She tucked the keys into the pocket of her apron. “What about the event then?”
“You didn’t stay.
“I had things to do back here.”
He glanced over her shoulder to the counter behind her. She followed his gaze knowing full well the bottle of bourbon and circle of dough didn’t look like the workings of a woman with a long to-do list. But he let it go.
“Did you watch any of the speeches?” he asked.
She wanted to tell him how amazing it was that he was funding cancer research, and more than that, how proud she was of him for opening up and sharing a bit of his emotions. After a lifetime of stoic silence, that couldn’t have been easy for him. But she was nothing if not stubborn, so instead she merely lifted her chin and said, “I saw enough.”
“But you left before I could speak to you, which sort of defeats the purpose of flying to Chicago. I tried to catch you in the loading dock, but Olivia said you’d already left.”
So that would explain the keys. “I thought you were here for the symposium?” she asked, not giving him an inch. If he had something to say then he was going to have to man up and say it, then be on his way.
“I didn’t need to fly five thousand miles to make a donation. Generally I just write a check. I’m here for you,” he said. “The whole thing was so we could have a chance to talk.” He had the decency to look ashamed. “So I could apologize.”
“You could have called.”
“I wanted to, believe me, but after the plane landed—”
“How’s your father doing?” she blurted out.
“Much better. Thank you for asking.”
In truth, she should have asked sooner. Her mother raised her better than that and asshole or not, his only remaining parent had nearly died. Only a heartless bitch would ignore that. Then again, she did have more bourbon in her body than food.
“It was touchy there for a bit, but they expect he’ll make a full recovery. In the meantime, I’ve assumed all of his official duties.”
This wasn’t new information thanks to Olivia’s updates, but there was no need for Hank to know that. So instead she merely gave a small nod. “Must keep you very busy.”
“It does. But that’s no excuse for not calling. It’s just . . .”
She waited, letting him dangle.
“Every time I picked up the phone I found myself at a loss for words.”
It was hard to imagine the man she’d seen commanding the ballroom at the Palmer House at a loss for words. And yet there was something utterly broken about him now. The light in his eyes was gone and in its place was something dull and flat. His jaw was tight and his lips were pale.
“I thought in person would be better,” he said.
“You know most men would just ask to see me, not place a catering order for twelve hundred cupcakes.”
“Right, right. But you see that’s the thing, I’m not like most men. The women I meet are all candidates, either bred to marry royalty or hoping to snag a tiara. I’m not trying to play the victim here, I know I’m extremely fortunate in many regards. Hell, nearly all. But underneath I’m—”
“Is this the part where you tell me you’re just a boy standing in front of a girl?”
Henry frowned. “What?”
Cassie dismissed his question with a shake of her head. “Never mind. Look, I get that you just wanted to take a break, have your own version of The Prince and Me,” she said, referencing what up until recently had been one of her favorite rom-coms. “But what was just a lark for you was real to me. I fell for you, in a way I didn’t think was possible in such a short time, and now I’m finally starting to feel like myself again and here you are looking all”—she waved her hand through the air, trying to pull the right adjective from her bourbon-buzzed mind—“all . . . you.”
He glanced down at his designer suit. “I don’t always dress like this.”
No, she thought, sometimes you wear medals and mantles and crowns covered in jewels.
“Do you think any of that matters to me?” she asked. “I don’t need sports cars and haylofts turned into bedrooms. I was just as happy sitting with you in the grass. For me it’s not about the clothes or the crown or anything else. It’s about the man who stopped to ask directions and quite literally swept me off my feet. It’s the way we talked for hours about everything and nothing and the way you kissed me that made my toes curl and the way I wanted to be more with you, do more. You made me want to do things I’d only read about in books, and not just the naughty stuff, but the adventures. I wanted all that with you. I trusted you with my body, Hank, but more important, with my heart.”
The sound of that name on her lips—the one she called him when he was in fact just a boy and she was the girl falling for him—caused a lump to form in her throat. She swallowed hard. “Maybe the joke’s on me for letting you in so quickly, but how does the expression go? ‘Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me’?” She inhaled through her nose, willing her voice to remain level. When she spoke, her tone was quiet but resolute. “I can’t be your fool again, Henry. I don’t think I would survive the next time.”
He took a small step forward, his eyes searching hers. But instead of giving him the reaction she knew he hoped for, Cassie looked down, blindly studying the pattern of black-and-white tiles that stretched across the floor.
After a long beat of silence, Hank let out a resigned breath. “Right, well, I guess there’s really nothing left to say except I’m sorry. And I am, Cassie, with all my heart.” She watched his shoes as he turned toward the door then stopped. “Actually there is one more thing. Don’t be mad at your brother. He didn’t have anything to do with my plan and once he found out about it he not only wanted my hide, he insisted that I tell you the truth immediately. He warned me that no matter how well intentioned, my deceit would play out badly, which is exactly what happened. I should have listened to him, but I was greedy and I wanted more time with you and now it’s cost me the only woman I have ever truly loved.”
She didn’t look up, she couldn’t. Because if she did, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from running into his arms. So instead she turned her back to hide the tears that stung her eyes.
