Tessa’s shoulders drop as she starts to run faster. “I should just pretend I’m sick and make Arthur go on his own to England.”
“Or you should realize you’re absolutely beautiful the way you are,” I say.
“Nope, both bad options,” Xavier says. “You set a goal, Princess Tessa. Don’t fail yourself now. Not when you’re so close.”
“I hate him sometimes,” she mutters to me.
Xavier interjects with, “No you don’t. You just hate being held accountable to yourself.”
“Do you have to be right all the time?” she pants as she kicks it into high gear.
Instead of answering, he zips ahead of us to grab James, who has gone off the path and is now heading in the direction of the river. Tessa and I immediately stop running, both of us bending at the waist with our hands on our knees.
“Well, I suppose when he does stuff like that, it’s worth having him around,” I say.
“Just barely,” she answers.
13
Liar, Liar, Chanel Skirt on Fire…
Arabella
“You’re in Italy?” I ask, sitting back down on my bed. It’s early morning and I woke to a text from Will telling me to call him as soon as I got up. “So I guess we’re not going out tonight?” I ask, unable to come up with anything intelligent to say.
“I’m so sorry. Supper with Kenneth went so much better than I could have expected. We got to talking about the best places in the world to climb—he’s a real climber too—and it turns out neither of us have been to the Dolomites, which is crazy when you really think about it because it’s in the top five climbing spots on the planet. Honestly, it’s right up there with Kalymnos and El Capitan. So he just said, ‘Let’s go, we can film the commercial while we’re there,’ and we hopped on his jet and here we are,” he says, sounding far too enthusiastic for this hour of the day. “Kenneth’s so cool. You’ll love him. He even called Bear Grylls a total hack. Can you believe it? He also said I’m the real deal, which is why he wanted so badly to meet me. It’s actually kind of flattering.”
“Sounds like it,” I say, aiming for a supportive girlfriend tone but missing badly.
He doesn’t seem to notice. He just keeps rambling. “Anyway, I didn’t want to call from the plane in case I’d wake you. I hope you’re not upset. We’ll only be a couple of days, and to be honest, it’s going to be really great for the show, because we’ll be live-streaming our climbs. But I’d hate it if you were mad about this.”
“Mad?” I ask. Hell yeah I’m mad. Who goes to Italy on a whim without bothering to tell his girlfriend he’s leaving? I get up, tucking my mobile between my ear and shoulder, then pull on my ivory silk robe. “Of course I’m not upset. This is huge for your career.”
“Thank God, because the entire time we were flying, I was so worried that you’re going to be really upset or that you’d feel like I’m basically abandoning you when things aren’t necessarily going well.”
“Not going well? Between us?” I ask, my heart speeding up in my chest as I stare out the window at the meadow.
“No. God, no. I meant with your family and the whole first episode and all that.”
The way he says it is casual and detached, as though it has nothing to do with him. It’s as if the fact that my family completely disapproves of him is utterly irrelevant to him. Or maybe he’s just excited and I’m reading something into it that isn’t there. “Do you know when you’ll be back?”
“Kenneth thinks we should be in and out of there in three days. He knows I’m expected back in Avonia by Tuesday. Dwight booked me a breakfast television guest slot teaching people how to make bannock or something like that. I’m not really sure. Anyway, I’m hoping to see you Sunday night, but Monday at the very latest, depending on the weather. Either way, I promise I’ll make our date extra incredible.”
“Brilliant, yeah. It’ll be all the more wonderful for the anticipation.” There, did that sound sufficiently supportive? I turn from the window and walk toward my en suite, my bare feet slapping against the cold marble floor.
“Have I told you lately how lucky I am that you’re my girl?” he asks, melting my chilly heart a little. “Honestly, Belle, you’re the best. A lot of women would be annoyed when something like this pops up without any notice, but not you. It’s one of the things that makes us such an amazing couple—we both understand what it’s like to have to rise up to these types of obligations.”
“Well, in your case, it’s rising up by way of belaying.” I chuckle a little to soften what started out as a supremely sarcastic comment.
“You are upset, aren’t you?”
Apparently my chuckling didn’t quite cover my true feelings. “If I were, would you get on a plane and rush back home?”
“See, when you say something like that, it makes me think you’re actually not happy.”
“Honestly, my feelings on the matter are irrelevant to the outcome. You’re already there, and it’s a wonderful opportunity for you, which I would never want to take away. And so, we pivot and press on.”
“Is that your family motto?”
“No, our motto is neque oblivisci nec ignoscetis. Neither forget nor forgive.”
(That’s not really our motto. It’s actually officium potissimum, which is Latin for duty above all, but scaring him a wee bit isn’t necessarily a bad thing, is it?) “Now, I really must run because I have a full day ahead of me. Have a marvelous time. Be safe and I will see you in a couple days for our incredible incredibly romantic date.”
“Yes, you will. And yes, it will be.”
“Love you.”
“I love you too.”
