by Swan, T L
What kind of man am I? Imagine if she knew.
I pick up my phone and check it.
No missed calls.
4
Charlotte
Beth curls her nose. “What do you mean?”
I exhale and sink deeper in my seat. We’re sitting on the living room floor after eating our weight in Indian takeout. “Just what I said. He turned up at my work and was being ridiculously gorgeous, so we went out for dinner.” I shrug. “Things went well, and then we came back here. One thing led to another, we started making out, things got hot and… oh, it was so good. Then the very next minute I ruined it by blurting out that I was a virgin.”
Beth is deeply fascinated. “And?”
“And… he left.”
“What?” Beth gasps, her disbelief evident.
“I know.”
“But guys love virgins, don’t they?” She frowns. “I don’t get it?”
“But do they?” I scoff. “I’m twenty-four and I can’t get a man to come near me at all, Beth.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please, don’t insult my intelligence. You get plenty of men who pursue you.”
“Be serious for a moment and face the facts. I’m an ice princess who scares the majority of men away.” I sigh sadly.
“Don’t take offence to that. It’s not you, it’s Edward and everything that goes along with being a Prescott.”
I drain my wineglass because, God, this is depressing.
“And you really liked this guy?” she asks quietly.
I shrug sadly. “Not specifically him, more what he represents, you know? He was fun, naughty, and gorgeous. He’s older, too, and I would never be allowed to go out with him because he’s a well-known player.” I frown as I try to articulate my thoughts. “But… I just wanted to have fun for once. I’m not looking for a husband or anything, obviously. The only thing my family ever sees when they think of a man being with me is him only ever being with me for my money. I want men to be with me because of the woman I am. I want fun, carefree sex, like you get to have. Like every woman should be allowed to have in their youth.”
She nods, her face full of understanding. “Who knew being wealthy was so boring?” She tuts and stares into space.
I refill her wineglass. “Totally.” I pass her the glass. “And Wyatt was being all overprotective and annoying.”
“That’s his job. Don’t blame him for that.”
“Yeah, I get that, but Spencer was different. He wasn’t trying to woo me. He was honest and told me he only ever has friends with benefits. He was nothing but himself, and you know what? It was damn attractive.”
“So, you want friends with benefits now?”
“No. I don’t know what I want, but I know it isn’t this.”
“Hmm.”
I exhale heavily and lie back on the floor. “I just want a fucking holiday away from myself for a while.”
“Dropping F bombs now. You must be serious.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I am.”
“What do you mean, you want a holiday away from yourself?”
“I mean I wish I was someone else for a while, with a normal shitty job, no money, and every man in the world trying to shag her.” I smile as I imagine a different life where I didn’t have to constantly toe the line. “I want to feel desired and carefree, instead of having guards, Bentleys, Edward, and all the boring bullshit that goes along with being a Prescott.” I exhale heavily.
Beth watches me for a moment, and I can feel her brain ticking. “If that’s what you want, why don’t you get it?” she asks.
“What?”
“Why don’t you change your name and be normal for a while?”
“What do you mean?” I frown.
Her eyes widen with excitement. “And this is the perfect time, too.”
I roll my eyes, here we go.
“You said your father and Edward are away for six weeks, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, why don’t you take some time off from work while they’re away? Why not move to London and go undercover? You could get a shitty job and pretend your name is something completely different.”
“Like what?”
She bites her bottom lip and thinks for a moment. “Lottie Preston. Your friends call you Lottie, anyway.”
“Have you lost your mind?” I gasp, sitting up at once.
She beams at me. “Just the opposite, this is fucking genius. Get a job in a café or a nightclub pouring drinks or something. Nobody will know who you are, and you’ll be treated just like the rest of us. You can run amuck.”
I stare at her, wide-eyed as her idea rolls around in my head. “But what would I tell my father?”
“Hmm.” She thinks for a moment. “That’s tough because he won’t let you go anywhere without security.”
I flop back against the couch, dejected that my plan is already screwed. “It won’t work.” I sigh. “Why doesn’t Lara have the issues that I do?”
Beth rolls her eyes. “You and Lara are completely different.”
“Why?”
“Both her mother and father come from money. She’s had nannies and lived the high life her entire childhood. She has this entitled part of her personality that only rich people have. Your mother was different, Lottie. She didn’t have money. She fell in love with a rich man. You never had nannies and your main influence was your mother. She didn’t rely on money or see it as anything special. That’s why you’re different. Money doesn’t define who you are, and your family knows that. That’s why they feel you have to be protected so fiercely. They know that when you fall in love with someone, it could be with anyone. Social rankings mean nothing to you.”
I become overwhelmed with emotion. “I never thought of it like that.”
“Do you really think that your mother would want you to be a prisoner of your father’s bank balance?”
My eyes tear up from knowing that’s exactly what I am. I shake my head. “I don’t think she would.”
“Then let’s do this.”
“How do I get around the guards? Maybe I could just run away?”