The door closed on a soft click that echoed much louder inside her head. Enough, she thought. She was standing in her bakery. Her bakery. Opening day had been a success and so had their first catered event. No man was going to ruin that for her.
She needed a distraction. With a steely resolve Cassie marched back into the kitchen, yanked her favorite cookbook off one of the shelves, and slammed it down on the stainless steel workstation. It was time to refocus on what truly mattered, not some stupid boy with his stupid smile and his stupid dimples. But no matter how many times she flipped through the well-worn pages, she couldn’t get the look on his face out of her mind. She closed her eyes, but that only made it easier to picture his expression fading from hope to despair. What was wrong with her? He’d broken her heart, not the other way around. And then he had the nerve to fly halfway around the word to tell her she was the only woman he ever loved. Was that true or was it just another lie because for the first time in his privileged life the prince couldn’t have what he wanted? Finding out would put too much on the line. She couldn’t take the chance. But that didn’t make the ache inside her chest hurt any less.
Her shoulders sagged as she let herself imagine a reality where Hank actually existed. One where the two of them were able to explore what began on that steamy night in Georgia. The tears fell freely as she indulged the memories that could have been only the beginning, until a tap on the door behind her startled her back to reality.
Hank. Her heart raced, but when she turned around it wasn’t Hank standing at the back door of the bakery, but her brother.
She unlocked the door and swung it open. “If you’re looking for your partner in crime, he just left.” She and her brother had never really talked about what had happened in Georgia. C
assie had gone into hiding and Matthew had gone on his honeymoon. By the time he was back two weeks later, the last thing she wanted to do was revisit the topic. And besides, talking to your brother about how his college friend seduced you then broke your heart wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation Cassie wanted to have. Ever.
“I didn’t even know he was in town until he stopped by my place.”
Cassie found that hard to believe. Then again, for the trip to have remained a secret the inner circle had to have been pretty tight. “When?”
“Huh?”
“When did he stop by?”
“This afternoon. Between the airport and the hotel.” He shook his head. “The motorcade took up half the block. Our neighbors are going to be whispering about it for weeks.”
“A heads-up would’ve been nice.” She fixed her brother with a hard glare. “Guess he talked you into keeping another secret.”
Matthew took his Cubs hat off, ran a hand through his hair, then placed it back on his head. “It’s not like that. He fucked up and he knows it. All he wanted was a chance to apologize in person. You’re about as stubborn as they come, sis. If I’d have told you he was going to be there you probably wouldn’t have even gone.”
He was right about that, but still.
“It was a shit thing to do not telling you who he was. But to be fair, when he came up with the idea it wasn’t out of some desire to deceive people. He said he just wanted to keep a low profile.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe you went along with it.”
“I know. When I found out, I was ready to throttle him,” he said, echoing what Hank had said not a half hour before. “But he really liked you. And he wasn’t just saying it to cover for having hooked up with my sister.” Matthew made a face like he tasted something foul. “I’ve known the guy for years and I’ve never seen him so whipped. He was smitten, like totally gone.”
A tiny bit of satisfaction seeped in between the layers of anger and hurt. “Wouldn’t that have been all the more reason to tell me who he really was?”
“That’s what I told him. But he kept going on about needing more time and wanting to get to know you better first.”
“Before he trusted me with the truth?”
“You’ve got it backwards. He wanted you to know him better before he blew it all up.” His mouth twisted and he shrugged. “Guess he thought telling you the truth would scare you off.”
“Yeah right.” She snorted. “As if revealing he’s a prince would have been a huge turn off.”
“No, but revealing his deception would have shut things down pretty fast. And I wouldn’t be so quick to assume that royalty is a walk in the park.”
“More like a ride through the park in a gold-tipped carriage.”
“All that pomp and circumstance comes with a price, you know? For starters, he always has to wonder if people like him or the crown. His entire life is up for public consumption and critique. I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want my every move analyzed and discussed everywhere from Parliament to the local pubs. Paparazzi hound him for pictures, acquaintances ask him for favors. And the women?” Matthew shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe what some of them are willing to do to get the heir to the throne in their bed.”
“I don’t think I want to know.” The thought of Hank in bed with another woman caused a burning sensation in the pit of Cassie’s belly. Or maybe it was the bourbon. Whatever possessed her to shotgun that last glass?
“My point is, can you really blame the guy for wanting a weekend of normal?”
Cassie poked at the floor with the toe of her gym shoe. “He still should have told me.”
“Yes, he should have. But he didn’t and life goes on and now all that’s left is to determine if the punishment fits the crime. Only you can answer that. But Cass?” Her brother waited until she looked up. When she did his eyes were full of the kind of understanding only a sibling could share. “He’s not Dad.”
Her brother’s words hit her like a punch to the gut. Was that what she was doing, punishing Hank for her father’s crimes? A heavy silence hung in the air until Matthew finally spoke again. “Hank wasn’t trying to lead a double life. He just wanted a chance to be himself.”
“Don’t you mean Henry?”
