped. “Tell me, Stan—how do I find peace like you have?”

  He looks up from the toast he’s nibbling on and eyes me. “First of all…” He grabs the bottle of alcohol from the table and wheels himself over to the edge of the pool. I watch as he draws back his arm and flings the drink into the water. He glances at me as he wheels back to the table. “First of all, face your bloody feelings. Or else you’ll drink yourself into an early grave. And if that happens, then your little sister will take the Throne and if the rumors are to be believed, the girl still eats crayons and shits in her underpants. So we’d all be fucked.”

  I dip my head to the side and chuckle into my balled up fist.

  “You’ve been drinking since we were kids. You and I both know exactly what’s bothering you. Face it. Get help for it. And move the fuck on.”

  Puffing up my chest, I try to lie through my teeth. “I’m fine, Stan. I don’t have any deep-seated mommy issues,” I say sarcastically. “I’m not the first bloke to grow up without a mother. Or to have a distant father.”

  “Keep telling yourself that lie and you’ll never move on.” He’s always been so damn blunt. And when I open my mouth to argue, he cuts me off. “Secondly, come clean. Tell the truth about what happened that night. If your family’s secrets are crippling you, keeping you from becoming the person you want to be, then shake off those bloody secrets and tell the truth.” He speaks quickly, not giving me the chance to argue or interrupt. “And finally, take a good hard look at the decisions you’re making. I see the big, smiling pictures of you and that flawless, soulless socialite all over the magazines but I know you. And I know that’s not the kind of woman you’d want to have by your side. I understand that you have duties to fulfill and things are expected of you but if you aren’t true to yourself, I don’t see how you’ll ever become the great king you were born to be.”

  By now, my jaw is rigid, my muscles are tight. I’m so damned angry. I just want to yell at him. How dare he talk to me like that?! But I know that everything he just said is right. The guy knows me better than nearly anyone and everything he just said is right.

  Even though I hate all of it.

  Stan has finished eating practically everything on the table. He eyes the untouched blueberry scone on my plate. “Are you going to eat that?”

  “You can have it.” Pushing my plate in his direction, I rise out of my chair, unable to bring my eyes to his. “I need to process all this.”

  “Fine,” I hear him call after me. “But don’t take too long. You have an entire kingdom waiting on you now.”

  Don’t I ever know it!

  40

  sadie

  The music is on louder than usual today. Steven Tyler’s voice shakes the glass of the display. Normally, I’d be restraining myself from climbing up onto the counter and popping my ass like nobody’s business. But lately, I’m just not feelin’ it.

  Everything’s a struggle. Just waking up and brushing my teeth uses up most of my energy reserves. Then, I have to come in to work and smile and be friendly and pretend I’m not crying inside, missing Xavier, aching over the fact that he’s gone and he’s getting married and he’s about to assume a life he doesn’t think he’s ready for. It’s killing me. All of it is killing me.

  Nat is on lunch break and I find myself working the cash with Reese and Vivian. I love my bosses. I really do. But I don’t have the energy to be ‘on’ right now. To be the model employee, smiling with the customers, laughing at their jokes, using grace and humor to deflect sexual harassment from creepy old guys.

  I swear if any man tries to grope my ass today, that old bastard is going down!

  Anyway, the song switches to an old school Gwen Stefani song. Reese and Viv start howling from the other end of the counter.

  “Pregnant lady dance-off!” Reese hollers, throwing her arms up in the air and thrusting her hips, causing her belly to jerk up and down.

  Vivian won’t be undone. She grips the bottom of her baby bump and moonwalks right into me. “Sadie, you’ll be the judge. Okay?”

  “Uh, umm. Maybe this isn’t the best idea…”

  Both of these women are pregnant enough to pop. The last thing I want is to end up have to perform a double delivery on the coffee counter.

  Viv waves me off. “Ah, it’ll be fun!” And suddenly, I’m reminiscing about the good old days when Vivian was an uptight, prissy princess with a stick up her ass. At least back then, she wouldn’t be trying to force me into the middle of this fuckery.

  Well now, all the customers are gathered around the counter, hooting and cheering. “Dance-off! Dance-off! Dance-off!”

  Reese launches into a vigorous round of full-body krumping. Viv follows up with a series of shamelessly ridiculous white girl moves. Overdramatic hip sways. Way-too-enthusiastic air-punches. And a runway strut that would make RuPaul do a double-take.

  I have to duck out of the way to avoid taking a flapping elbow to the face.

