“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Keeping me close, he lowered his voice. “Everything all right between you and Aly? We overheard you two…er, arguing.”
“Everything’s fine,” I said. It would be fine. “Just a bit of business we had to take care of, that’s all.”
Kit glanced at Em and Aly. They were jumping up and down and clapping their hands now. Totally oblivious to us.
“If you say so,” he replied.
The butler brought in a bottle of good champagne, and after a toast, we settled back on the sofas.
“So what do you need us to do?” Aly asked. A notebook had somehow materialized on her lap. She uncapped a pen and crossed her legs, waiting for instruction.
Shit. I probably should get this stuff down, too. I dug my mobile out of my pocket and opened a blank page in my notes.
Kit finished his champagne and set the empty glass on the coffee table. “As much as we wish this wedding could be a small, private affair, that’s just not how things work in this family. I’m afraid there’s going to be a good bit of work the two of you must take on. Lots of little things, and some big ones, too.”
“You’ll have to let me plan an engagement party,” Aly said. “Just a little something with friends.”
Kit beamed. “That would be lovely.” He turned to me. “Perhaps you could help Aly with it?”
I dug a hand into my hair. Cleared my throat again. “Of course.”
“And Kit and I would like to have a joint bachelor/bachelorette party,” Emily added. “Imagine how fun that would be—all of us hanging out together, getting to know each others’ friends.”
“Together?” Aly and I replied in horrified unison.
“Why?” she said.
“I don’t get it,” I added.
Kit shrugged, turning to grin at Emily. “We just thought it’d be a cool idea. Our friends live on opposite sides of an ocean. We’d like for them to meet before the wedding, and, well…a joint stag/hen party seemed like just the thing.”
I loved a stag party. I’d gotten quite good at them over the years. I was always leading the charge, last one to bed and the first to start the debauchery all over again the next day.
But what the fuck was I supposed to do with a joint stag and hen party? Having your future wife and her best friend—her very fit best friend—at your stag night went against the laws of nature.
“Please?” Emily said. “We know it’s a lot to ask, but…”
“But it’s what you want. So we’ll make it happen.” Aly looked at me from the corner of her eye. “I’m sure we’ll, uh, think of something.”
Kit clapped his hands together. “Brilliant.”
No, I wanted to say. This was not brilliant at all. It was bullshit. But if this was what my brother wanted, then I’d make sure it’s what he’d get. His happiness was important to me. And I was determined to turn a new leaf and help out more. I supposed this was as good a starting place as any.
Tucking my mobile back into my pocket, I knocked back the rest of my champagne and asked for another. My eyes trailed over Aly’s legs as she crossed them again.
God damn it. This was going to be a long six months.
Chapter Three
Aly
On my way out later that night, Emily pulled me aside.
I could tell by the mixture of curiosity and disbelief in her eyes that she was going to ask me about Rob. Clearly she’d overheard us talking about—well, us earlier. How we’d been hooking up.
My face burned.
“I know what you’re going to say.” I held up my hand. “Let me stop you right there. Hooking up with Rob was an accident. I’m not proud of it. But it’s over now, so you have nothing to worry about.”
Em arched an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
“I’m sure.”
“I have to admit I’m surprised,” she said. “Never saw the two of you…you know. How long have you guys been hooking up?”
I rolled my lips between my teeth. “Uh. Five months? Mabye six?” I said, scratching the back of my head.
Em’s other eyebrow joined its partner at the top of her forehead. “Wow. That’s a long time, Aly. I had no idea.”
“That was kind of the point. I didn’t tell anyone, for obvious reasons. But now it’s over, and that’s all that matters. I promise it won’t affect the wedding.”
“I know,” Em said, nodding. “You’re a pro at these things. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay working with him for another six months. Rob’s a lot to handle.”
If only Em knew just how much of him there was to handle. So very, very much.
My face burned hotter.
“We’ll be fine,” I said with forced cheerfulness. “Seriously, you don’t need to worry. I’ve got it covered.”
She looked at me for another beat. Then she pulled me into a tight hug.
“Okay,” she said. “But promise me you’ll say something if it gets to be too much?”
I nodded. “I promise.”
I spent some quality time on Pinterest later that night putting together a mood board for the engagement party. My passion for design wasn’t confined to just interiors. I loved fashion, art, and parties, too. Basically show me anything pretty, and I was in.
Em’s favorite color was green. Her style was best described as classic with a twist. So I’d used that as inspiration for my board. Lots of greenery with some greys mixed in. A garden theme would be tough to pull off this time of year. But maybe we could incorporate some autumnal foliage, and throw in some tall taper candles—yes!—to set the mood. And I loved Kit’s family’s crest. If I got his permission, I wondered if I could have it embossed on some coasters and napkins, or even a party favor for their guests…
Needless to say, the Pinterest hole I ended up falling down was a pretty damn big one.
