“Very funny.” She stuck out her tongue at me. “This is me being grown-up and responsible, and all I get for my trouble is mocking. You invited me for lunch, and here I am. Let’s just enjoy the fact that I’ve arrived fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, because we both know it’s not likely to happen again any time soon.”
“I’m very happy to see you.” I rose and came around my desk, kissing her on both cheeks. “I’ve ordered in food for us, so I hope you’re in the mood for Thai.”
“Always and ever.” Daisy dropped her handbag into a chair and wandered toward my windows, gazing out on the city. “Oh, I met your new security officer on the way in here. He’s not hard to look at, is he?”
I smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t know. I only have eyes for your brother.”
“Gag.” Daisy pretended to wretch. “But I’d want to scratch your eyes out if you said anything else, so I guess it’s all right.”
“I’d offer to introduce you, but he’s got a girlfriend.” I shrugged. “Sorry, Dais.”
“Not that it would be allowed, anyway.” Her lips tightened for a moment, and her eyes went bleak for the merest blip of time. And then the shadow passed, and she was all sunshine again. “Well, tell me what’s been going on. What did I miss while I was in Scandinavia?”
Daisy had been representing her grandmother at a series of visits to nations in northern Europe for the past two weeks. It was the most ambitious tour she’d done to date, and I knew the family was enormously proud of how well she’d conducted herself and the positive press coverage both in the UK and abroad.
“Not much.” I sat down on the small loveseat and kicked off my shoes, tucking my feet under me. “I’ve been either working here or for the family or at the gardens.” I nibbled on the corner of my lip. “I missed you. Between you and Nicky being gone, it’s been very lonely.”
“Poor Ky. I’m sorry.” She dropped to the loveseat with me and wrapped me in a quick, tight hug. “Why haven’t you gone with Nicky? It’s stupid for you to be left at home on your own.”
“I couldn’t agree more, but Nicky says these trips were set up long ago, and there isn’t any easy way to add me to them.”
“Bullshit.” Daisy was eloquent but blunt. “It happens all the time. There’s not one reason you shouldn’t be with him.”
My heart sank. What Daisy was telling me wasn’t exactly breaking news—I’d had a hunch this was the case—but hearing her say it forced me to recognize the truth. It wasn’t that I couldn’t go with Nicky—it was that he didn’t want me.
“Daisy,” I whispered, not trusting my voice to stay steady. “Why doesn’t he want me to go with him? You can tell me the truth. Am I an embarrassment to the family? Is that why I’m left at home?”
“Now that is even more bullshit.” Daisy gave my shoulder a little shake. “You know better than that, Ky, or I hope you do. Nicky loves you beyond reason, and he’d never stand for cutting you out of your royal duties. None of the family is embarrassed by you. How could we be? You get out there and do your job, just as we all do. You smile at the cameras and you keep on going, no matter what. You’re kind, you’re amusing, and best of all to the English mind, you’re humble about it. My parents think you’re grand. And the Queen adores you, which means that what anyone else might think doesn’t matter at all.”
“Fine.” I sniffed. “Then explain to me why my husband doesn’t even invite me on his trips away from home. Explain why he’s been so distant lately. Even when he’s home, even when he’s acting as though everything is wonderful, I can tell that there’s something on his mind. Something pulling him away from me. If it’s not that he regrets marrying me, then what is it?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Daisy lifted one shoulder and looked apologetic. “But I can tell you this. It’s important to remember that as much as we are a family, we are also a political entity—not in the terms of taking sides or voicing our opinions in debates in the government, but in that the Queen is the head of the government, and we represent the United Kingdom on the world stage. That means that sometimes, there are pressures or constraints that we might not always understand in the present.” She wrinkled her nose. “At least, that’s the speech my father gave me when I didn’t get all the answers I wanted growing up.”
“So you’re saying . . .” I frowned, considering Daisy’s words. “You mean there might be something going on that Nicky isn’t free to tell me?”
