The Playboy's Princess

by Joy Fulcher

  Kristy clicked away, enjoying having a different photo to take than the standard pose. The women pushed forward, trying to get a better look at Drew. Yep, they’d definitely identified him.

  “All right, let’s move along,” Kristy said, holding the photo card out for Drew to take to the gift shop.

  He stood up, grinned, and whispered, “Can I see you tonight?”

  Jade felt a blush rise on her cheeks and nodded. Drew took the photo card, winked at his “princess,” and then moved on to the next room where Cinderella was waiting.

  “Was that really Drew Malik?” a woman asked.

  “It sure looked like him. When we get outside, we should try to find him.”

  Jade wished she had her phone on her so she could text him to be careful. But she would get a break soon, and she could warn him then. Not to mention, he seemed to take the whole son of a celebrity thing in his stride. It never seemed to bother him.

  Drew Malik proposes at Disneyland.

  Jade stared at the headline and shook her head. A fuzzy photo of Drew on his knees and Jade in her princess dress was on the cover of Fame magazine. If anyone believed that was real, then they were so stupid they deserved to be misinformed. Seriously, it was obvious that she was a character actor.

  People got dressed up to go to Disneyland, sure, but not in full princess costumes. Hats, ears, and T-shirts were the common costumes in the park. One of the ladies she’d heard whispering must have gotten phone-camera happy when Jade wasn’t looking.

  The date with Drew the night before, although impromptu, had been fun. He’d hung around the park until she’d knocked off her shift, and then they did the rides together. Splash Mountain was especially funny because Drew nearly vomited.

  He didn’t find it funny, of course, but Jade was thoroughly entertained. He’d been all man on the Tower of Terror, though. Didn’t even scream when the elevator dropped. Jade had been on all the rides so many times she couldn’t count them, but it was always fun to go with someone new. Drew’s reactions were especially entertaining.

  The most annoying part of the evening had been when he’d insisted on taking her through The Little Mermaid ride over at the Adventure Park and asking her the whole time if it made her homesick.

  “Look, it’s you!” he’d proclaimed when they passed the Ariel statue. “Is that my competition?” he asked when they passed Ariel and Eric almost kissing in the boat.

  Jade just rolled her eyes and went along with it. She was having too good of a time to start a petty fight. He was trying to be cute and funny and she just rolled with it.

  Jade’s least favorite part of the night, though, had been when he’d walked her to her apartment. She hadn’t had to catch public transportation because Drew had his car. He dropped her home and walked her upstairs.

  “I had fun,” she said, feeling as if she’d been on a real date.

  “Me too. You’re fun!”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “No, just happy.” He gave her a goofy grin.

  “Do you…?” Jade bit her lip. She’d been about to ask him if he wanted to come inside.

  Was that allowed? Did she even want to take their relationship to that place? It was all so confusing. She was saved having to sort her head out by Drew’s statement.

  “I should be getting home. Thanks for a really fun night. I mean it—that might be the best fake date I’ve ever had. Hell, maybe the best date period.”

  And there it was. He’d called it a fake date. Jade was glad she hadn’t finished her question and made a fool of herself.

  “I had a great time. I don’t tend to hang out at the Park much anymore. Working there has taken some of the magic of it away, but I’m really glad we stayed tonight. Thanks.”

  He kissed her on the cheek and then disappeared. He didn’t look back over his shoulder to see if she was safely inside. After she showered and climbed into bed, she placed her phone on the nightstand in case it rang. But he didn’t text or call that night.

  Chapter Eight

  Intervention

  SWEAT COATED EVERY INCH of Drew’s body. When he’d agreed to be a basketball coach, he hadn’t realized how much running around he would do. His vision of coaching was to just stand on the sidelines, yelling orders and blowing his whistle. The reality was that he worked just as hard, if not harder, than the players. But as tired as he was, he actually loved the work. His individual sessions with Alex were going great, and he could see real potential in that boy.

