~The End~
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Turn the page for a sneak peek at Throne for a Loop, book 6 in the It’s Reigning Men series.
THRONE FOR A LOOP
By Jenny Gardiner
Chapter One
Isabella Annelisa Violetta Stefania was perfectly suited to be the Princess Royal of Monaforte because she liked nothing better than a good party. And who spends more time celebrating at festive occasions than royalty, for whom life always seems to be one big fête?
So it was kismet when her dear friend Clementine sort of stumbled into an event-planning business: Isabella, always up for helping others, wanted to support her friend’s enterprising spirit, plus, she was in the mood to celebrate her upcoming birthday. No doubt someone would have planned some sort of gathering for the event without enlisting her friend’s help, but it seemed like more of an adventure to put it all in Clementine’s capable hands and see what sort of bash she cultivated with only the seeds of an idea from Isabella.
The two of them hatched the plan over drinks while warming by a fireplace at their favorite restaurant on a bitterly cold January evening. The holidays had concluded and it seemed a good time to start thinking of something else they could do to stave off the winter funk that always seemed to settle in after the holidays concluded.
“Your birthday falls on the weekend that everyone will be celebrating Valentine’ Day,” Clementine said. “So it seems obvious to go with the whole red hearts and valentines theme. But hmmm, let’s think how we could vary this so it’s not too clichéd.”
“Not queen of hearts,” Isabella said, tapping her pointer finger against her face in thought. “Because I’m not the queen. Mother wouldn’t appreciate that.”
“Would princess of hearts be weird?”
Her friend scrunched her nose. “Yeah, sorta.”
“How about we shun the whole annoyingly predictable-slash-hackneyed Valentine trope and go for a lonely hearts theme.”
Isabella knit her brow and looked at her friend in disbelief. “Really? You’re suggesting my birthday party be a loser-girl bash? Because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s not like I have a boyfriend anyhow. Such a theme will only reinforce the status quo in everyone’s eyes.”
“Yeah but that’s just because you scare men off.”
Her friend’s eyes popped wide open. “What?”
“Well, not you, personally, but your position. Your status. I mean being princess can be a little off-putting, amiright?”
“Who knew what a curse it could be to be the chosen one,” Isabella said with a sigh, her tongue planted firmly in cheek as she feigned checking out her nails with an air of faux boredom. “Me, the only girl in the royal brood. Though with my brothers, well, geeze, they don’t even go looking for anyone and women drop at their feet. Yet I practically have to pay someone to be my escort. Except for those loser social-climbing men who I have absolutely no interest in being near, let alone date.”
“Simon Baroni ringing a bell?” Clem said with a slight cackle.
“Ugh, don’t even bring up his name. Acting as if I’d be lucky to carry his spawn. Can you imagine someone telling you they have ‘superior seed’ with a straight face?” She let out a shudder.
“Sounds like he should go to the farm co-op with that information.”
They both laughed out loud as the waiter brought them more drinks.
It was funny to even have such a conversation about Isabella having a hard time in the dating department. Even on a dreary winter night, she was breathtakingly beautiful and stylishly dressed, with thigh-high stiletto black leather boots, a black leather mini and her favorite black biker jacket, with a color scarf draped around her neck. All this, paired with long dark hair that framed her beautiful heart-shaped face and sparkling blue eyes, she was a force to reckon with.
“Honestly, Clem, I just don’t even care any more,” Bella said. “If someone’s not interested in me for me, well, to hell with them. I’ve got plenty of things to fill my days without having to worry about some annoying man trying to make a play at the family riches.”
“So maybe that’s all the more a reason to have it be a ‘lonely hearts club’ theme. Like a big joke.”
Isabella shook her head. “No way,” she said. “We know it would be done in jest but others wouldn’t and can you imagine how that would come across? Maybe instead we could do some sort of play on the princess thing, maybe a ‘Fairytales will come true’ theme. Come as your favorite princess or something like that.”
“Ooooh, I like that,” Clem said. “Maybe someone will come dressed as you!”
“Better still if it’s a man in drag,” Isabella said. “Now that I would totally love.”
“No one would have the audacity to do that. Would they?”
Bella shrugged. “I doubt it but if someone did, I would crown them princess for the day and make sure they all got a first cut of the cake.” Her eyes lit up. “You will have cake, won’t you?”
“Of course. What’s a birthday party without cake?”
“Lots and lots of it, please. I don’t want to run low on cake.”
“Rest assured, there will be cake for the masses,” Clem said. “We will let them eat cake. All of them.”
“I suppose ‘Let them Eat Cake’ is a bad theme to use?”
Clem shook her head. “Pretty sure not enough time has elapsed in the history of Europe for that to go over without offending people.”
“Damn,” Isabella said. “I sort of liked the irony of that one.”