“I don’t know, Ky.” She laid her hand over mine. “I mean, I really don’t know. No one’s told me anything that I’m holding back from you.” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “Not that they would. They all still see me as a child who can’t keep a secret.”
I slumped back into the corner of the small sofa, my mind whirring. “Daisy, do you think—is it possible that what happened in Scotland last month—you know, with the protesters—could that have rattled Nicky so much that he’s worried about my safety?”
She brightened. “That sounds like a Nicky thing to do. If he was shaken up, he might be worried that you’re at risk, too.”
“And of course, he wouldn’t think of telling me this, because he’s trying to protect me from the worry, too.” I rolled my eyes. “Your brother is slightly nuts sometimes.”
“As if that’s a surprise to me.” Daisy laughed. “But I will admit that when it comes to you, he’s slightly more nuts, so I can see this happening. In his quest to keep you from fretting over his safety, he’s causing you to worry about something else altogether.” She bared her teeth. “Men.”
“Now the question is—” I began just as there was a knock at my office door, and a man’s head poked inside, scanning the room until he found me. I recognized him as a newer employee of Honey Bee, one whom I’d only met a few times. “Oh, hello, what can I do for you?”
“Ah,” the man stammered. “Yes. I’m Rick Lester, from the production team. Sorry, Ms—um, that is, Kyra. Uh, ma’am. Didn’t know you had company. That you were busy, I mean.” His eyes darted to Daisy and then back to me again. I’d asked everyone at Honey Bee to continue calling me by my first name, as it felt ridiculous to ask them to use the Your Royal Highness or ma’am all the time. But it still threw some people, I’d discovered.
“It’s all right, we’re just waiting for our lunch to arrive.” I beckoned him to come in. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to give you the information about the new supplier I mentioned at the last meeting.” He stepped closer to me and thrust out a slim manila folder. “I know we’re always looking for new farmers, new venues for finding our fruits and vegetables. I wondered if you and the team might consider this one.”
My forehead wrinkling, I scanned the cover letter. “Has this farm been vetted by the practices team?”
“Ah, not yet, but I think it’s in process.” Rick moved back, edging toward my door. “I’ll just leave that with you, and if you have any questions, you can let me know. Again, sorry to interrupt.”
“Thanks, Rick. I’ll look it over this afternoon and get back to you.”
He executed a move that was somewhere between a nod and bow and hustled out of my office. Daisy giggled.
“I’m not sure if the people here are in awe of you because your grandparents started the company or because you married a prince,” she remarked. “But you have that one ready to do homage.”
“It’s mortifying,” I groaned. “I only want to do my job, and some of the new ones, who didn’t know me before I was the Duchess of Kendal, act as though they expect me to float around on a glittery cloud of fairy dust. Just getting them to speak to me like normal humans is a chore.” I shook my head. “What I was about to ask, before Rick interrupted, was how you think I should confront Nicky about this situation. I’m half-afraid that if I bring it up, he might deny it or tell me I’m imagining things.”
“If you want my advice, for what it’s worth, I think I’d let this ride for a bit.” Daisy leaned forward, stretching her back like a cat in the s
unshine. “Because if we’re wrong and it’s something else entirely, you could be putting Nicky into a more uncomfortable position than he’s in now, stressing him even more.” She tilted her head, the corners of her lips tipping upwards. “Give him some time, Kyra. Trust that he is doing what he thinks is best for you both, and if it turns out that he’s made another major mistake, then you have the fun of getting to see him grovel at your feet, begging your forgiveness.” Her grin was swift and wicked.
I couldn’t help laughing. “What an excellent idea—and what a devious brain you have, Daisy.” I gave her a quick side-hug. “Remind me to stay on your good side.”
“I only use my powers for good,” she informed me loftily. “In the cause of supporting my sisters and punishing wayward brothers . . . and other males who need a good kick in the ass.”
I was about to ask her if she meant anyone specifically, but just at that moment, our food arrived, and by the time we’d dug into our pad se-ew and pad Thai, Daisy had launched into a hilarious story about one of her friend’s weddings.