  Once he got home, all he wanted to do was have a long, hot shower.

  “Did you have a good day at training?” Caroline asked when Drew walked through the foyer to head upstairs.

  “It was great. What time are my parents expecting me for dinner?”

  “The reservation is for eight.”

  “I’ll be ready,” Drew promised.

  Caroline laughed. “I’ll take that bet.”

  Drew gave Caroline the finger and then took the stairs two at a time, Caroline’s laughter echoing after him.

  He showered, washing the sweat from his body and thinking about maybe calling Tully after dinner. She would be up for going out for a drink. As annoying as she could be, she knew how to have fun.

  When he was dressed, Drew pulled the bottle of vodka out from under his bed and downed two shots, getting himself ready for the night. He stowed the bottle again, rolling it into the shadows so Caroline wouldn’t find it.

  “Told you I’d be on time,” he called, but there was no response.

  He went through into the dining room and paused. His mother and father were seated together, with Caroline next to his mother. They all wore stern expressions.

  “I’m not late,” Drew said, checking his watch to be sure.

  “Drew, have a seat,” his father said.

  “O…kay,” he said, elongating the word.

  Laura leaned forward and grasped his hand tightly across the table.

  “You know we love you,” she said.

  “Oh God, what’s going on?” Drew really wanted to run upstairs and have another shot. He eyed his father’s well-stocked bar on the buffet behind the table.

  Caroline whimpered and dabbed her face with a scrunched-up tissue. Drew did not like the atmosphere in the room, and he pulled his hand free from his mother’s.

  Aaron cleared his throat. “Drew, son, this is hard for us, but you know it’s been coming for a while.”

  Drew stared at them with a blank face. His father’s words didn’t make any sense. Now he really wanted a drink. The two shots he’d had upstairs hadn’t given him nearly as much of a buzz as he’d hoped.

  “The way you live your life…what you’re doing to your body,” his mother said.

  “What’s this about? I thought we were having a family dinner.” Drew shot Caroline a dirty look, and she cowered in her seat. “Are we eating or not?”

  Aaron leaned forward. “Drew, we need to talk to you about your drinking.”

  “Oh, give me a break,” Drew yelled, finally understanding what was going on. There was no dinner. He should have known something was up as soon as he came downstairs.

  “Drew, please listen. Don’t let anger stop you from hearing our concern.” Laura reached for her son’s hand again, but he’d pulled it out of her reach. “We love you, and we’re concerned about your health. The amount you drink isn’t healthy.”

  “Mom, I know you think you know what you’re talking about, but you don’t. I’m fine. I can handle a few fucking drinks.”

  “Be respectful when you talk to your mother,” Aaron scolded.

  “Sorry, Mom,” he mumbled as if he were a small child.

  Drew’s head started to pound. The last thing he felt like doing was sitting at the table, being lectured by his parents about alcohol.

  “Doctor, why don’t you come in?” Aaron said.

  A middle-aged man entered the room from the living room and sat at the table.

  “A doctor?” Drew asked.<
br />
  “Hello, Drew. My name is Peter. I’m a general surgeon. Your parents asked me to come and speak with you about what alcohol does to your body.”

  Drew rolled his eyes and scrubbed his hands through his hair.

  “This is a joke, right? Someone set me up.” He started to laugh and looked around the room, expecting his friends to come busting in with drinks for everyone.

  “Drew, this isn’t funny. We’d like you to listen to the doctor.” Laura watched her son with an emotional stare.

  Knowing the only way to escape this torture would be to let them get this out of their system, Drew slouched back in his chair, hanging his right arm over the back and stretching his legs out. “Okay, Doc, let’s get this over with.” He let out a bored sigh.

  Peter looked at Aaron, who nodded his head for the doctor to continue. Drew tried his best to pay attention as the doctor explained about the damage alcohol did to the liver, heart, and brain, but it was all so pointless. He didn’t have a drinking problem.

