Royally Wild (Crazy Royal Love Romantic Comedy Book 2)

by Melanie Summers

  “Faster.” Jesus, I’d like to see him do it at all, let alone do it faster. Giorgio works up a sweat walking from his car to his director’s chair. Giving him a thumbs-up, I say, “You bet.”

  Lara walks over to him and he puts his megaphone down while the two of them have a brief conversation. Oh, for shit’s sake. Why don’t we just get everyone in a two-mile radius to make suggestions?

  He lifts the megaphone to his mouth and says, “Forget it. Come all the way down.”

  “For the day or for a few minutes?” I say. “If I have to come back up, I’d rather finish it up now.”

  Lara, who, along with everyone else on the set is wearing headphones, takes the bullhorn from Giorgio. “You’ll want to come down, Will. There seems to be some sort of emergency and …. uh… someone is desperately trying to reach you.”

  I start loosening the slack and rappel down. My heart pounds extra hard because I’m sure it’s Arabella, based on the fact that Lara didn’t want to give away who it was. Bugger. I bet this has something to do with Dylan. When I reach the sand and unclip myself, Lara hands me my phone. “Sorry, I didn’t read her messages, but your phone kept buzzing and dinging, so I figured you’d want to know.”

  “Thanks, yeah,” I say, wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my arm (which is also sweaty, so I’m basically smearing more sweat everywhere).

  Crap. Eight missed calls and fourteen text messages, all from Arabella.

  Call me immediately. It’s about the show.

  Where are you?

  Seriously—this is bad.

  Will, for real. I need to talk to you.

  I look at Giorgio. “I’m going to need a couple of minutes and some water before we do the last shot.”

  Without waiting for permission, I turn and walk down the beach, away from the crew, while a feeling of dread takes over. I dial and wait for Arabella to answer.

  “Finally, “she says, in place of hello. “I’ve been trying to reach you for two hours.”

  “Sorry, Belle,” I say, turning my back on everyone and facing the ocean. “We’re shooting that commercial this morning, remember?”

  “Yes, I’m fully aware of that,” she snaps. “But while you’re off living the dream, my life is pretty much falling apart.”

  Giorgio walks over and leans his head down so he can get in my face. He gives me the twirly finger ‘hurry up and finish the call’ gesture.

  I wave him off and turn away. “What happened?”

  “The show happened, which means the entire world has heard me complain about my shit life and now I look like the most ungrateful, tone-deaf, overprivileged, hateful brat on the planet,” she says, her voice shaking slightly. “The on-line backlash has already started, and it is ugly, Will. Ugly.”

  “Wait a minute, hang on,” I say, my stomach churning. “What are you talking about?”

  “I just need to know one thing, Will,” Arabella says, her voice suddenly angry instead of emotional. “Did you do it on purpose?”

  “Do what?” I walk farther away from the crew and find a boulder in the shade to sit down on.

  “On our first night in the jungle, did you mean to leave the camera on?” she asks. “If you did, I could almost understand because we got off on the wrong foot, but on the other hand, you really should’ve told me, if not when we started seeing each other, definitely before this aired.”

  “Slow down, Belle,” I say. “I’m having trouble understanding what you’re talking about.”

  “Our first night in Zamunda. At the campfire. We sang Tiffany and I admitted to you that I hate my life. You told me you shut the cameras off, but you recorded it,” she says. “Do you know how hard it’s going to be for me to come back from this? I mean, I’m a princess, for God’s sake, complaining about my horrible existence when there are literally millions of people around the world who are starving and homeless!”

  I rake my hand through my soaked hair, trying to figure out what the hell happened. “Hold on. There’s footage of you after I shut off the GoPros? “

  “Yes, there’s footage! All of it. Remember when you put that salve on my ankles and I asked you to turn off the cameras because I was embarrassed about my sores and you said you shut them off? And then we were singing—horribly offkey, by the way. I had no idea what an awful singer I was.” Her words spill out fast and filled with bitterness. “And I told you how I live my entire life in a luxurious little box and it’s such hell for me. You recorded the entire thing!”