Our conversation set my mind at ease . . . for now, at least. But I couldn’t escape the sense that something unknown was hanging over our heads—and when it dropped, things just might get messy.
“HELLO, KYRA. DID YOU WANT to see me?”
I glanced up from the papers on my desk. Serena Kessel, who was now the managing partner of the London branch of Honey Bee Juices, stood at my open door, waiting.
“Hey, Serena. Yes, thanks for coming up. I would’ve come to your office, but I was waiting for a response for a question.” I waved her inside. “Have a seat. Oh, and would you close the door, please?”
Frowning, Serena shut the door behind her and glided to the chair on the other side of my desk. I’d learned recently that she’d studied ballet during her youth and had even been part of a premier dance company, which explained the grace and elegance I’d always admired.
“This sounds ominous. Should I be worried?”
I raised one eyebrow. “For yourself? Absolutely not. About the situation I want to talk to you about . . . maybe.”
“What’s going on?” Her spine straight and posture perfect, Serena regarded me curiously. “I wasn’t aware we had a situation.”
Sighing, I lifted a stack of papers. “My grandfather used to say that running a successful business means there will always be a situation of one sort or another. It’s how we handle them and how quickly we address them that determines their effect. This one . . .” I hesitated. “I might be jumping the gun. It’s possible that I’m seeing problems where there are none, and that this is just a simple misunderstanding.” Leaning forward, I handed Serena a page from the print-out I was holding. “How well do you know Rick Lester from the production management team?”
She narrowed her eyes, thinking. “Is he the new one, who’s only recently been hired?”
I nodded. “Six months ago, so he’s not brand-spanking-new, but I’d call him a rookie. That’s what makes me wonder if maybe I’m overreacting.”
“I didn’t oversee his hiring.” Serena scanned the paper. “And this is a memo from him, suggesting a new supplier?”
“It is.” I sat back, stretching my neck. “Everything about it is in order. As a matter of fact, I probably wouldn’t have paid the whole thing much attention, but Rick made a point of bringing it to my attention a couple of weeks ago. It was in the process of being vetted by our practices and compliance folks at that point. If he hadn’t mentioned it to me, this supplier would have gone through the process and likely been turned down, and that would’ve been the end of it. But when I saw the bullet point from Steve’s last status report, noting that the farm wasn’t a good fit, I was curious and reached out to him to find out why.” I passed Serena another piece of paper. “This was the supporting documentation he sent.”
I stayed silent for a few minutes to allow Serena time to read the email from our head of practices and compliance. When her eyes went wide, I sighed. “You see it, then.”
“Wow.” She gave the page a shake, as though it offended her. “On the surface, this farmer appears to be a perfect fit for us. Organic practices, no pesticides, sustainable water and growing procedures . . .”
“Right.” I gave a quick, sharp nod. “On paper, it works. But luckily, we have a stellar practices and compliance team, and they dug a little deeper. It seems that the organic practices haven’t been verified by the necessary organizations, and we don’t have any soil tests or observation reports to be certain that they’re not using poisons.”
“I see that.” Serena laid down the paper and tapped her finger on it. “I’m assuming that when you saw this and put it together with the fact that Rick went out of his way to approach you about the potential supplier, you smelled a rat. So to speak.”
“Exactly.” I paused for a beat, watching Serena’s reaction closely. “It could be a coincidence. It’s possible that he’s just a guy trying to make a name for himself, and he happened to champion the wrong person.”
“Or he knew exactly what he was doing.” She exhaled a long breath and pushed the page away. “What would be his motive? He’d have to know that eventually, we’d learn the truth, and then he’d take a hit for recommending a bad bet. Meanwhile, though, I assume we don’t really have any evidence either way, or you’d be giving me that now.”