  Oh my god—please don’t start having contractions.

  Try as I might, I can’t stop my lips from curling into a reluctant smile.

  Vivian peeks over her shoulder at me with a look of victory on her face. “Ah! There it is! A smile!”

  I bite back my grin. “Okay, I’m gonna go next door and get yo
ur baby daddy before something irreversible happens.” I round the counter with every intention of popping into Clinton’s barbershop next door and telling him to come get his woman.

  She sticks out her tongue and keeps on dancing.

  I push through the crowd to the entrance and just as I’m stepping onto the sidewalk, the first black SUV pulls into the parking lot outside.

  And then the second.

  The third.

  A whole damn motorcade.

  My hands go to my chest, gripping my heart through the knitted synthetic fibers of my uniform shirt. I stand on the sidewalk, frozen as about a dozen identical vehicles halt in the parking lot, leaving an empty space in the middle. A dozen tall, suited, sunglasses-wearing men stand emotionless beside the cars. It’s like a scene from The Matrix.

  I jolt when a trumpet sounds loudly from the end of the parking lot and when I look that way, I see a four horse-drawn carriage entering the lot.

  And I think I’m dying. I see Xavier in the coach, standing tall and regal, looking absolutely majestic. Even from this distance, I can feel his eyes peeled to me. The carriage pulls up into the empty parking space right in front of where I’m standing.

  He’s draped in a thick velvet cape trimmed with fake fur, braided ropes and sashes running across his chest, a double row of coppery buttons running down his broad chest. And of course, an enormous gaudy crown.

  My head is so light I think I might faint as Xavier dismounts the wagon and his purposeful steps bring him in my direction.

  He stops right in front of me, so close I can virtually see his heart beating beneath the thick fabric of his red frock coat. His shoulders heave with relief and he gives me a lopsided grin. “Hey there, good-looking…”

  41

  xavier

  I’m sweating like a damn fool in this over-the-top costume. But just seeing the intrigue and amusement on Sadie’s pretty face is already worth the trouble.

  “Xavier—what are you doing here?” She tilts her head to the side and her eyes scan my outfit from top to bottom. “And what the hell are you wearing?”

  My skin tingles at the sound of my name on her breath. I never thought I’d hear it again.

  I chuckle, choosing to address her second question first. “What? You don’t like it?” I spread my arms out around me to show off my attire.

  “Well, you look very handsome in it. Did the Burger King mascot put out a new clothing line?”

  I psht. “The Burger King mascot never had this much swagger…” I got the thing off of Ebay. It’s the best I could do on such short notice.

  Y’see, I couldn’t wait one second longer. I had to get to Sadie as soon as possible. I had to bring the fairytale to her, right here in Middle-of-Nowhere, U.S.A. And to achieve that, I had to dress the part of the fairytale prince. Hence, the outfit.

  She covers her lips with her fingers and laughs, her eyes still broadcasting her shock and bewilderment. “I—I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.”

  What’s going on?

  What’s going on is that I finally pulled my head out of my arse and decided to stop punishing myself for something that happened when I was still a 17-year-old child. I realized that being alive is pointless if you’re not really living. I realized that I can’t live without her. I refuse to live without her for one more second. I’m just hoping she doesn’t make me grovel too much.

  Grovelling is hard when you’re carrying around three-pound headgear and a thick synthetic velvet cloak in the hot Illinois summer sun.

  After my conversation with Stanley, I realized I had two choices. One was to drink that fucking bottle of brandy. And then drink another and another until my liver split in two.

  The other option was to go find her. And claim her once and for all…despite the obstacles telling me I can never have her.

  “Where’s your fiancee?” she whispers, her voice sad and low.

  I swallow and look her right in the eyes. “I couldn’t go through with it,” I say. “I couldn’t marry another woman just so I could take the Throne.” I run the back of my finger down her cheek and I say a silent prayer of gratitude when she leans into my touch instead of pulling away. “I couldn’t bring myself to do that while I’m so very in love with you.”

  Her breath stutters and she looks like she might swoon. But then, her eyes widen with fear. “Xavier—you didn’t do anything stupid, did you? You didn’t abdicate the Throne?”

  I laugh lightly. “I’ve done many stupid things. The dumbest one being that I walked away from you. I shouldn’t have done that…And as for the Throne, I’ll only take that seat if you say ‘yes’ to taking the seat right beside me.”

  A long breath quivers out of her. “What are you saying? You’re being so crazy right now.”