  My heartbeat picks up again in my chest and my mind races to catch up with what’s happening, only I’m slightly dizzy from the heat and exertion, and none of this is making any sense to me. “They have video of it?”

  “Audio only,” she answers. “So, you’re saying it was an accident?”

  “Of course it was. Why would I…?” I stop for a second and suddenly it all becomes clear. And I don’t like it one bit. “Wait…you actually believe I secretly recorded you, then said nothing about it?”

  “No, well, maybe… I don’t know. I’m just so upset and confused.” Her voice goes up two octaves. “The first chance you got, you took off and now it seems like you’re not going to come back even though I need you here. Also, you were the one running the cameras so I thought…” Her voice trails off, leaving me to fill in the blanks.

  “—You thought I would secretly record you, not bother to mention it, then conveniently leave the country so I wouldn’t have to be around for the fallout?”

  “When you put it that way, it sounds silly,” she says.

  “Doesn’t it?” I ask with a biting tone I wish wasn’t there.

  “It’s just that Arthur said—”

  “Said what? That I did it on purpose to humiliate you?”

  “Yes,” she says, sounding slightly sheepish now, which she should if you ask me.

  I glance over my shoulder to see if anyone can hear me, only to realize that the assistant director is standing directly behind me, holding out a Gatorade. She gives me a sympathetic wince, hands me the drink, and mouths “sorry” before walking away.

  Giorgio, clearly not interested in my personal drama, yells into the megaphone, “We’re losing the light, Will.”

  Ignoring him, I say, “Listen, I’m really sorry that this happened, and I promise you I have no clue how any of that would’ve been recorded. And I hate that you’re having a rough go of things right now. Honestly, I hate it.” I take a breath and try to calm down, but her accusations have rocked me to my core. “But, for you to think I would do something like that on purpose? And then take off so I wouldn’t have to face you when you found out? Do you even know me at all?” Nope, can’t manage to sound calm. “We’re building a life together. At least I thought we were, but if you actually believe I could do something like this—”

  “I don’t,” she says, her voice breaking. “I just had to ask.”

  “No. You really didn’t.”

  “Will, you don’t understand,” she says. “When you’re in my position, it’s extremely difficult to know who you can trust.”

  “Come on.” I let out a frustrated chuckle. “You should know I’m in that category by now, shouldn’t you?”

  Her tone comes out stronger now. “It’s just that Arthur thought it was highly suspicious that as soon as you got me back here, you left me to deal with everything—”

  Arthur again. For fuck’s sake. “Oh, well, if Phone-a-Friend Arthur thinks I’m using you, he must be right, since he’s so smart. I guess that makes me what? A giant prick?”

  “No, Will,” Arabella answers. “But you’ve got admit, with that awful recording and you disappearing, it just…” she stops herself, probably before she insults me again.

  “Just what, Belle?” I spit out. “It’s just that I get an amazing career opportunity, and the minute I’m gone, you start doubting me?” I stand up and start pacing the sand. “I can’t believe you actually think I would betray you like that.”

  “
I’m sorry. I never should’ve said anything,” she whispers.

  I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn to see Giorgio standing in front of me. “Mi scusi, but you’re really going to have to wrap this up. Those clouds moving in are going to ruin the shot if we don’t get it right away.”

  I nod at him and hold up one finger. “Listen, I have to—”

  “—I heard it. Just go.” She sounds defeated, but I’m too upset to worry about her feelings at the moment.

  Letting out a loud sigh, I say, “I’ll be back there as soon as I can. In the meantime, if you wouldn’t mind not discussing our relationship with your brother, I’d really appreciate it.”

  With that, I hang up the phone and shove it in the pocket of my shorts. I open the Gatorade and suck down the entire bottle in one go, then stride back to the ropes to hook up, humiliation and frustration building in me as sand fills my climbing shoes.

