The Prince's Devious Proposal

by Rayner, Holly

  “No, normal bosses let their employees take vacation time,” Sarah said. “Your boss was some kind of sociopath. I’ve been telling you for years that you needed to leave that place.”

  “Then you think I made the right call?” Naomi asked.

  “Definitely,” Sarah said. “This is what Mom would have wanted you to do. She’d be glad to know that the money she left you is helping you get yourself out of a difficult situation and find something better.”

  Naomi smiled, feeling the knot in her chest loosen. It was always such a relief to be with her sister. Though they hadn’t ever been especially close, the fact that they had grown up together, living parallel lives, gave them a knowledge of each other that no one else could duplicate. Nobody knew better how to put Naomi’s mind at ease than Sarah did.

  They found her suitcase and went out to Sarah’s car. “Do you want to stop for something to eat?” Sarah asked. “Or should we just go home?”

  “We don’t need to stop,” Naomi said. “Maybe I’ll order something later if I get hungry.”

  “And we have plenty of food at the house,” Sarah said. “Of course you’re welcome to anything while you’re here…except Jamie’s string cheeses. He screams bloody murder if anyone else eats his string cheeses.”

  “Jamie’s four now?” Naomi asked, feeling guilty that she wasn’t sure.

  Sarah nodded, clearly not minding having to answer the question. “Jamie’s four and Ella is six.”

  “Wow,” Naomi said. “That’s, what, first grade?”

  “Kindergarten,” Sarah said. “She’ll start first grade in the fall.”

  “I can’t believe you almost have a first-grader,” Naomi said.

  Sarah laughed. “Right?” she said. “I remember when you were starting first grade. Remember that backpack you had with the puppies and the soccer ball?”

  Naomi laughed. She had forgotten all about that, but now that Sarah reminded her, the memory came back. “I didn’t even know what soccer was,” she recalled. “I just picked it because it was pink and it had dogs on it.”

  “You were obsessed with it,” Sarah said. “You wore it around the house for a week before school started that year.”

  “Did I really?”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t put it down. Even at the dinner table. You sat way forward in your chair so that you could keep your backpack on behind you.” She laughed. “It was really cute.”

  Naomi smiled. This was one of the great things about being with her sister. Sarah had known her longer than anyone. She could remind Naomi of things about herself that Naomi had forgotten. It was the kind of thing their mother had once done.

  Naomi was glad she still had someone in her life who could do that for her.

  They pulled up in front of Sarah’s house. Harry was waiting outside with the kids. He hugged Naomi, then got her suitcase out of the car. “I’ll take this to the guest room,” he said.

  Jamie and Ella wrapped their arms around Naomi’s legs. “Aunt Naomi’s here!” Ella cried.

  “Let Aunt Naomi get inside,” Sarah said. “Let’s go show her the sign you made, okay?”

  The kids released her and ran into the house. “We made you a sign!” Ella called back over her shoulder.

  “They’ve been really excited,” Sarah explained. “They needed some way to channel their energy, so we got out the crayons.”

  Sure enough, a huge banner hung from the second-floor balcony. Jamie and Ella had drawn pictures (and, in Jamie’s case, scribbles) across most of its surface, and one of the adults had printed “Welcome Aunt Naomi!” in big letters.

  Naomi was overwhelmed. “This is really sweet, Sarah.”

  Sarah wrapped an arm around her waist. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she said. “It was sad for me that you had to leave early last time. Stay as long as you want to, okay?”

  Naomi smiled. For the first time in what seemed like a long time, she felt like she could relax. “Thank you.”

  * * *

  Later that night, while Harry put the kids to bed, Naomi and Sarah sat in the kitchen, an open bottle of wine between them.

  “Mom would be glad we’re doing this,” Naomi said. “She always told me she wished we’d spend more time together.”

  “She said that to me too,” Sarah said. “And she was right. I used to brush her off when she said it, but I should have listened. We should have tried to reconnect sooner.”

  “At least we’re doing it now,” Naomi said.

  Sarah nodded. “So what’s been going on with you?”

  Naomi laughed.

  “What’s funny?” Sarah asked.

  “It’s not funny,” Naomi said. “It’s just…a lot. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  Sarah frowned. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Is this about Mom? Are you having trouble dealing with what happened?”

  “No, it’s not about Mom,” Naomi said. “It’s actually… Oh, God. You’re going to think I’m so irresponsible.”

  “I already think you’re irresponsible,” Sarah said, but she was smiling. “You don’t have to worry, Naomi. Whatever it is, you know I’m on your side.”

  Naomi sighed. “I hope you still feel that way when I tell you what I’ve done,” she said.

  But she knew she had to tell her sister. She couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.

  Slowly, bit by bit, the story of her relationship with Petr spilled out. She told Sarah how he had presented himself as a fan of her music, and how he had revealed himself to be a prince. She shared how he had charmed her and taken her away to Europe. She told Sarah how the first-class tickets and beautiful accommodations had made way for standard fare, and how she had eventually discovered that his family was in debt.