When I finally emerged, bleary eyed but breathless with excitement, I shot off an email to Rob. I figured it was best to get a head start. Especially considering it took him weeks to respond to anything I ever sent him.
Well. Anything except a booty call text. And I was so done with those.
Honestly, I kinda just wanted to get him out of the way so I could plan the party myself. I took weddings seriously. I had a soft spot for the romance of it all. Plus, I had been in approximately four hundred weddings (only a slight exaggeration) over the past few years as, one by one, my friends had found their happily forevers. I was a pro. And I was determined to apply everything I’d learned to make Emily’s experience as special and lovely as possible.
Which meant keeping Rob out of it. He’d dropped the ball on half the tasks he’d been assigned for the School For the Arts. I imagined he’d pull the same stunt with an engagement party.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Kit And Emily’s Engagement Party
Rob—Since you’re a total slacker and clearly not interested in the engagement party, I’ll take the lead. Just shoot me dates that work for you in October/November. I’ll firm it up with Kit and Em and send out invites. Re: the venue, I have a client who has a manor house in Hertfordshire. It would be ideal for the party. I’ll reach out and ask if she’ll let us use it. She only lives there part time, so I think it should work out.
Goes without saying Em means a lot to me. So does Kit. I want this party to be perfect. Don’t you dare ruin it.
A
I left my laptop on my bed while I got into my pajamas and made some chamomile tea. I nearly spit it out when, climbing back into bed, I saw I had a reply. From Rob. Five minutes after I’d sent him the email.
It had to be a misfire. Had to be. Or at the very least an auto-reply. Something like, I am currently out of the office getting shitfaced at the pub. I will respond to emails when I am back at my desk sometime next year.
Only it wasn’t either of those things.
To: [email protected]
&nb
sp; From: [email protected]
Re: Kit And Emily’s Engagement Party
FROM THE DESK OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE ROBERT
Aly—I may have been a slacker at the foundation. But I won’t be for this wedding. Kit and Em mean a lot to me, too. So what can I do for the party? Food? Drinks? DJ? You’ve got to let me help.
Just like you’ve got to let me know when this “real deal” fellow of yours falls short (pun intended). He will. I know the type.
Not to toot my own horn (pun most definitely intended), but I don’t think the “meetings” we had in my car and at the pub will be so easy to forget. You certainly seemed to enjoy them. I promise I won’t ruin this party. But I may have ruined you for other blokes. Probably should be sorry about that. I’m not.
BTW, as ridiculous as this stag/hen thing is they want to do, we can make it work. I have some ideas.
Rob
PS—you can’t really be into this bloke, right?
For several beats I just stared at the email. I mean. What the hell? I had no idea what to think. He was an asshole. But he was trying to be helpful, too. The dissonance made my head hurt.
And what was that bit about my ‘really being into my bloke’ at the end there? Rob had never asked about my personal life. Ever. As a matter of fact, he’d never asked me about much of anything. When we were together, we were either working or fucking. We did not chat. We definitely didn’t get personal.
But then tonight, he’d kind of balked at the idea of Philip. Now he was basically telling me Philip would be disappointing in bed because Rob had “ruined me” for other men.
Dick.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: Re: Kit And Emily’s Engagement Party
Rob—You seriously think I’d let you help with this party after you send me an email like that? Thanks but no thanks. Just confirm the damn date.
My relationship with Philip is none of your business. But I will say—he is a long ways ahead of you in pretty much every aspect (pun intended). And all you need to know about my “type” is that you are NOT IT. So take your horn and shove it. Trust me, I’ve already forgotten our “meetings”.
Agreed re: the ridiculousness of this bachelor/bachelorette they want to have. Don’t get it. But I’m sure I’ll think of something.
A
PS—Ever consider I might have ruined you for other girls? Can’t imagine there are many of us out there who can muster multiple orgasms in a bathroom stall.
I was getting ready to shut my laptop when his reply popped up. He’d replied even faster this time around.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Meet me
Funny how I’m the boss in the backseat. But you are in the office. I like this arrangement.
Clearly I can’t convince you over email to let me do my part. So meet me for lunch. I will make it worth your while (pun not intended).
Rob
PS—You’re cute. We both know I’m the one to thank for those orgasms. You didn’t “muster” them. I gave them to you. Every single one. I bet I could make you come in the middle of the bloody apocalypse. You’d thank me, too.
This time I legitimately stared at my screen. Was he for real? I wished I could reach through my computer and strangle him. He was such an ass.