“You can feel free to dress like Marie Antoinette and go around spouting that to people all night long if you’d like.”
“So instead of a queen of hearts, theme, we go with heartless queen,” she said with a laugh. “I sort of like that. Could be rather amusing. Shame I hate hoop skirts.”
“Is that what Marie wore?”
“God knows. Something very flouncy and yet ridiculously tight in the bodice. I am so lucky I wasn’t a princess in the time of corsets or I’d have been a dead princess.”
“Yeah. Something to be said for Lycra.” Clem gave a thumbs up gesture.
“So who are you going to have cater this shindig?”
“Shindig? You think this is some farmgirl hoedown?” Clem said with a smile. “I was thinking we’d try DaVinci’s. The old man retired and sold the business to some hottie chef who did a stint at Le Cordon Bleu and apprenticed for a few years at a famous patisserie in Paris.”
“In that case we’ll definitely have some good cake.”
“Did I promise you the best cake around?”
“Pretty sure I’ve got you signed with blood on that vow.”
“Just you wait,” Clem said. “It will be the best cake ever. You have my word on it.”
Chapter Two
Sawyer Patterson was exhausted. He’d been working round the clock for weeks, first with the onslaught of catering jobs and special orders over the December holidays. And now with the referrals he got from his highly successful first season as new owner of DaVinci’s, a bakery and catering business that had been passed down through the DaVinci family for over a hundred years. Old man DaVinci ran out of heirs to perpetuate the family ties, so he had no choice but to sell the business. But got to at least keep his name over the shop. Sawyer could’ve cared less whether his name was hanging on the storefront. He just wanted to make sure it was his quality products that went out the door.
And he was thrilled to have his shop located i
n the historic district of Porto Castello, what with the charming timbered Alpine farmhouse style structures, complete with gingerbread wood tracery, and spectacular overflowing flower boxes. It was something out of a postcard of a quintessential European town. All with a view to the Mediterranean from the front bay windows and the Alps out back. Sawyer was in heaven here in Monaforte. After stumbling around in the dark trying to figure himself out for so long, he’d finally made it, and he was damn sure not going to let anything jeopardize that.
The bell above the front door jangled and a beautiful woman with straight blonde hair and mesmerizing cerulean blue eyes approached the counter.
“Oh, my God, these pastries look divine,” she said eyeing the case filled with delicacies made from puff pastry, phyllo dough, marzipan and spun sugar. She reached for some samples on top of the case and popped a piece in her mouth. Her eyes rolling back in her head said it all. That and the groan.
“You like?” he said, smiling at her reaction.
She could only moan.
“Kouign amann. It’s a French pastry from Brittany. A little slice of heaven, n’est-ce pas?”
“Heaven isn’t generous enough,” she said. “I could just dive into that thing and curl up for all eternity.”
“Would be mighty sticky,” he said with a laugh.
“Good point,” she said. “Sorry, I got distracted. I’m actually here because I need you to cater my girlfriend’s birthday party.”
“Sounds like fun,” he said. “A big event?”
She nodded. “Oh yeah. Isabella doesn’t do anything small. It’ll be the place to be in Porto Castello.”
“Then you’ve found your man,” Sawyer said. “I am at your disposal, happy to do whatever it takes to make the night a huge success.”
Clementine proceeded to tell Sawyer about the princess’s “fairy tales do come true” theme and they went over the menu for passed hors d’oeurves.
“And the cake,” she said. “For some reason Isabella is all fixated on having a great cake. And lots of it. I’ll leave it in your capable hands to come up with the perfect dessert.”
Sawyer smiled. “I’ve made a few cakes in my day. Pretty sure I can please your friend.”
~*~
Sawyer felt somewhat conflicted about this event. As a British expat and the son of fervent anti-royalists, he didn’t grow up having particularly warm feelings about royalty. According to his mum, they were a drain on the system, sucking away funds that could go toward music education in the schools or housing the poor. If he heard once he heard a hundred times his father grumbling when he saw the Queen on the telly waving her beauty pageant wave with one of those damned pastel-colored pocketbooks dangling from her wrist. “Bloody hell,” he’d say with a growl. “Those damned people are the worst of them on the public dole. Why don’t you give me some of those riches you’ve got holed up in the Tower of London. And while you’re at it why don’t the bleedin’ bobbies haul them off to the Tower for sucking at the teat of our bloody taxes for far too long.” Or something to that effect.
But this...well, this job meant he’d be on the receiving end of royal largesse, in a way, so how could he balk at it? He stood to make a pretty penny with this catering gig, so he knew he had to set aside his parentally-imposed biases and play nice. He would make the princess her perfect cake and afterward he’d happily cart off the cash in a wheelbarrow if need be, even if he did sort of think royalty didn’t necessarily deserve to be, well, royal.
