Royally Duched Up: (Duched #3)

by Xavier Neal

  “I’m not. He’s not some random asshole who popped in out of nowhere with obvious ulterior motives. He’s an old friend of Felicity’s. Like I’ve mentioned he’s got an impressive resume and impeccable background. I only want the best for Brie and in this situation, it appears to be him.”

  The words churn my stomach and I viciously bite the inside of my cheek to stop from vomiting.

  Unfortunately, what I said is true. His resume is almost too amazing to believe. It’s definitely too amazing to not have him teach at Hannah’s Hope. The children would be beyond fortunate to have his expertise. As far as his background check, I had Clarence and our publicity team do extensive research, yet the most incriminating thing they could find was him decorating a public garden for Christmas close to an elderly home, which was technically vandalizing property. He’s basically a bloody saint. Patron Saint of Man Sluts.

  “You hate it,” Hugh chuckles and snatches a chip off his plate. “You may be ‘for it’ on paper because you’re trying to think of the bigger picture, but you hate the idea of any other guy having her attention the way you do.”

  God yes.

  “You’re having to share,” he continues to poke. “You hate sharing.”

  Unconsciously, I snap, “Why should I have to bloody share when you can get your own?”

  “Because she’s a person and not a lacrosse stick.”

  The reference to our younger years causes me to roll my eyes.

  I know he’s right. I know it, yet I can’t stop myself from feeling like a toddler who wants nothing more than to stomp his feet, tuck Brie underneath my arm, and bite any time someone comes near. It’s ridiculous, infuriating, and embarrassing above all else. I’m thirty for Christ Sake. I should be past these idiotic, childlike responses.

  My mouth drops to snip again when the sight of Brie coming out of the bookstore steals my attention. With Kage at her side, I watch her bid Guy goodbye and swiftly come strolling our direction. A smile begins to cultivate from simply watching her jean covered hips sway to a beat that only we can hear.

  Maybe when you love someone as much as I do, rationale isn’t always a factor.

  “She’s coming, isn’t she?”

  I give a single nod. “Which means this topic of jealousy is over. Understand?”

  Hugh chuckles again at the same time Brie enters the patio area through the small open gate. She drops her bags beside where she plans to sit and leans down to give me a soft, short kiss. Afterward, she pulls back, and quietly coos, “Missed you…”

  Warmth spreads through my swelling chest, but I playfully retort, “Of course you did.”

  Brie gags and flops down into her seat. “Not as much as I did fries.”

  “Chips.”

  “I’m American. They’re fries.”

  “You’re in Doctenn. They’re chips.”

  Our teasing demeanor causes Hugh to shake his head. “Something tells me you two will always be this way.”

  In unison, we agree, “Probably.”

  I flag over the waiter at the same time I ask, “Did you get everything you needed?”

  “I did. Mainly developmental books about children, but there were a few about the history of Doctenn I picked up as well.” Almost immediately, she bursts with excitement, “Oh! And I got this biography on Da Vinci for casual reading.”

  Hugh grunts, “That’s casual reading?”

  “It is when you’re an art nerd.”

  Brie kicks me under the table. “Enthusiast.”

  “Not hearing a difference, Love.”

  She promptly orders herself a burger with a side of chips and bites, “Now you know how I feel when you start ranting about the difference in plaid and flannel.”

  “It’s important!”

  “It’s not,” she denies with a shake of her head.

  “More important than Da Vinci.”

  “I’m sorry, did flannel or plaid create musical instruments or make medical discoveries before it’s time? Was I asleep in that part of history?”

  Hugh laughs loudly and I shoot him another glare.

  It wasn’t that amusing.

  “Didn’t think so,” Brie mutters under her breath before grabbing my pint to have a sip. “While I’m personally more of a Michelangelo fan, Guy is a diehard Da Vinci supporter, so I figured I’d brush up on him a little. Should give us even more to talk about during lunches and dinners.”

  I stomp down the groan growing in my throat.

  Hooray…

  Hugh lets his eyes flare in the amusement he’s not allowing the rest of his face to engage in.

  “Oh! And Guy was telling me about this really cool art exhibit they have in Stelivanso-”

  “Stellavanzo.”

  “Mmmhmm,” she brushes off my correction, “they have this car themed display up right now where this couple has taken all the parts of a car and used every piece to create something. Sounds so amazing. I wanna go and take pictures to send to Merrick.”

  “I....can take you.”

  She shakes her head immediately. “It’s fine. Guy already agreed we could go together. I know you’ve got a lot going on-”

  “I can make time.”

  “You barely make time to remember to eat.” The humor in her voice barely masks her pain. “It’s really okay. I don’t mind going with him. He likes those sorts of things, like I do.”