Two days later
ABN Entertainment News Weekly
“I’m Veronica Platt. Welcome to Entertainment News Weekly. Tonight’s top story—trouble in paradise for a certain princess? That’s what the entire kingdom’s been buzzing about since Princess Arabella’s new beau, Will Banks, her co-host on Princess in the Wild, has gone MIA—to Italy of all places. Giles Bigly joins us live in-studio from the unscripted television headquarters of the ABN Studios.”
Giles is seen standing in front of the glass doors that read ‘Unscripted’ in white lettering. He’s looking off to the left speaking with someone. “This is ridiculous. I can literally see the studio door from where I’m standing. Is it really necessary to have me out here in the hallway when I could be—”
He stops speaking and turns the camera. “Good evening, Veronica. We’ve got quite the story on our hands today as the producers of Princess in the Wild have been scrambling to find a replacement for several promotional events that Will Banks was meant to take on this week as part of his contractual obligations.”
“Yes, yes, that’s very interesting,” Veronica says. “But I think our viewers may be more concerned about what’s happening between Princess Arabella and Will, relationship-wise. And why would he disappear to one of the world’s most romantic places without the woman he claims to be the love of his life?”
Giles narrows his eyes, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yes, I suppose that is what people are interested in, isn’t it? Now that the lines between reality TV and actual news seem to be crisscrossed so badly, no one can untangle them. It’s like a spool of thread that’s been left with a litter of unsupervised kittens all afternoon.”
“And apparently we’re mixing a little poetry in now to top it all off,” Veronica says, letting out a hearty laugh. Her face grows serious again. “Joining me in the studio is Hannah Gable, owner of the website and blog, Will’s Wild Fangirls, to discuss these recent events. Hannah, you call yourself the quintessential expert on all things Will Banks. Thank you for joining us.”
Giles’ voice can be heard over the audio of Veronica. “She gets to sit at the desk? That tweenage stalker who’s obsessed with Will Banks’ abs? Have you seen her site? It’s just shirtless—”
“Oh, the producer seems to have forgotten to shut off Giles’ mic. Darrell, can
we cut him, please?” Veronica stares intently at the camera. “Much better. Sorry about that, folks.” Turning to Hannah, she smiles. “So, you have a theory as to exactly what’s happening between Princess Arabella and Will. Would you like to share that with us?”
“Love to. I’ll tell you exactly what’s going on between them—absolutely nothing. It’s a ruse, Veronica. One of these Hollywood set-ups for publicity.”
“How can you be so sure? If it is a ruse, they’ve definitely gone to extraordinary lengths to make it appear as though they’re a couple. They’ve been photographed together in places as far as the Cook Islands, the Benaventes, and of course here in Avonia.”
Hannah purses her lips and shakes her head knowingly. “Have you ever heard of a green screen, Veronica?”
“I definitely have, having spent the better part of my adult life in the film and television industry. Have you got any proof that they’re not a real couple?”
“Does anyone have proof that they are a couple?” Hannah asks. “Listen, I’ve been studying Will for over three years now. I know his every habit. I’ve watched every second of every piece of footage that’s ever been shot of him. I know his favourite food. I know his favourite band. And I know that someone as dull as dishwater like Princess Arabella simply could not hold his interest for more than a few hours. Is she pretty?” Hannah shrugs. “I suppose in a conventional sense, yes. But does she have staying power to keep a man like him interested?” Shaking her head, she says,” Absolutely not. I mean, look, the first chance he got, he took off to Italy, which, in case you don’t know, is on the other side of Europe. It’s like really far. When I found out he was over there, I tried to book a trip to follow him, only I don’t have enough flyer miles to go. But trust me, if it is a real relationship, he’s looking for a way out.”
“Well,” Veronica says, tilting her head thoughtfully. “I do have to say, when they were on the pre-show, they didn’t seem to know each other all that well. They got less than thirty percent of the answers right. He wants five kids and she wrote two?”
“Right?” Hannah nods. “I mean, she didn’t even pick him as her phone-a-friend.”
“There you have it, folks. A man on the run, a princess left behind. And only her brother to be her phone-a-friend.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I shut the TV off and pour myself a tall glass of gin, top it up with a splash of orange juice, and a couple of ice cubes. Well, this is just great. First, Will takes off without even bothering to tell me he’s going, and now I’ve got these yahoos talking about how dreadfully dull I am.
Am I dull?
Maybe I am. I catch sight of myself in the mirror. My hair is still in the tight bun from this morning, and my barely there, very dignified makeup is still in place. Huh, that woman staring back at me does look dull. And uptight actually. And much older than twenty-nine.
I have a sip of my drink then shake my head. No, I’m fun and Will knows it. His trip is just a business opportunity. I’m fine. I’m going to treat myself to a nice bath and a face mask. And I won’t give that stupid gossip show another thought. I refuse to let the likes of Hannah Gable get in my head. Honestly, other than to ask him one question from thirty feet away, she’s never even met Will and yet she calls herself an expert on him? Pu-lease.
Two gins later, I am now working on a list that I shall burn as soon as I commit it to memory.
How to Keep a Man Like Will
Be accomplished and impressive at all times.
Be interesting. Find tidbits from the news (especially topics that interest him) and bring them up should there ever be a lull in the conversation.