“No. If you did that your father and Edward would come home acting crazy only to drag you back here.”
“That’s true.”
We both think for a moment.
“What about if you did run away, but more subtly so that you weren’t detected,” she says.
I frown. “How?”
“Well… you tell your job here that you are having eight weeks off to travel. But then you tell your father that you’re going to be working the same job as usual, just from the London office for a few weeks.”
This plan already sounds ridiculous. It will never work.
“But then you secretly get another job somewhere else.”
I roll my eyes. “As if.”
“The guards won’t follow you into work, they never do. They will hover around outside, but who cares, because you’ll be inside being someone else.”
“But then where would I live?”
“Hmm.” She thinks for a moment. “The guards don’t guard you twenty-four hours a day, do they?”
I shake my head. “No, only when I’m out and about. Once I’m home safe, everyone relaxes.”
“Okay. What about if you stay in a hotel?”
I twist my lips as I listen.
“Yes, I’ve got it.” She holds her hands up in the air. “You stay in a swanky hotel where your suite is the only room on the floor. The guards come out with us or whatever throughout the day or night, but you specifically instruct that they stay at a distance so that nobody even knows they are there. Then, once the guards escort you home for the night, there is no security risk because nobody else can get to your floor without a key. They will stay in their rooms on the level below.”
I stare at her.
“And then if you meet someone, I can take them up to your room after the guards have left, because I will have the only other key that gets me
to your floor.”
Excitement simmers in my stomach. “Are you serious?”
“Why not?” Her eyes are alight with mischief.
“Could this really work?” I whisper.
She shrugs, and we both smile goofily at each other.
“But what job will I get?”
“Well, it has to be in a fancy building that could compliment what you are supposed to be doing there. The guards and your family need to think you are doing the same job that you do here.”
I nod as I think. “In reality it has to be a shitty job that has no responsibility. I don’t want to let anyone down when I leave.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll look for one for you when I get back to London. Are you going to tell work on Monday?”
“Are you really serious about this?”
“Deadly. Fuck it, let’s go crazy.”
“I’ll have to speak to my guards.”
“Okay, ask them. But you know they will have to do whatever you want, anyway.” She looks over at me and smiles mischievously. “Are you ready to have some fun, Lottie Preston?”
The nerves dance in my stomach at the sound of my new fake name. “It may not happen yet,” I warn her. “There are a lot of what ifs in this plan.”
“But if it all pans out, will you do it?”
I imagine Spencer walking away and leaving me the other night without so much as looking back, and I know it’s always going to be like this. Nobody will ever touch the precious Charlotte Prescott unless they want to marry her. Dealing with my family just isn’t worth it. Who wants that kind of pressure on a first date?
“If the guards can go, and you can find me a job, you’ve got yourself a deal,” I say flatly, convinced there’s no way in hell that this will all come together.
She holds her glass up in the air and I clink it with mine. “I’m going to make this shit happen if it’s the last thing I do.” Her eyes already sparkle with victory.
I smirk. “Deal.”
* * *
“Hello, this is Charlotte Prescott speaking,” I say into the phone. It’s Monday afternoon, and I’m at my dreary job.
“Okay, you got it. You start next week!” Beth squeals excitedly through the phone.
“What?” I frown.
“I got you a job, and you start on Monday.”
My eyes widen. I glance around guiltily at all the normal, sensible people sitting at their desks. “Back in a minute,” I mouth to Alison before I scurry towards the door.
“Sure, take your time,” Alison says without looking up.
I push through the large glass doors and step into the outside garden area. “What do you mean you got me a job?” I whisper.
“Look, it’s nothing flash. You’re going to be in the admin and mailroom. But it will be easy to do, and the shit jobs are where the fun is normally at, anyway. It’s in the Belconnen Building, so your guards will have no idea you’re not important. That building already has security, so it’s a perfect scenario.”
“You’re serious?” I gasp.
“Completely. I’m coming to get you on Saturday to move you down to London.”
My mouth falls open. “Elizabeth,” I whisper angrily. “I thought you were joking.”
“And I thought you were sick of getting no action,” she hisses right back. “It’s six fucking weeks, Charlotte. Loosen the hell up.”
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “What if I get caught?”
“Then you turn around and come back straight home—no big deal. Your family is not going to disown you for having a working holiday in London.”
“No, I… I mean the new job,” I stammer. “What if I mess it up?”
“Oh, please, you’re probably more qualified than most people in that shitty building. You could be the fucking CEO if you wanted.”
Poor, deluded Elizabeth has such a distorted view of me. She thinks I could rule the damn world. “Beth,” I sigh.
“Don’t Beth me. I’m coming to get you on Saturday, and we’re going out clubbing on that same night. I’m buying you a huge box of condoms, too, because you’re going to fucking need them.”
I put my hand over my eyes. “Oh God.” Nerves swirl deep inside my stomach.