  By the time she came to the final act of the story—her second meeting with Petr at the Crystal Lounge and the revelation that he had only gotten close to her in hopes of claiming her inheritance—she could see the anger on Sarah’s face. Anxiety gripped her. Was her sister about to tell her off for being so careless? Would Sarah feel betrayed that Naomi had put their mother’s money at risk?

  “What an absolute bastard,” Sarah said.

  Naomi looked up at her sister. “You’re not angry with me?”

  “Angry with you?” Sarah asked. “I’m mad at him! He’s the one who lied to you and took advantage of you!”

  “But I fell for it,” Naomi said. “I was an idiot.”

  “You got tricked,” Sarah said. “I’m not going to blame you for that. Okay, maybe it was a little naïve, but come on. He deliberately set out to con you. He’s the bad guy here, not you.” She frowned. “Did you really think I was going to be mad at you?”

  “Of course,” Naomi said. “I got married to a guy after only knowing him for a couple of weeks. You would never have done something that stupid.”

  “Well, you and I are very different people,” Sarah pointed out. “I’m obsessive about that kind of thing. I made Harry go to counseling with me before we got married.”

  “You did?” Naomi hadn’t known that.

  “I wanted to make sure we were compatible,” Sarah said. “I had this whole list of questions for him. Things I thought we needed to be on the same page about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, some of them were worthwhile things, like whether or not he wanted to have kids and where he wanted to live long-term,” Sarah said. “But some of the stuff on my list was stupid. Whether forks should go tines-up or tines-down in the dishwasher.”

  “Silly question,” Naomi said. “Tines-down.”

  “Right? But Harry said tines-up.”

  “What? What’s wrong with him?”

  Sarah laughed. “He says that’s the only way they get really clean, that food sticks to them if you put them tines-down. But the point is, it doesn’t really matter. Our therapist made me realize that I was being neurotic. At some point, you just have to take the plunge. Marriage isn’t about figuring out every detail beforehand, i
t’s about agreeing that you’re going to figure things out together along the way.”

  “I thought something like that before I married Petr,” Naomi said. “That was how I justified to myself that we were moving so quickly.”

  “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” Sarah poured them each some more wine. “But don’t think that just because I wouldn’t have done something that it’s automatically wrong. You’re more courageous than I am. I’ve always admired that.”

  “Really?” Naomi was surprised.

  “Really,” Sarah said. “You impress me.”

  “He was so nice to me in the beginning,” Naomi said, swirling her wine and staring into the glass pensively. “He really seemed like he liked me.”

  “That was part of his act, I’m sure.”

  “Maybe,” Naomi said. “I don’t know. There was so much that just wasn’t necessary. He didn’t have to treat me as well as he did.” She hesitated. “And when we met up for the last time, he told me that he’d changed his mind.”

  “What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

  “He said he didn’t want to take the money anymore,” Naomi explained. “That all he wanted was me. That he’d fallen in love with me for real.”

  “You can’t just take him at his word,” Sarah said. “Not after what he did to you.”

  “I know that,” Naomi said. “But when I spoke to the lawyer, he said that my husband would have been able to claim the money on my behalf. Petr could have gotten it, if he had wanted to, but he didn’t.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” Sarah said. “Maybe he didn’t know who your lawyer was. Or maybe he’s trying to figure out a way to have his cake and eat it too.”

  “You mean, stay married to me and still get the money?”

  “Right,” Sarah said. “You’re a catch. Maybe he wants to take your money without driving you to divorce him.”

  “So…so you definitely think I should divorce him, then?” Naomi asked.

  Sarah frowned. “Are you considering not doing that?”

  “I don’t know,” Naomi sighed. “I don’t know which version of Petr is the true one. I don’t know what to believe. What if he’s telling me the truth now? What if he really loves me, and he regrets the fact that he tried to trick me?”

  “Does it matter?” Sarah asked. “It doesn’t erase what he did.”

  “But what he did…” Naomi said. “It was a plan his whole family made to save themselves. It was a plan that was made before he and I ever met. I’m not saying it wasn’t wrong, but isn’t it possible that our relationship woke him up to how wrong it was? Isn’t it possible that knowing me changed him?”

  “I suppose anything’s possible,” Sarah said. “But how could you ever put your trust in him again after what’s happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Naomi said. “But I have to admit that there’s a part of me that wants to. I want to believe that he’s changed. That what he’s telling me now is the truth, and that the things that happened between us were real.

  “You need to be careful,” Sarah said. “Losing some of your inheritance is one thing. It’s only money. But I don’t want to see this man break your heart.”

  Chapter 18

  Petr’s name and face continued to float in and out of Naomi’s mind over the next couple of weeks.

  Fortunately, there were plenty of distractions. Jamie and Ella remained thrilled with her presence. Every morning they came bounding down the stairs to greet Naomi as she drank her morning coffee, clamoring to show her a favorite toy or persuade her to join them for their morning cartoons. She became familiar with the soothing music and bright primary colors of children’s programming, and by the end of the first week, she was singing along with the kids to the theme songs of their favorite shows.

