by Holly Rayner
It’s awful, but that all depends on a guy. I never saw myself moving or staying anywhere for a man, but things are different here. I love Sterling already, but I can’t become a full-time resident if Kal and I aren’t on good terms.
“Let’s get you to work,” I say, closing my laptop. “I’ll bring some stuff to do. Maybe a book or some journaling will distract me.”
Since Magnolia drove over, we head out in her car, and it’s instinctual to glance at Kal’s house as we go by it.
The home of a prince.
Out of all the reasons I imagined Kal might have for being secretive, that’s the last one I could have come up with. Turns out, truth really can be stranger than fiction.
Chapter 15
Julia
At the coffee shop, I take a seat on the couch and flip through a book while Magnolia ties on her apron and takes over from the other barista. It’s slow in the place, with only one other customer sitting and reading and others coming in for a to-go drink maybe once every ten minutes.
After trying but failing to read the same page four times, I give up on the book and pull my laptop out instead. The temptation is too much.
The browser is still open to my search for Nikos Galanis, and I spend some time clicking around, my heart twisting around itself. This feels so wrong, looking up someone on the internet.
Especially when it’s a person who clearly has never liked attention. While there are plenty of photos of Nikos’ father and siblings at charity events and galas, there are very few of Nikos.
Not that he isn’t generous with his time or money. There are mentions of his showing up to help build schools and his donating large chunks of money to nonprofits, but in at least half of the photos I find he’s blocking his face with his hand.
The guy sitting nearby takes his book and departs the shop, leaving just me and Magnolia.
“A mocha to melt away your worries?” Magnolia takes a seat in the arm chair across from me and sets a wide-mouthed orange mug down.
Drawn into the top of the espresso and foam is a heart with an arrow through it. It’s probably Magnolia’s best latte art and is meant to cheer me up, but seeing it makes me want to cry.
It’s the perfect representation of what’s going on in my chest right now.
“That’s really pretty,” I say, blinking back tears and forcing a smile.
The door opens, and a woman with silver hair and a bright, multicolored scarf on comes in.
Magnolia jumps to standing. “Oh, hey, Peggy! Green tea?”
“Don’t you know it, hon.”
Peggy goes to the front counter while Magnolia makes her tea. Done driving myself crazy for now, I put the computer away and take a sip of the mocha.
Peggy is eyeing Kal’s painting. “How long has this been here for?” she asks Magnolia.
“Gosh, I don’t remember.” Magnolia puts a lid on the tea. “Weeks.”
“I never noticed it. It’s one of Kal’s, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Magnolia’s eyes flick toward me.
It’s as quick as any look can be, but Peggy notices it regardless. Drawing her wallet from her purse, she turns to look at me with interest. I keep fake-smiling and grab my notebook and a pen. Time to look busy.
Peggy pays for her tea, but she doesn’t leave the coffee shop. Instead, she comes right over to where I’m standing.
“You’re new in town, right?” She offers a hand, showing off a wrist covered in silver bangles.
“I’m only here for the summer.” I shake her hand. “Julia.”
“Peggy. Nice to meet you.”
“She’s my friend,” Magnolia calls across the coffee shop.
Peggy raises her eyebrows at me. “Oh? If you’re hanging around that one, I know you have to be interesting. Magnolia doesn’t waste her time with anyone even remotely boring.”
“I can believe that,” I say.
“And you know Kal Harris?”
I open my mouth, but it’s like the question has rendered me speechless.
Sure. I know the fake man who goes by that fake name.
After a moment, I get myself together enough to at least state a simple fact. “He lives next door to where I’m staying.”
“Such a nice man.” Peggy presses her palm against her chest.
“He… is.”
Peggy tilts her head like and purses her lips, like she doesn’t like what I’ve said.
“He really is,” she presses.
I feel my temperature rise. “Sure.”
There’s no point in getting into a discussion over how nice Kal is or isn’t. Clearly, we’ve had very different kinds of interactions with him.
I’m trying to at least pretend to agree with this woman. Has she not noticed I’m not in the best mood for this conversation?
Apparently not, because she keeps on going.
“When my husband got sick last year,” Peggy says, “Kal gave us five thousand dollars so we wouldn’t get behind on the mortgage. Just gave it to us. It was an anonymous donation—someone left the money in our mailbox—but I know it was him. My neighbor, Gina, saw him do it. And when I went to thank him, he acted like it wasn’t he who’d done it. I’ve tried to pay him back some, too, but he won’t have it. I don’t know where he got that money from. I suppose his business does real well. Heart of gold, that man. You best believe it. A heart of gold.”