  Kenneth and Lara walk over to me. He scratches his chin and says, “Rough go with these princesses, eh? Maybe you should try supermodels instead. They’re not nearly as high-maintenance.”

  I give him a questioning look, then he says, “Your mic was on.”

  Brilliant.

  “Are you okay?” Lara asks. “You need a minute?”

  Yes, yes, I do. What I really need is to jump into that ocean right there and go for a long swim until I burn off all this anger, but that’s not an option, is it? And since I’ve already been embarrassed enough for one day, I need to man up and act like my career is riding on what I do next—because it is. Giving her an easy smile, I say, “I’m totally fine. Never better. Ready to race to the top.”

  I’m currently on my third beer with no plans to stop until I’m blotto. I’m sitting oceanside at a table on the hotel’s restaurant patio, watching the sun sink down into the sea. Thankfully, for the first time in days, I’m alone with some time to think, which may or may not be a good thing. I stare down at my phone on the teak tabletop, and reread Arabella’s last text. Will, I’m so sorry about everything. I’m leaving for Vienna around six tomorrow morning, so I’m afraid it will be a few more days before we can talk this out in person. Call me if you want so I can grovel and tell you how much I love you. I’ll be back on Wednesday. I hope you’ll be there when I arrive home. If I’ve thrown away what we have together, I will never forgive myself.

  I chew on my lip, my head swirling with everything that’s happened since we left the Caribbean. Honestly, nothing has gone right between us since we got off that plane. It’s like the entire world is trying to pull us apart.

  As hurt as I am, I also don’t know if it’s one hundred percent her fault. Arthur pretty much talked her into believing the worst of me, and since he’s been her biggest influence her entire life and I’ve only known her for five months, it’s not a difficult leap for her to trust him over me. The problem is, the longer I’m gone, the more his voice will fill her head. Not to mention the fact that I did take off the first chance I got, I didn’t come back when I said I would, and I have left her to deal with the fallout from the show.

  “There he is,” Kenneth calls from across the patio.

  “Shit,” I mutter before turning and doing my best to look happy to see him. Honestly, I have no desire to be around anyone who was witness to my budding dysfunctional relationship.

  He takes a seat at my table and stretches out his legs, eyeing the bottles of Phuket Lager lined up in front of me. “Party for one?”

  “More like an evening of self-reflection.”

  Is there any chance he’ll take the hint? I don’t think so either.

  “Women, eh?” he says, flagging down the waitress, pointing at my drink and holding up four fingers.

  “Nah, she’s not like that,” I say. “Anyone would crumble under the pressure.”

  “That’s very charitable of you.”

  “Where’s Lara?” I ask, hoping to steer the conversation away from my girlfriend to his.

  “Back at the room. Her mum called. They’ll be yakking for a good hour.”

  I nod as though I have the first clue what it’s like to take a call from your mum or have a girlfriend who has a mum, for that matter.

  “Listen, I’ve got something that might cheer you up,” he says with a grin. “I talked to my head of development, and he thinks it’s possible to move up production on the outdoor gear line. So, rather than heading back to Valcourt for a battle royale, what would you say to spending the next few weeks with our design team in London?”

  The waitress brings the beers, and he waits while she sets them on the table. I thank her while he has a swig. “Our branding department is already working on the perfect logo for you. I told the team about your idea for making the world’s lightest backpack, and they loved it. And I don’t want you to feel like this is just something you’re stuck slapping your name on. I want you to be excited, Will. You pick the colours, you pick the fabrics. If we work fast, we could be ready to roll out next spring.”

  He leans back and smiles at me before tipping his bottle back again.

  I open my mouth, then close it, not sure whether to be thrilled or filled with dread. I am definitely at a crossroads with Arabella, and the decision I make at this moment will most certainly determine so much more than my financial status. “Well, Kenneth, that is an incredible offer.”

  “It’s the offer of a lifetime,” he says, narrowing his eyes a little. “But I can tell by your expression that you’re preoccupied by that business this afternoon. Don’t worry about it, okay? The entire crew is under strict orders not to say a word to anyone. No one will be airing your dirty laundry, or they’ll answer to me.”