Matthew smiled. “No, I mean Hank.” He glanced around as though realizing where he was for the first time. “The place looks great. Sorry we missed the opening.”
“Thanks. And it’s okay. Emily couldn’t very well have missed being a godmother. I’m pretty sure her sister would have disowned her for that one.”
He nodded. “True.”
“You two should come by on your lunch tomorrow.” She gave him a teasing grin. “But only she gets the family discount. I’m still mad at you.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. And sounds like a plan.” His brows pulled together. “Oh wait, tomorrow’s no good,” he said as though he just remembered a conflict. Cassie had known her brother her entire life. He might have been a whiz when it came to finance but he was a terrible actor. “I’m taking a client to a polo match out in Oak Brook tomorrow morning. Rumor has it some royal tight-ass will be playing for charity before he jets back home, which means traffic will totally suck even worse than when Obama comes to town. Bet it’s sold out now too, thanks to all the hype.” He shook his head. “Good thing I already have my ticket.” Matthew reached onto the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a large, laminated ticket. He studied it for a few seconds, then looked at the row of leftover cupcakes in the glass refrigerator and asked, “Mind if a take a sample home for Em?”
“Um, sure,” Cassie said. “Take one for you too.” She packaged two of what she knew were their favorites in a pink cardboard box and handed them to her brother.
“Thanks, Squirt.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on the crown of her head. “You’re not too bad as far as sisters go.”
He turned away and as he did, the paper he’d been holding slipped to the ground.
“Matty,” Cassie said, bending to pick it up. “You dropped your ticket.”
“Well ain’t that a shame,” he said, already digging into the cardboard box as he strolled out the door.
Chapter Eighteen
According to fairy tale lore, a princess was guaranteed a sleepless night if a pea was placed beneath twenty mattresses and twenty featherbeds. Well Hans Christian Anderson missed the mark as far as Cassie was concerned. That wimpy princess had it easy. A pea was nothing compared to trying to sleep with a ticket to a royal polo match sitting on the nightstand.
Cassie tossed and turned all night, replaying every conversation, every look, and every touch. Was it possible that what they’d felt was real? After a thorough review, she began to realize that the details Hank had shared with her could have all been seen as true, just taken out of context. After all, he was expected to go into the family business, and the country they ruled certainly did their fair share of importing and exporting. So technically speaking, that wasn’t a lie. Neither was what he told her about his parents or his mother’s illness.
As she stared at the ceiling, she kept hearing the announcer from the reruns of the cop show her grandpa used to watch when she was a little girl. “Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.” Could the words spoken at the start of every Dragnet episode apply to their situation as well? Was her brother right, was Henry being his true self during the time he called himself Hank? And if he was, did that mean his feelings for her were genuine as well?
By the time the sun came up she’d reached the only logical conclusion. She was an idiot. Despite having the weight of a nation on his shoulders, the man she loved had flown halfway around the world to beg her forgiveness and she’d sent him away, hat in hand. Make that crown in hand. But the end result was the same.
The man she loved. The thought had come to her so naturally, it took a mo
ment for it to actually sink in. Once it did, she bolted upright, throwing back the duvet before flying out of bed.
She had to talk to him before he left. She started left, then right, in a move Olivia would have described as a chicken with its head cut off. Think, Cassie. She looked at the clock on the nightstand, and when she did the ticket her brother had left on the floor of her shop caught her eye. Subtlety was never Matthew’s strong suit but his heart was in the right place and thank God for that because at the moment that shiny pass was her ticket to Hank. Or Henry. Whoever, she thought. All that mattered was getting to the polo field.
For that she’d need a car and since there wasn’t time to rent one, she had to settle for the Sugar Rush van. She showered and dressed, opting for a cap-sleeve A-line dress with wide pastel stripes. She had no idea what one wore to a polo match but she imagined it was a bit highbrow, rather like the Kentucky Derby minus the hats. Shit, did she need a hat? Either way, there wasn’t time to find one so she settled for loose curls with one side pulled back in a mother-of-pearl clip. A bit of mascara and a dab of lip glass and she was ready to roll. But when she slid behind the wheel of the van, she was overcome with the realization that the last person to drive it was Hank. She ran her fingers along the edge of the seat, picturing him there. A delivery van with SUGAR RUSH written in enormous pink letters was a far cry from a silver Porsche 911, and even that was probably a far cry from whatever he used to zip around town back home. The thought of him maneuvering Chicago traffic in this monster made her smile. He did it all for her, in the hopes that he could apologize and earn a second chance. And she’d sent him away without so much as a goodbye. Her smile faded. He must think her a heartless bitch.
Cassie pulled out into the gridlock of downtown Chicago and laid on the horn, urging a tourist in a rented Hyundai to switch lanes. After a few daredevil moves that earned her a few middle-finger salutes, she was on the five-lane highway that would take her to Hank. She was halfway to the suburbs before she realized she had one small problem. She might have had a ticket to the event, but how in the world was she going to get close enough to get the attention of a prince? If she could find that one security guard who always seemed to be at his side then maybe, but that was a long shot. She needed a back-up plan.
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