  Drew held his hand up for the doctor to stop speaking. When he was silent, Drew sat up straight and leaned his elbows on the table.

  “So, Doc, you never drink?”

  Peter coughed and shifted in his seat. “I’m not going to lie to you, Drew. On occasion I have a drink, but I don’t get drunk on a regular basis.”

  “But did you, when you were younger?” Drew pushed.

  Again the doctor looked at Aaron, who shrugged his shoulders.

  “I indulged as a young person, yes, but not over a long period of time.”

  Drew nodded his head, trying to keep a straight face.

  “And, Dad,” he said, turning to Aaron, “I know you drink.”

  Laura grabbed her husband’s hand and held it tightly.

  “This isn’t about me, Drew. I don’t have a problem.”

  “And neither do I,” Drew said triumphantly.

  Caroline started crying again, turning her tissue into a soggy, shredded mess.

  Aaron stood up, dropped his wife’s hand, and pointed down at his son.

  “Now, listen here, boy. We’re here because we love you and we want your life to be a long and healthy one. This isn’t us ganging up on you, and it’s not a tit-for-tat about who drinks the most. Do you know that your mother lays awake at night waiting for you to come home, with her phone clutched in her hand in case the police call?”

  Drew’s heart dropped into his stomach. Aaron’s face had gone as red as a ripe apple, and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths before sitting down.

  “Mom, I’m sorry that you worry. I really am. But I’m smart when I go out. I don’t drive drunk, and I’m always with friends.”

  “Friends who are just as drunk as you. Great lot of help they’ll be in an emergency,” Aaron muttered.

  “I’m just having fun!” Drew yelled, making his mother and Caroline jump. “I won’t party forever. Just let me have my fun while I can. Please. You’ve got me doing charity work, and I haven’t missed a single session. I’m even doing extra work with one of the kids because he shows promise. Can you really think I’m wasting my life when I’m jumping through your hoops anyway?”

  Aaron cracked his knuckles, a sign Drew knew meant he was thinking of a response and stalling for time.

  “Your mother and I are very proud of the determination with which you’ve taken on your charity work. You’ve impressed me. But one day you’ll be living on your own, and to be honest, we’re not convinced you can look after yourself. The last thing we want for you is to be drunk all day and night and waste your life in a never-ending hangover.”

  “And that would be a short life,” Peter chimed in. “If you were drinking every day, you’d cut years, maybe decades, off your life.”

  “I get it, okay? You don’t all need to keep up the same story. You think I drink too much. I don’t agree. That’s the end of it.” Drew stood up and went to walk to the garage. He wanted to head into Hollywood and meet up with some friends.

  “You’re drunk right now,” Peter said, sniffing the air as he walked past. “I can smell liquor on you.”

  “I’m not drunk!”

  “Have you been drinking?” Aaron demanded.

  “I had a few shots to get my night started. I’m nowhere near drunk.” Drew shrugged, showing it wasn’t a big deal.

  “I didn’t see you at the bar, which means you have a bottle stashed in your room,” his father said.

  “Hiding is one of the symptoms of addiction,” Peter said.

  Drew’d had just about enough of this conversation. He lunged for Peter, planning on giving the guy a black eye to go with his smug expression.

  “Andrew!” his mother gasped as Aaron leapt up and grabbed Drew around the chest, holding him back.

  “Caroline, search Drew’s room. I want any alcohol you find removed right now,” Aaron said, struggling to hold onto his son.

  “Stay out of my room!” Drew yelled.

  Caroline gave a whimper but ran from the room, her footsteps loud as she went up the stairs.

  “What are you going to do, lock me up?”

  “If that’s what it takes,” Aaron seethed between gritted teeth, still holding his son.

  “Aaron, maybe we should take a step back. This isn’t what we planned,” Laura said, standing up. Her eyes were wide, and her hands were shaking.

  The worry on his mother’s face made Drew stop struggling, but when he saw the fear in her eyes, he sighed in defeat.