“You assume correctly. So far, it’s nothing but a hunch. As for motive—you’ve got me there. I can’t figure it out, which makes me feel foolish for even bringing this up to you.” I drummed my fingers on the desk. “All right. This is what we’re going to do . . . I mean, if you agree,” I amended hastily. Technically, Serena ran this branch, and I was, by title, a representative on site for the board of directions and a consultant on supply and acquisition.
She smiled slightly. “I’m all ears.”
“Okay, then. I suggest that we keep an eye on Rick and make sure that for a couple of months, at least, someone else is looking over everything he does. We don’t want anything to slip through the cracks. If he did this on purpose for some reason, he’ll show his hand. If it was just me being paranoid, we can back off.”
“I agree. We don’t have any concrete reason to let him go at this point. An error in judgement is something that could happen to anyone. He might have brought it up to make himself look good to you, particularly because of, ah, who you are.” She cocked her eyebrow at me. “Could he have a crush on you? Maybe this was his way of getting your attention.”
I shook my head. “First, eww. I don’t think that’s it. I never even really met him, I don’t think, until he came up to show me the proposal. Second, that would be the stupidest way ever to get a woman’s attention.”
“Men aren’t always known for their logic in these matters.” Serena shrugged. “Who can guess what goes through their minds?”
“I’m not going to argue with you there.” I had my own personal man situation to deal with at home, although it certainly wasn’t anything I cared to discuss here. “But let’s stick with hoping for the best—that it was an honest error—while still keeping in mind that it could be something more. And then we’ll move forward from there.”
“I agree.” Serena stood up. “I’ll keep my eye on him. I also have a few people in that department whom I trust, who will let me know is anything unusual seems to be going on. I won’t tell them any details; I’ll just inquire as to how the new hire’s getting on.”
“Wonderful.” I rose to my feet as well. “Thanks for coming in, Serena. I appreciate your insight and your help.”
“Any time.” She turned toward the door, hesitating only briefly to call good night before she left.
It was indeed past time for me to be heading for home. I’d messaged Simon a couple of hours ago to let him know that I was going to be leaving later than I’d expected, so he was likely downstairs, waiting for me to be ready. Bone-deep weariness gripped me. It had been a long day, and ending it with this unpleasant business about an
employee had left me unsettled and cranky.
My security officer seemed to understand that when he saw me in the lobby. A small frown formed a crevice between his eyebrows.
“Long day, ma’am?” he asked as we walked toward the doors.
“Yes, and not for any good reason.” Just as I would never share my concerns about my husband at work, neither would I ever share business issues with anyone inside the Royal Family, no matter how much I might trust that person. It was a tricky balance, living this segmented life, and it wore on me.
It was a testament to how tired I was that I let Simon drive home. We were quiet all the way back to Kensington Palace; I sat in the front seat with my eyes closed, willing away the tension that had gathered at the back of my neck and was threatening to gift me with a killer headache.
Once back at the cottage, I bade Simon a quick good-night and went inside, pathetically grateful to be home.
“There you are.” Nicky came out of the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up and his hair a mess, as though he’d been in a steam bath. “I was beginning to worry.”
“I texted you,” I reminded him as I tossed down my purse and briefcase and collapsed onto the sofa. “I said something had come up, and I was going to be later than I’d expected.”
“I know, but I still worry.” Nicky came around into the sitting room and leaned over the back of the couch, his hands gripping my shoulders as he began a gentle massage. “I still missed you. I’m old-fashioned enough to love when I come home to my wife waiting for me, even if that means she’s just stepped inside a few moments before me.”
“Sorry.” I bowed my head. “As long as you’re back there—and doing a bang-up job, I must say—could you get the base of my neck, too? I feel as though there’s a huge knot there.”
“Got it.” His talented thumbs got to work where I needed him most. “What was going on at Honey Bee? Nothing bad, I hope.”
I grunted, everything from the long afternoon coming back to me. I could pour it all out to my husband, all of my worries about Rick Lester, my gut feeling and how all of it interconnected. But for some reason I didn’t care to examine too closely, I decided not to spill.
The Anti-Cinderella Conquers the World Page 8