~*~
“We’ve got several big events in the next few days,” Sawyer told his staff as they prepped for yet another crazy busy holiday weekend. “I’m feeling a little swamped with all of the Valentine’s Day orders, plus we have the big birthday soirée for the princess. I know I can count on you to make this happen.”
“Chef, we just got this order in for a special cake for a divorce party that’s also being held Saturday night at the same time as the princess’ party,” Louie Petard, a long-time cook at DaVinci’s, said.
“Divorce party?” Sawyer said, curious.
Louie handed him the order form. “Guess she’s not too happy with her ex. Celebrating getting rid of the ol’ ball and chain.”
Sawyer’s eyes squinted as he scanned the order. “’Good Riddance to the Big Dick, Denise,’” he said with a chuckle. “Guess that says it all. Not your typical Valentine message.”
“Yeah and they lady who ordered it—”
Sawyer held up his hand to stop him. “Honestly do me a favor and you take charge of this one,” he said. “I’m sure whatever they need you’ll be able to provide for them.”
Louie threw Sawyer a sidelong glance that almost looked like a glare. But Sawyer couldn’t imagine there was any reason he’d be mad at him.
“Okay, folks, let’s get to work,” Sawyer said with a clap.
“Chef, I’m going to need the truck to deliver this cake to the divorce party,” Louie said. “You want me to take care of delivering both cakes then?”
Sawyer rubbed his stubbled chin in thought. “Yeah, sure. But the birthday cake needs to be kept under wraps until the big reveal Saturday night so be sure they don’t open it prematurely. We’ll do the fabric screen around it and keep the lid on until the last minute.”
“Yeah sure,” Louie said. “I’ve got your back.”
Sawyer smiled, relieved that he had such a competent staff that he knew would get the job done.
~*~
Throne for a Loop
Coming March 8, 2016
About the Author
Jenny Gardiner is the author of #1 Kindle Bestseller Slim to None and the award-winning novel Sleeping with Ward Cleaver. Her latest works are the It’s Reigning Men series, featuring Something in the Heir; Heir Today Gone Tomorrow; Bad to the Throne; Love is in the Heir; Shame of Thrones; and the upcoming Throne for a Loop. She also published the memoir Winging It: A Memoir of Caring for a Vengeful Parrot Who's Determined to Kill Me, now re-titled Bite Me: a Parrot, a Family and a Whole Lot of Flesh Wounds; the novels Anywhere but Here; Where the Heart Is; the essay collection Naked Man on Main Street, and Accidentally on Purpose and Compromising Positions (writing as Erin Delany); and is a contributor to the humorous dog anthology I'm Not the Biggest Bitch in This Relationship.
Her work has been found in Ladies Home Journal, the Washington Post, Marie-Claire.com, and on NPR’s Day to Day. She was also a columnist for Charlottesville’s Daily Progress for over a decade, and is the Volunteer Coordinator for the Virginia Film Festival.
She has worked as a professional photographer, an orthodontic assistant (learning quite readily that she was not cut out for a career in polyester), a waitress (probably her highest-paying job), a TV reporter, a pre-obituary writer, as well as a publicist to a United States Senator (where she first learned to write fiction). She's photographed Prince Charles (and her assistant husband got him to chuckle!), Elizabeth Taylor, and the president of Uganda. She and her family and menagerie of pets now live a less exotic life in Virginia.
Visit Jenny at her website and sign up for her newsletter, her blog, or find her on Facebook and Twitter. And every blue moon she’ll post adorable pictures of her pets on Instagram as @thejennygardiner.
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Also by Jenny Gardiner
Confessions of a Chick Magnet
Skirt Chaser (Coming Soon)
Falling for Mr. Wrong
Falling for Mr. Wrong
Falling for Mr. Maybe
Falling for Mr. No Way In Hell
Falling for Mr. Sometimes
Falling for Mr. Right
It's Reigning Men
Something in the Heir
Heir Today, Gone T
omorrow
Bad to the Throne
Love is in the Heir
Shame of Thrones
Throne for a Loop
It's Getting Hot in Heir
A Court Gesture
It's Reigning Men - Books 1 - 3
The Royal Romeos
Red Hot Romeo
Black Sheep Romeo
Red Carpet Romeo
Blue Collar Romeo
Silver Spoon Romeo
Blue-Blooded Romeo
Big O Romeo
Standalone
Sleeping with Ward Cleaver
Where the Heart Is
Accidentally on Purpose
Compromising Positions
Naked Man on Main Street
Bite Me - A Parrot, a Family, and a Whole Lot of Flesh Wounds
Anywhere but Here
Slim to None
Watch for more at Jenny Gardiner’s site.
Shame of Thrones Page 16