  So I’m constantly reminded…

  Thankfully, my wife switches topics. “What were you two talking about before I got here?”

  “Fashion week,” Hugh lies and sits up. “Kellan’s favorite time of the year.”

  Brie gags.

  “Typically, yes, it’s my favorite, but with Hannah’s Hope needing so much of my attention, I haven’t had the opportunity to thoroughly enjoy it.”

  “I was actually just about to ask him if he was planning to join Dana and me at the White Show on Saturday or if he was being forced to attend the annual Valentine’s Day Ball instead.”

  Her face scrunches instantly. “Please tell me we can skip both of those.”

  With a smirk, I reach over and link our fingers. “You are more than welcome to, Love. Father is hosting the annual ball differently this year. Less formal, more friendly. And as for the White Show, I know how much you hate fashion. I won’t drag you to come.”

  She smiles brightly and leans over to reward me with a kiss. “Thank you.”

  After a short peck, Hugh questions, “So you are still coming?”

  I nod. “Yes. The break from work will be splendid. Felicity and I are both looking forward to the Markay collection this year. He’s not typically one to agree with horrendous trends like the stripes that are apparently in season, so I’m quite intrigued to see what his new line will showcase.”

  Brie squeaks, “Felicity is going with you?”

  “She always goes. She loves men’s fashion almost as much as women’s. Unfortunately, her previous schedule hadn’t allowed her to indulge in it as often as she liked, which explains why I hadn’t run into her over the past couple of years.” When her frown deepens, I do my best to hide my amused expression. “Is there a problem?”

  She presses her lips together and shakes her head quickly.

  Liar…Okay so neither of us cares to admit how much we don’t enjoy the other one hanging out with someone of the opposite sex. Truth is my relationship with Felicity is primarily business. Rarely do we talk about anything outside of work and when we do it is about fashion, a subject might I point out the woman I married hates. I am no more interested in her than Brie is Guy.

  “Did you say Dana is going?” Brie not so casually asks.

  Hugh grabs his pint glass. “I did. She’s the fashion fan in our relationship. I’m simply attending for moral support.”

  My head tilts at his sarcastically.

  “Moral support and…she might’ve promised me a hand job in the limo.”

  I chortle as I nod in approval.

  “Why I don’t go too
then?”

  Her suggestion snaps my head her direction, positive I misheard her. “Pardon?”

  “For moral support,” she pretends to tease. “If Hugh can do it for Dana, I can do it for you I guess. At the very least, Hugh won’t have to be miserable alone.”

  “Could be fun,” my best mate states in a voice filled with mirth. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  The media cooks up some ludicrous report in which they accuse Felicity of being my mistress and how distasteful it is for me to have my wife in the same place as her…Or Brie purposely tripping Felicity in front of hundreds of cameras to humiliate her the same way Felicity not so subtlety tries to do to her despite her sworn statements.

  Not wanting her to feel pressured into attending, I counter, eyes planted in hers, “It’s alright if you would rather stay home, Love. Honestly. Between projects at MINOH, time with the children at St. Cecila’s, and studying for this certificate, I’m sure a night at home with Netflix probably sounds like heaven to you. If you want I’ll even bail early on the White Show to join you. We can finish up the show about the serial killer in Ireland. You know the one where you try to sound Irish yet sound almost Scottish?”

  She twitches a glare as her food and my fresh pint are delivered. “I do not sound Scottish.”

  “You have to be the worst at accents. Like Joey from FRIENDS was better at them than you are.”

  Sad but true.

  “Oh…Now I wanna come to the show just to be the one to turn your white suit black.”

  Hugh tosses his head back in laughter while I shake my head. “Absolutely not. If you come, you have to swear to leave my suit in its intended form and color.”

  “That seems a bit much.”

  My expression remains firm.

  Brie snickers yet surrenders her hands. “Fine. Your suit will remain innocent.”

  Still uncertain this is a good idea instead of the tragic one I believe it is, I fold my arms, and question a final time, “And you’re sure this is what you want? To attend with me?”

  She reluctantly nods clearly swallowing an unspoken addition she isn’t comfortable stating.

  “Alright then.” I attempt to brush off my nervousness. “Should be fun…”

  More likely interesting... You’ve seen the glazed over look she gets in her eyes when I ask her opinion on shoes. How does she have any hope for surviving an entire night of nothing but fashion? I’ll give her credit for at least trying, even if it is to prevent me from spending additional alone time with Felicity outside of work. Who knows? Maybe I’m wrong and everything will be fine. At the very least I’m hoping to one up Hugh and Dana’s limo adventure with a blowjob. What! I’m not a selfish lover. I’ll pass on one to give her a reason to wobble in her heels…

  Brie

  My head slowly rotates around the room observing the white and crystal décor. There are snowflakes covered in glitter draped from the ceiling and also along the outline of the glass runway that is protruding to the middle of the room. The makeshift trees positioned in random locations have white feathers instead of leaves, making them look more like something from a Dr. Seuss book than a snow covered timber.