I’m speechless again, my mouth hanging open.
Peggy nods affirmatively. “You have yourself a good night, Julia. See you around.”
Then she leaves the coffee shop, and I’m left reeling.
But not alone. Magnolia is already at my side, sitting on the arm of the couch.
“Did you hear that?” I ask.
“Yeah. Five thousand. Where’d he get that kind of money?”
“He’s a prince. It’s probably nothing to him.”
I stare at my lap. As much as I want to hate Kal for not only keeping a secret from me but also pushing me away when I asked for the truth, it’s impossible to do so after hearing that story.
“He doesn’t live like he has tons of money,” Magnolia comments. “That’s for sure.”
“I have to talk to him again,” I say. “A few hours to cool off is probably what we both need.”
“When?”
I look out the window at the hazy afternoon. “When do you close?”
“Seven.”
That’s right around Maya’s bedtime. Perfect timing.
“I’ll stay here till then,” I say. “I can even help you clean up, if you want.”
She looks at me like I have two heads. “You want to do that?”
“I need to stay busy.”
“Wow.” She takes the bar towel hanging from her apron pocket and flicks at me with it. “You’re even more generous than Kal. I mean Nikos.”
I scoff. “Not quite.”
Seven can’t come quick enough. While Magnolia stocks the whole-bean display and serves the occasional customer, I draw meaningless designs in my notebook and try not to text Kal.
If I ask via phone if we can talk again, he might say no, but if I show up there, my physical presence could sway him. Plus, I don’t trust myself to say the right thing. I’m hoping that the right words will come once we’re face to face.
When Magnolia turns the “open” sign to “closed,” I take the initiative and find my way to the broom closet. After sweeping like I was born for it, I mop every square inch of the shop’s floor.
“Wow,” Magnolia says from where she’s running water through the espresso machine to get out all the leftover grinds. “Are you sure you don’t want to work here?”
Eventually, there’s nothing left to do. Magnolia locks up for the night and we climb into her car. It’s not dark yet, but there’s a haze about town. Kids ride their bikes down the street, and everywhere I look there’s someone walking a dog.
“Right here is good,” I say, pointing at Kal’s house.
Magnolia sl
ows down. “Good luck… again.”
Despite the nausea, I laugh. “Yeah. Seriously.”
“Hey, if this doesn’t work, third time’s a charm.”
I shake my head as I climb from her car. “Trying three times to have an honest conversation with someone who doesn’t want to would probably make me certifiably crazy.”
We wave, and Magnolia drives off with a honk. Taking a deep breath, I head for Kal’s front door. I’m pretty sure Maya is already in bed, but just in case, I linger on his porch and listen.
There are no sounds coming from inside, though his car is in the drive.
While helping Magnolia clean the coffee shop, I worked out what I’ll say to him. Having a script helps. It makes me more confident that I can do this.
Raising a fist, I knock.
Everything is quiet. Holding my breath, I count the passing seconds. One… two… three… four…
Footsteps interrupt my mental dialogue.
The door opens, and Kal freezes.
His body is stiff, but there’s a softness to his eyes. He gazes into my face, saying nothing.
“Hi,” I start.
His throat rolls with a swallow. “Hello.”
“Can we talk?”
He lowers his face so that I can’t see his eyes. The silence becomes painful.
“Come inside,” he says softly. “Please.”
He steps to the side to allow me to enter and closes and locks the door after us.
“Tea?” he asks, walking for the kitchen. “I was just about to make some.”
“Sure.” I glance down the hall. Maya’s bedroom door is closed. Looks like I got my timing right after all.
In the kitchen, Kal fills up the tea kettle while I stand around. Even though I had dinner in this very room just the other night, I feel anything but comfortable in it.
The kettle on the stove, Kal leans his back against the counter and folds his arms.
“How is Maya?” I venture.
One side of his mouth twitches. “Well. She…”
“What?”
His jaw hardens. “She asked about you earlier. She wanted to know if you were coming over for dinner. I said that you were busy.”
My throat burns. “I helped Magnolia close down the coffee shop, so yeah, I was busy.”
Not that he invited me over. God, this small talk is awful.
“Hey, listen, I…”
Dang it. What happened to the speech I prepared? The one full of apologies and boundaries and respect?
“There is nothing to say,” he cuts in.
The ridiculousness of the response makes me scoff. “Are you serious? Nothing to say? Also, if there’s nothing to say, why did you let me come in just now?”
He rakes his fingers through his hair and looks to the side, away from me. “Because you’re a hard person to say no to.”