  Taking both of her hands in mine, I press my lips to her knuckles. “This is my grand gesture, Sadie. And I look like a clown. I’m sweating like a whore in the front pew of a cathedral.” My heart lights up when she giggles. “I don’t care. I’m here for you. To apologize. To lay my soul bare at your feet and beg for the key to your heart. Because I’ve been afraid of my destiny for so long. What I didn’t realize is I can do it. I can be king…I can do anything if you’re there right next to me.”

  Time to break out the big guns. Drawing in a lungful of air, I drop to one knee right there on the pavement and pull the velvet ring box from my pocket. I snap the top open, revealing the dazzling emerald ring inside.

  I hear total hysteria break free inside the bakery. My guards block the door to keep the crowd inside.

  I’m pretty sure that’s not legal. We’d better speed things along.

  Sadie is trembling visibly now, long tears rolling from her eyes. She shakes her head. “I can’t be your queen, Xavier. I—I don’t know how to be a queen.” Her expression drops. There’s so much earnesty in her eyes. “I love you so much and if you were just a regular guy, I’d say ‘yes’ without hesitation but I have tattoos. And I’ve never seen a queen with hips wide like mine. And I don’t even know who my parents are and…” She pushes back tears with her knuckles. “Your grandmother would never accept me. Everything about me screams ‘No. Not a queen.’”

  I hate hearing her speak about herself like that. She obviously doesn’t see herself the way I see her. I hate that the world has shaken her spirit, that her parents left her doubting herself, that her ex led her to believe that his mother’s approval was a prerequisite for his love. I’m going to prove to her that they were all wrong.

  “Yes, you are a queen, Sadie. My queen. You have all the qualities I require. You’re kind and you’re smart. You know how to laugh at yourself. You make me see reason when I’ve got my head up my arse. You cut me down to size when my ego grows too big…And that arse? That arse is definitely a ‘yes’.”

  She laughs and those caramel irises glitter.

  “I don’t care what my grandmother says or what anyone else says, for that matter. Everything about you is a ‘yes’ for me.” My eyes beg. My heart begs. "Be my queen, Sadie. Say yes. And anything you want, I'll give it to you. Because it doesn't matter where we are—whether it's my majestic palace in the sprawling hills of Folkshire in Ridgeland or the smelly, damp apartment above the fried chicken shop in Copper Heights—wherever you are is my kingdom. Whenever you smile at me, I feel like a king.”

  “Oh Xavier…” She clutches her heart and struggles for words. Her hesitation is killing me.

  I hear a voice bleed out from behind the closed cupcake shop door. “SAY ‘YES’!”

  We turn that way and find Natalie there in the crowd rooting for her friend.

  Sadie and I turn to each other and laugh. The widest smile pulls across her face. “I love you so much…”

  “Then, say ‘yes’ to me, darling. I have to be with you. Please. In this big, cold world, it's the only thing that makes sense." I take her hands in mine and look her straight in the eyes.

  My heart swells to the size of a continent when
she whispers through her tears. “Yes. Of course, it’s yes. It will always be yes for you.”

  My hand shakes as I slip that ring onto her finger. And I swear I hear the birds chirping just a bit louder and the sun shines just a bit brighter.

  I’ve claimed my Queen. Finally, she’s mine.

  All is right in the world.

  42

  Xavier

  My foot taps at a hundred beats per minute. I'm sure the soles of the brand new leather brogues on my feet will be worn out by the end of the day. I grip the edge of the coffee table to keep from tapping my fingers, too, because that will surely be the trigger that will push Lord Kent over the edge.

  He sits rigidly beside me, his lips thinned, his brow stern, the archetype of the surly lawyer. He's got on a gray three-piece pinstripe suit with a satin tie, a pocket watch, the works. He looks rather official and intimidating. And angry. Very, very angry.

  The palace’s PR team is huddled in the corner of the drawing room. They’re pretty pissed off, too.

  I didn't follow their advice. When I went to them to tell them that I'd be going public about what really happened the night of Charlene's death, the lawyer advised me to stay quiet. The publicists agreed. But I couldn't. The secret has been eating at me for too long. I had to get it out in the open, to unload my conscience.

  So with Sadie sitting at my side, I made a video, I confessed everything, I told the people of Ridgeland the truth. If they're going to have me as their king someday soon, they deserve my candor.

  The confession went viral and quickly led to Parliament calling for a public referendum vote. The question on the ballot is simple.

 

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