  This entire room looks like something a sixteen year old and her six year old sister created to piss off their parents.

  I politely turn to Kellan to ask, “Where are our seats?”

  One hand grips onto my hip tightly as he guides me to the very front row right across from the stage. He points to the center ones. “There.”

  Our names are printed in cursive on folded pieces of paper.

  Brie Kenningston

  A smirk appears which prompts Kellan to question, “What?”

  I casually motion to it. “Just…still getting used to seeing my name like that.”

  He turns me to face him and wraps his arm around me. “Well, I always hope it makes you smile because it’s not changing for a lifetime, love.”

  The grin widens.

  Swiftly, he drops his lips to mine. The kiss is soft and sweet yet lingers dangerously close to crossing the line of sensual to sexual. Kellan reluctantly ends the connection and brushes the fallen strand of hair away from my face. “Thank you for coming with me. I love having you at my side.”

  Unable to resist the urge to tease, I whisper back, “Don’t get used to this.”

  We exchange a laugh just as we’re joined by Dana and Hugh.

  “Brie!” Dana exclaims.

  I turn to hug her while Kellan greets Hugh. When I pull back I admire her simple, one shoulder dress and up-do. It’s fitted to give her chest shape yet loose enough to hide the possibility of unwanted underwear lines. “You look great.”

  She quickly denies the compliment. “No. You look great. You always look so hot in lace!”

  Kellan drops his head on my shoulder from behind and tangles his arms around me. “You have no idea.”

  I give him a playful elbow and he chortles only to have it cut off by a voice I’m beginning to hate more than nails on a chalkboard. “Kellan!”

  His embrace instantly vanishes leaving me feeling emptier than I care to admit.

  Look, I’ve never been the extra needy significant other who has to have all the attention of their boyfriend, but it definitely feels like I’m competing with her 96% of the time. And not flat in your face competing either but the sneaky, sideways, can’t slap her and call it a game over kind. While I’m unsure if Kellan sees it and is simply ignoring it or if he’s truly that stupid to the obvious, I do know he never makes me feel she stands a chance. I’m thankful for that even if I’m not convinced myself.

  Dana whispers in my ear, “Why is Kellan hugging the woman who looks like she skinned Satan’s favorite bird to make the bottom of her dress?”

  My lips press together to contain my laugh. It takes a moment, but once my composure is settled, I announce, “That’s Felicity Malone. His business partner and an old friend from college.”

  She lifts her eyebrows is shock. “Seriously?”

  I try not to sigh harshly. “Seriously.”

  The two of us let our eyes drift her direction. Her feathery lower half stops right under her ass, which is where it meets the lace portion of her dress.

  Guess she knows his fondness for it too…

  Just as my mind starts making bitchy comments about the crystal portion of her dress that seems to only cover her nipples, she greets me, “Surprised to see you here, Brie! I thought you hated fashion.”

  Yeah well I love my husband and hate you more so it felt like a good decision. What? No, of course I’m not going to say that out loud.

  “I do, but I love my husband and I love our friends, so I figured what the hell. Why not come? Why not try something new?”

  Her smile brightens but I can’t help how fake it feels to me. “It’ll be fun!” She gives my long sleeve lace dress with a sheer back a strong judgmental stare. With her head tilted a little higher than before she states, “Your dress is lovely.”

  “Thanks.”

  Translation? Lovely is hideous to her. I learned that one evening at dinner when she referenced a woman’s shoes as such with a sarcastic sneer. She really is the worst kind of person.

  “However, black shoes at the White Show is almost a crime. It’s really a place for whites, nudes, or silvers.”

  No. If I can’t slap her neither can you.

  I wind my arm around Kellan’s and shrug. “In my opinion black and white always goes together.”

  The double sided comment kicks the corner of his lip upward. He leans his face into mine, gives me a curt kiss, and suggests, “Why don’t we go ahead and sit?”

  All five of us settle into our seats. Thankfully, Dana is on the other side of me while the biggest pain in my ass lately is on the other side of Kellan. She captures his attention with some description of someone and I find myself quickly alienated from the conversation.

  He drapes an arm around the back of the chair and gently strokes my shoulder with
his thumb. Knowing that he’s listening to her but loving on me, returns the victorious grin I enjoy sporting.

  Dana leans back into Hugh’s embrace. “I cannot tell you how excited I am to be here!”

  That makes one of us….

  “You know how fashion week is a big deal all around the world at this time of year, right?”

  “More or less.”

  “Well this is the only show that Markay himself ever appears at. Like this is his one public appearance a year.”