  Harry turned out to be an absolute blast to spend time with. Naomi had never gotten to know him well—he and Sarah had met after she had moved to New York, so they had never spent much time together—but she discovered to her surprise and delight that she really liked him.

  She had known he liked to cook, but she had never realized how skilled he was. On her first morning, he made omelets to order for everyone. Sarah and the kids took it in stride, as though having their breakfast made to their request was an everyday occurrence, and Naomi soon came to realize that it was.

  Dinners were another matter. Harry cooked experimentally, setting out ingredients at random and combining them by instinct to see what he could make, inviting anyone who wanted to add an ingredient to his prep table. Naomi got into the habit of joining him, trying to challenge him with increasingly obscure or difficult ingredients, but he was always up to the task. The end result was always delicious.

  Every night, after the dishes had been cleared away and the kids had been put to bed, Naomi and Sarah sat in the kitchen or under soft blankets on the plush couch with a bottle of wine or a couple of beers and discussed their lives. Much to Naomi’s relief, the topic of Petr didn’t come up again, and she got the feeling Sarah was letting her decide when and if she wanted to talk about him.

  “You know,” Sarah said one night, after Naomi had been in New York for about a week, “we have one of your old guitars. You can take it if you want to.”

  “You do?” Naomi asked. “Why do you have that?” Sarah had never played an instrument. She had been more interested in sports.

  “I don’t know,” Sarah said. “I guess it somehow got mixed in with some of my stuff, and when the movers were picking up my things from Mom’s house, they grabbed it too. I set it aside for you when I found it.”

  “Where is it?” Naomi asked.

  “It’s in the basement,” Sarah said. “We never took it out of the case. Ella wanted to a few times, but I told her she couldn’t.”

  “Maybe she’d like to see it,” Naomi said.

  “She definitely would,” Sarah said. “Don’t feel like you have to get it out for her or anything, though.”

  “No, I don’t mind,” Naomi said. It would be nice to hold a guitar again. It had been a while.

  The following day, she found the guitar and brought it up to the guest room where she was staying. Ella trailed after her.

  “Are you taking that violin out?” she asked.

  “Guitar,” Naomi corrected. “I thought we’d have a look at it. What do you think?”

  Ella nodded solemnly. It was clear that her mother had driven home to her the fact that the guitar was something serious, not a toy.

  Naomi laid the case on her bed, unclasped it, and pulled the instrument out. It wasn’t her favorite guitar, but it was a good one, one of the ones she’d taken on tour with her. She recognized the little chip in the neck from where the Desert Flowers’ drummer had stumbled into her on the bus one day and scraped his ring against it.

  “Can I play it?” Ella asked.

  “It might be too big for you to hold,” Naomi said. She sat down and pulled the guitar into her arms. “Why don’t you pluck this string?” she asked, pointing.

  Ella did.

  “Keep going,” Naomi said, tuning as Ella plucked. Soon, the string had been coaxed into a close approximation of the appropriate note. She would need to have this guitar restrung, she knew—these strings were just too old—but it would do for today.

  She and Ella repeated the process on the rest of the strings, and then Naomi placed her fingers in position for a G chord. “Strum them all,” she told Ella.

  Ella did. Her face broke into a delighted grin. “Play a song!” she said, jumping up and down.

  Naomi found the chords for one of the cartoon theme songs they’d been singing each morning and picked her way through it. Ella quickly recognized the tune and began to sing along.

  When the song was over, Naomi returned to the G chord and began to strum absently. This was how she had always begun her songwriting—by strumming a single chord over and over until she felt the inclination to move to another. Before long, a melody would emerge.

  At lea
st, that was how it had been at one time.

  After the tour had ended, she had tried to write more songs, but she seemed to have lost the touch. Nothing had come to her. She had sat holding her guitar for hours, waiting for inspiration to strike, but it never had.

  But now, as she played, the image of Petr’s face returned to her.

  She shifted to a minor chord.

  “That sounds sad,” Ella said.

  Naomi nodded. “It does, doesn’t it?” She hummed along, moving through a series of chords, not yet certain of exactly what she was doing.

  “What song is that?” Ella asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Naomi admitted. “It’s a new song. I don’t know what it is yet.”

  * * *

  She played for hours, unable to put the guitar down.

  By the time the family sat down to dinner, Naomi had most of the song completed. It was a sad, haunting melody, aching with loss and pain, but at its end it resolved in a major key. Was that a note of hope? She wasn’t sure, but she knew that it felt right to end the song that way.

  “You’ve been working on something, haven’t you?” Sarah asked, passing the casserole Harry had made for them. “A new song. I didn’t recognize it.”

  For the first time, it occurred to Naomi that her sister probably knew all the songs on her album by heart. She had seen a few copies of the CD around the house. It made her feel surprisingly touched to think of Sarah listening to it.

  “I don’t know if it’s a song or not,” she said. “I’ve just been playing around.”

  “Do we get to hear it?” Harry asked.

  “You’ve been hearing it all day,” Naomi said, her snarky comment followed by a laugh.

  “But we want a performance,” he said. “Don’t we, kids? We want to hear Aunt Naomi play her new song, right?”

  “Yeah!” Ella cheered.