  “Fine, I’ll stay home tonight. It’s not a big deal. I can go a night without drinking.”

  Aaron slowly released his grasp but stayed close to Drew in case he tried to make a run for it.

  Laura turned to Peter and walked him out, thanking him for his assistance and promising to invite him for dinner on a more pleasant night.

  Drew sat down with a huff, his father moving with him like a shadow. Caroline appeared after about fifteen minutes with three bottles in her arms, including the vodka from under his bed. Drew swore under his breath. He’d hoped she wouldn’t find that one.

  “Pour it down the sink,” Aaron said.

  Drew looked up, realizing that his father was speaking to him. “All right.”

  He followed the older man into the kitchen and twisted the top off the vodka bottle, tipping it into the sink and watching the liquid swirl down the drain. He tried to convince himself it was just water, but the smell made his stomach churn and his mouth water.

  “All of them,” Aaron said when Drew hesitated at the final bottle.

  Laura carried several more bottles in from the dining room, placing them on the counter next to him.

  “You’re getting rid of your entire bar stock?” Drew asked.

  “Unlike some people, I don’t need alcohol in my home. If I want a drink, I can have just one. But we don’t want to have anything to make this harder for you. It all goes.”

  “Even this one?” Drew held up a dusty bottle of red wine. He knew it cost a fortune and was a gift from one of Aaron’s director friends.

  Aaron hesitated but then squared his shoulders. “Yes. It all goes.”

  Drew watched the alcohol disappear down the drain. It was such a waste. When every last drop was gone and Caroline started putting all the bottles into a plastic bag for the garbage, Drew turned to his parents.

  “Can I go upstairs now?”

  He felt like a stupid child. He hadn’t asked his parents’ permission for anything in years, least of all to go to his room.

  “Be honest with me, Drew. Is there any more that Caroline didn’t find?”

  “No, Dad. She got it all.”

  Aaron looked at his wife, and she gave a small nod.

  “All right. You’re not to leave this house tonight, do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Drew hung his head, feeling scolded, and shuffled out of the room. He grumbled to himself all the way up the stairs and threw himself down onto his bed. He’d told the truth; Caroline had found his entire stash
. He was in for a long night with no entertainment.

  A soft knock made him sit up.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Are you hungry, dear?”

  “Not really. Thanks anyway, Mom.”

  “Come downstairs if you change your mind. Caroline has ordered Indian food for us.”

  “Okay.”

  Drew loved Indian food, but there was no way he could go down and eat with his parents. Not tonight. He’d sneak down after they went to bed and help himself to any leftovers.

  Drew hadn’t been kidding about it being a long night. He did game plans for his coaching for the next two weeks, played wastebasket basketball for over an hour, had another shower, and played all his lives on Candy Crush—twice. When he heard his parents finally go to bed, he sighed in relief and opened his bedroom door. Or he tried to open the door. It was locked from the outside.

  Drew punched the door and swore under his breath.

  He wasn’t going to sneak out to drink. He just wanted to get something to eat. He flung himself down on the bed and remembered there was a bag of chips in the backpack that he took to his coaching job.

  He ripped the bag open and shoveled the greasy potato slices into his mouth. When he’d shaken out the last of the crumbs, he looked around for a drink, finding nothing. He had no choice but to cup water to his mouth with his hands from the bathroom sink.

  He’d make sure to let his parents know that, if they planned to keep him locked up, he needed proper meals. The fact that Laura had offered him dinner and he’d turned it down only made him angrier.

  Having exhausted every other form of entertainment, Drew swore he’d buy a TV tomorrow so he had something to do while in his bedroom. Then he remembered he didn’t have any money to buy a TV, and he swore again, punching a pillow.

  Soon, he reminded himself. He just had to be patient and bide his time until the wedding. Then he’d have all the money he needed. He could buy a thousand TVs, a hundred thousand. It was time to get that ball rolling. He grabbed his cell and dialed Jade’s number.