Be funny.
Quickly become totally athletic.
Be sexy no matter what time of day or what’s happening.
Be amazing in the following areas: baking, cooking, sex (ie. be a total sex cat).
A loud knock at my door interrupts my list-making. The knocking grows more insistent, and I hear Tessa’s voice. “Hey, it’s me. Whatcha doing girl?”
I quickly stick the list in a coffee-table book about coffees from around the world and hurry to the door, only to find her standing in front of me with a Scrabble box.
“If you’ve come to distract me from watching the news or reading anything on the internet, it’s too late. I already saw it.” I walk back toward the living room, holding up my gin in my right hand. “Unless you’ve come by to drink and commiserate, there’s really no point.”
“Damn. I had to wait until Arthur got back from that dinner he was at before I could sneak over. I was worried I’d be too late.”
“You are. Gin?”
“Sorry, love,” Tessa says, following me into the living room. “I met my caloric maximum for the day. Well, truth be told, I’m already over by three-hundred cals. Somebody brought Krispy Kreme doughnuts to a meeting for the Female Sheep Ranchers Society this afternoon, and I went a little nuts.” She flops down onto the couch and pats the spot next to hers.
“Wait, are they ranchers who only raise female sheep or females who are sheep ranchers?”
“The second one,” she says, settling herself on my couch. “Confusing name, right?”
“Very.” I sit down and let myself slouch for once. “This sucks. I mean, I knew it would be hard, and so did Will. But I didn’t realize it would be this hard. The level of humiliation is something I’ve never experienced before.”
“Take it from the Queen of Humiliation, it’ll pass, I promise. The important thing is not to let them get in your head, no matter what they say or how many beautiful supermodels he’s travelling with.”
“Oh, don’t worry about her,” I say, having a sip of my drink. “She’s there with the owner of the company. Apparently, she’s his girlfriend.”
“Excellent,” Tessa says, looking slightly relieved before catching herself. “Not that I was worried Will wouldn’t be faithful or something. He seems like a great guy. It’s just that these sorts of situations can get in a girl’s head and do some nasty things.”
“I’m fine with the beautiful women,” I say. “It’s the nasty ones that bother me.”
“You mean that Hateful Hannah Stalker Face?” Tessa asks.
Nodding, I say, “I know I shouldn’t let the likes of her get to me. It’s just…”
“It’s just that she’s getting to you.”
“Yes.” I chew on my bottom lip for a second. “I know she’s merely a symptom of the trouble with being a royal, but it still stings to have strangers questioning your relationship.”
“So long as you and Will aren’t questioning it, it really won’t matter,” Tessa says. “But trust me, I completely know where you’re at. If it were me, I’d be upset too.”
I lean my head back against the couch, glad to have someone who understands.
“Yes, if it were me, I might even be doing something as silly as writing up a list of how to keep a man like Will interested which would be totally counterproductive.”
My gaze follows hers and I realize the top of my stupid list is poking out of the coffee-table book. When I look up at her, Tessa’s got one eyebrow raised.
I make a groaning sound. “Can you blame me?”
“No, I can’t. But, I also don’t want you to go down that rabbit hole,” she says, leaning forward and sliding the list out of the book. She holds it up. “This type of thing will cause nothing but trouble.”
“Oh, don’t—” I start, but realize it’s too late because she’s already reading it.
Tessa snorts. “Be a total sex cat. How many drinks have you had, anyway?”
“This is my second.”
“Maybe stop there.”
“Good idea.”
She rips up the paper, then tucks the pieces in her pocket. “You are enough, exactly the way you are. And Will loves you. It was very clear when I met him that he was desperate to make a good first impression, which is not something a man does when he’s casual about the woman he’s seeing.”
N
odding, I say, “Right. Yes. I have no doubt that he loves me.”
“Good. But, about that advice I gave you the other day—about not waiting too long to have ‘the talk’ about your future…”
“Yes?”
“If you haven’t done it yet, I think you’re right to wait. This shit is enough for you two to muddle through for now.” She tucks her leg under her bottom and turns to face me on the couch. “Unless you’ve already had the talk, in which case, ignore me completely.”
Shaking my head, I say, “We’ve only managed a couple of very short phone calls and some texts, and that’s a topic that requires us to be in the same room. Or the same country, at least.”
Tessa pats me on my knee in a way I imagine a mum would. “It’ll be all right. Just be patient and have faith in what you two have. And seriously stop watching that shite.”
“Okay, I will.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Arabella.”
And I’m going to fail miserably.
14
Loads of Strings Attached…
Will
San Candido, Italy - Early Tuesday Morning
Text from Dwight: I managed to re-book your Breakfast Television Slot for Friday. They aren’t pleased, but who cares? You’re making quite the splash with these live-streams, so if Kenneth wants to keep doing them, I say stick with the climbing for now. Just sent back the contract to his team with the amendments. Please don’t do something so spur of the moment again. Terrible move to go before the papers are signed. It all looks good though, and you should have enough for that ring you want (and then some). (On a side-note, if you don’t nip the stories about you and that model in the bud, you may not have use for an engagement ring.)
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