That being said, I did have to think about Kit and Emily above all else. It was obvious Kit wanted Rob to be involved in the party. Probably a dick move if I totally cut him out of it. Only what he deserved, sure. He was being an ass. But I wouldn’t stoop to his level.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: Meet me
Of course you like this arrangement. I do all the work while you get to do whatever it is princes do all day. I like to be the boss. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. Not that you’d know anything about that.
I will meet you for lunch, but I make no promises. I am booked solid all week. I do have an hour next Monday from 12-1.
I’m going to bed. LMK if Monday works.
A
PS—Even if the apocalypse had already happened and we were the only two people left on Earth, I would still move back to what was left of the North American continent to get away from you. I can come on my own, thank you very much.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: re: Meet me
I just sent you a calendar alert for our meeting on Monday. Please don’t move to the North American continent until then, okay?
I know you work hard. I’m sort of in awe of your dedication. Your talent, too.
You’re talented in design. I’m talented in making you come. I really liked the little set up we had going.
See you Monday.
Rob
PS—I know you can come on your own. But don’t pretend those orgasms are as good as the ones you have when you’re with me.
Rob
I stayed up for another hour waiting for Aly’s reply. But it didn’t come.
I felt a pang of disappointment. Aly was being Aly—brutally honest. Witty as hell. She held no punches. Very few people ever went toe to toe with me like this. It was making me hard.
God I wished I could text her right now. Invite her for another go in the backseat of my car. We’d been so good at that.
So bloody good.
Chapter Four
Aly
Monday
It was a chilly day, but that didn’t stop me from slowing down to admire the dresses in a shop window on the corner of Sloan Square. It was Emilia Wickstead’s flagship store, a favorite of celebrities and well-heeled Londoners. The dresses were done in shades of sherbet—pale apricot, lavender, coconut—and beautifully tailored. Worthy of a princess. Of a woman who was living out her dreams.
Who was living her very own fairy tale.
My chest tightened. The cold air wasn’t helping. But I knew it was longing that had me breathless. I wasn’t jealous of Emily finding her forever guy, or that she was marrying a legitimate prince. But I did envy the fact that she was becoming the woman she’d always dreamed she’d be. She was doing fantastic work alongside Kit at The Prince’s Foundation. Work she found fulfilling, and that she was respected for. She was with a man who loved her for who she was. There was a certainty about her path—her future—that I very much wanted for myself.
I wanted to know where I was headed, too. Where I’d be setting down roots. Who I was going to be with.
I hated to be such a cliché. You know, the single woman who turns thirty and starts to panic. But it was hard not to feel like I was being left in the dust. My friends were getting married and having babies. They were moving on and disappearing into their new lives. It seemed like everyone was busy living out their happily-ever-afters, while I was busy clearing out my inbox and scrolling through weirdos on dating apps.
I liked my life, don’t get me wrong. I liked my job. I’d even go so far as to say I loved it. But I was lonely. And even though there were a lot of other great things happening right now, sometimes that loneliness was all I could think about.
My phone vibrated in my bag. I dug it out and smiled when I saw a text from Philip.
Looking forward to tonight. This place is top notch, always bring clients there. Hope you’ll like it.
We had a date at a fancy steakhouse. It was our second in one week. Things were progressing nicely with him. He was charming. Successful. Sure, the sparks weren’t flying quite yet. But he called when he said he would, and always showed up on time. Pretty much the opposite of all the other guys I’d dated in the past. It was nice, not having to guess what his intentions were, or make excuses for him.
Can’t wait, I texted back. Love trying new places. How’s your day going?
“Look at you, smiling before I’ve even arrived
. I knew you’d missed me.”
I looked up at the sound of a familiar voice. My smile contracted when I saw Rob striding towards me, his security detail a few steps behind. His hands were in the pockets of his navy double-breasted coat. It was cut to perfection, accentuating his height and the breadth of his shoulders. His blue eyes, playfully narrowed on me, glowed in gloom of the grey afternoon. He was wearing that cocky smirk of his and just a whisper of scruff.
Ignoring the jolt of warmth in my blood, I dropped my phone in my bag.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” I nodded at the restaurant at the end of the block. “Shall we? I only have an hour.”
“You’re the boss.” His eyes latched onto mine. The warmth inside my skin pulsed with a vengeance. “Let’s get to it.”
He dismissed his detail, telling them to grab some lunch. They protested. But after some sweet talk, they finally gave in and left.
He held the restaurant door open for me, and we were swiftly ushered to a quiet table in a corner. I quirked a brow when he ordered a water with lemon.
Royal Rebel: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Flings With Kings) Page 3