“You want to have fun, Charlotte, and daring to do something different is the first step. You need to call your father and Edward tonight and tell them that you’re working in London for a few days. They need to organise security, and then we’ll just keep extending it so that it doesn’t seem suss.”
“This whole damn thing is suss,” I whisper.
“Oh, and I called the Four Seasons to confirm they have a penthouse that takes up the entire top floor. I booked it out for six weeks. You’ll have to pay on arrival, though.”
I blow air into my cheeks, then blow it back out. “I can’t believe you actually think this is going to work.”
“Do you want to have a holiday from being Charlotte Prescott or not?” she snaps.
I stay silent for a moment before answering. “You know I do.”
“Then stop being such a baby. See you on Saturday.” She hangs up the phone and the line is dead.
I drop into a chair and stare at a tree in the garden for a moment. What the hell did I just agree to?
Edward is going to flip his lid.
The line rings, and my heart is thumping hard. It doesn’t feel right to be lying to my father.
“Hello, my dear Charlotte,” he answers.
I smile at the sound of his voice. I hadn’t realised until now just how much I miss him. “Hi, Dad.”
“How are you? What’s been going on at home? You’re up late, dear. It’s after eleven here.”
“Ah, yes.” I hesitate. Lying to him is going to be harder than I thought. “I just wanted to speak to you and tell you something. I have to go work in London for a few weeks.”
“Why?”
I wince. “There are some things that need to be taken care of in London, and I thought…” I twist the edge of my shirt between my fingers. “I thought now was a good time to go, while you’re away, so I can spend some time with Elizabeth. It’s just for a week or two.”
“Can’t it wait until we get home? I worry about you being in London on your own.”
“I know, Dad.” I bounce my leg as guilt fills me.
“I could come and stay in London with you when I get home, if that’s what you want? I don’t mind.”
“Ah.” Why does he have to be so damn nice all the time? “No. If I go alone then I’ll be home when you get home and we can spend some time together where I don’t have to work.”
He remains silent, and I know I haven’t convinced him yet.
“I’ll take the guards, of course.”
“Have you spoken to them?” he asks cautiously. “It may not suit them to go to London.”
“I have, and they’re both fine to come along. I’ll book them into the room next to mine.”
“I’ll speak to Edward,” he says sharply.
“Dad.” I sigh. “You know Edward won’t want me to go.”
“Only for your own safety, Charlotte. You are my most prized possession, and if anything happened to you...” His voice trails off. “You are a target now, love.”
“I won’t take stupid risks, Dad, and I’ll take the boys with me everywhere I go. I’m just going to be working through the day and going out to dinner with the girls at night. Nothing extreme.””
He inhales sharply.
“Please, I need some time with my girlfriends.” An unexpected wave of sadness rolls over me, because it really is true. “I’m lonely, Dad. I’ll go crazy locked up here at the house alone for six weeks.”
“I’ll speak to Edward.” He sighs.
“Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I hear the rustling of papers, and I imagine him sitting at his large mahogany desk, ruling the world from New York. “When do you want to go?”
“I have to be there for Monday
, so I will go on Saturday, if that’s okay.”
“And where will you be staying?”
“I booked the Four Seasons penthouse so that I’m the only room on the entire floor. Nobody will be able to get in without a key.” I smile to myself. “See, I really do listen to you.”
“Okay.” He inhales again, and I can imagine him leaning back in his chair. “Are you really all right, Charlotte?”
My eyes fill with tears, because I honestly don’t know if I am. “Missing Mum,” I confess in a whisper.
“Me, too, darling. Me, too.”
We stay silent on the line, both lost in our own grief.
I smile sadly. “Thanks, Dad. I love you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I love you, dear. Sleep well.”
After hanging up, I make my way to the kitchen and put the kettle on. That wasn’t a hard phone call, after all. However, the next one definitely will be, and if I know anything for certain, it’s that Edward will call me in approximately fifteen minutes and begin freaking out.
My phone begins to vibrate on the kitchen bench, the name Edward lighting up the screen. Five minutes—a new record time.
“Hello, Edward.”
“Charlotte, what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to London.”
“Why?”
“I have to work.”
“Send someone else instead.”
“I can’t, I need to do this.”
“I’ll come home and go with you. I’ll only be a week.”
“Edward,” I sigh, exasperated. “I’m fine. I’ll be with Elizabeth.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better. Beth is out of control.”
I get a flashback of him from the other night, and I want to blurt out the question, Are you sleeping with Lara? Why is it a secret from me? but I hold my tongue.
“Where will you be staying?” he asks abruptly.
“The Four Seasons penthouse. The only room on the floor.”
“You’ve spoken to Anthony?”
“Yes, Anthony can come, and so can Wyatt.”
“Hmm.”
“It’s just for work, Edward, and I’ll have the guards with me the entire time.”
“I don’t like this.”
“I know you don’t, but you can’t stop me going. Dad said it was okay. I’m going to London for work, not Ibiza to party. Lighten up.”