  My face burns with humiliation. “I appreciate that.”

  “I mean, obviously there’s going to be a bit of attention coming your way when the world finds out you two broke up, but you know what they say about publicity…”

  “Right, the thing is, we’re not going to break up,” I say. “At least I hope not. She was wrong about what happened, but she’s right that I did abandon her at a bad time, which doesn’t exactly make me good boyfriend material.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Seriously, mate?”

  “I know it sounded bad, and it was, but she’s a wonderful person when her life isn’t falling apart.”

  He sets his beer down. “Will, I’m a few years older than you, and I’ve been through my share of relationships with high-maintenance women. They’re all wonderful people when things are going their way, but the thing is, that can’t always be the case. Trust me, you’ll be much better off with someone who doesn’t expect quite so much. You don’t have to put up with shit from anyone—not with how rich and famous you’re about to become.”

  “Kenneth, as much as I appreciate your advice, trust me when I say Arabella is worth the trouble. Not that there’s trouble usually. Can we just say it’s a very stressful time for both of us and leave it at that?”

  “Suit yourself, but I was serious earlier about supermodels. I don’t know whether it’s all the starving they do or what, but generally speaking, they’re surprisingly low-maintenance. Lara has dozens of friends in the industry who I’m sure would be thrilled to date a guy like you.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “No, you won’t,” he says with a sly grin. “You’re going to stay with this woman no matter what. I can tell.”

  “Yes, I am,” I say with a small smile.

  “How about this, then? Let’s go to London tomorrow to meet with the team. Give her a few weeks to worry. We get started on the product line, and when you get back, she knows she can’t treat you like that again.”

  I consider his words, wishing like hell that this offer wasn’t coming at this exact moment in my life. My gut hardens. “You have no idea how badly I want to say yes right now.”

  “Then do,” he answers. “It would be the smartest decision you’ll ever make.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “I know it would, but the thing
is, I can’t keep breaking promises to her, especially when I’m a big part of the reason her whole world is falling apart. But if your team could give me a bit of time, I’ll get to London as soon as possible.”

  He breathes out hard through his nose and I know he’s not happy. “When? A day? Two days?”

  I almost say yes, but deep down, I know a couple of days won’t cut it—not when things aren’t going to get easier for her until after the final episode of the show. “Realistically, it would be more like a few weeks, possibly a month. She and I promised each other to stick together while the show airs, so I can’t very well say, ‘good luck with that, see you when it’s over.’”

  “Seriously?” he asks, looking quite annoyed. “I’m offering you the chance to have your name on the world’s best outdoor gear and you want to hold up my entire team so you can go hold your girlfriend’s hand for a month? I’m about to make you wildly rich, Will—beyond what you ever dreamed. All you have to do is say yes.”

  This is it—a chance for steady money for the first time in my life, which would make me far more acceptable in the eyes of Arabella’s family, and in my own, for that matter. I could give her all the things—stability, an amazing lifestyle, freedom, a home worthy of her. But if I say yes, at this moment, when things are falling apart between us, there’s almost no chance of sharing any of it with her.

  I blow out a long puff of air and rub one hand over my scruffy chin. “Believe me, Kenneth, I know this is the greatest offer I’ll likely ever get and that turning it down is one of those things I will quite possibly look back on and deeply regret, but the thing is, all the money in the world is worth nothing if I don’t have her to share it with.”

  Kenneth stares at me for a moment, then says, “I’m serious, Will. I’m not going to make this offer twice. I have a corporation to run, and if you don’t want in, I’ve got to move on.”

  My gut flips and my heart drops down to my knees. “No, I want in, believe me. And I get that you’re the kind of guy who moves fast. In fact, I admire you for that.” Don’t say it. Don’t turn him down. Take the money. “But as grateful as I am for the opportunity, I can’t say yes. Not right now.”