“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a compliment or an insult.”
“It means that I… you have a strong effect on me, Julia. One that cannot be denied.”
“You have the same effect on me,” I whisper.
His face turns to mine. We’re across the kitchen from each other, but the intensity of his look wraps around me. My lips tingle as if he’s kissing them, and I sway on my feet.
“It has been a long time since a woman impacted me so,” he says. “Almost long enough that I forgot what it could be like.”
“Is it a bad or good thing?”
“I like to believe it is good.” He wears the ghost of a smile. It may be hardly there, but I’ll take it.
“It’s been a long time for me, too,” I say. “Since before my mom passed. Way before then.”
“I have nothing against you, Julia. Please understand that. I want you in my life.”
“I do, too,” I say. “That’s why I can’t just walk away. I tried, but I couldn’t.”
He leaves his post against the counter and comes toward me, but it’s not close enough. He’s still a foot away. I need to feel him against me.
“What now?” he asks. “Can we move on from all of this nonsense and start fresh?”
“Nonsense?” I cry. It’s out of my mouth before I know what’s happening.
How on earth can he call the recent events “nonsense”?
“What are you talking about?” I ask faintly.
His brows knit. “You know what I’m referring to.”
I cross my arms, the possibility of a romantic moment dissipating like it was nothing more than a wisp of smoke.
Goodbye prepared speech. Goodbye keeping my calm and not losing my temper.
“I’m sorry I opened your mail,” I say. “I really am, though let me point out again that it was an accident.”
His face turns red. “You didn’t have to read it.”
“And yet I did, and I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Yes,” I snap. “I am, whether you believe me or not. But you know what? That’s not the point here. I read the letter, and I asked you about what was in it, and you flat out lied to me.”
He shakes his head, but he has nothing to say. He can’t deny the truth, and we both should know this, but for some reason he’s still acting like he might get away with doing so.
“I went online,” I say, “and it didn’t take long for me to get information.”
Something animalistic flashes in his eyes.
“Are you Nikos, the missing prince of Kalista?” I ask.
His face quickly morphs into something cold and callous. It could be cut from stone for all the emotion on it.
“Excuse me?” he asks.
“Nikos,” I say, slower and softer this time, testing out the name.
There’s a twitch next to his eye. “You snooped around on the internet?”
He still hasn’t answered my question. Of course, I don’t need him to. I already know he’s Nikos. But, God, I just want him to acknowledge it.
“Julia,” he says, “that is unbelievable. First you go into my mail, and then you stalk me online. What you have done is a violation of any trust we might have been building between us.”
The words are a punch to my gut, the worst he’s thrown at me so far.
“Trust?” I hiss. “You want to talk about trust? How can I build trust with you when I don’t even know who you are? I understand what it’s like to want to leave your past behind, but—”
“That is not what is happening here,” he interrupts. “Your life is very different from mine, Julia. I am dreadfully sorry about your mother, but it is… it is not the same.”
He’d been about to reveal something. I can feel it.
“Then what is going on here?” I ask, forcing my voice to soften. We won’t get anywhere fast yelling at each other, and I don’t want to risk waking Maya.
“You have a fake identity,” I say. “Why? Are you running from someone? Are you in danger?”
“No,” he says through gritted teeth.
I spread my palms. “Then what’s up?”
He does that thing again that I hate terribly: looks down so I can’t see his eyes.
Kal inhales slowly, finally looking up at me. His lips turn upward a bit. Is he changing his approach? Is he finally ready to come clean?
“You’re wasting your time,” he says. “People have commented before on the resemblance between me and that Nikos prince, but I am not him.”
My stomach plummets. How does he think he can still get away with this lie?
“I saw the letter,” I whisper. “It was your address. It was to a Nikos, from a woman called Thea. How—”
“This is the end of our conversation,” he says. “And the end of your foolish pursuit of what you only believe to be truth. Since you seem hell-bent on not backing off, it’s probably best if Maya and I cut ties with you completely.”
The room spins.
“Are you kidding me?” I breathe.
“Why would I joke about such a serious matter?”
“This
is silly. Please, just—”
Again, he cuts into my words. “Please leave.”
He takes a step back. The foot of space he creates between us feels as big as the Grand Canyon.
“It is time for you to go,” he says, nothing but ice in his eyes.
I have no choice.
With heavy feet and a heavy heart, I walk for the side door. Right before I open it, I turn to look at him one last time.
“If you change your mind,” I say, “you know where to find me.”
You would think he’s frozen solid were it not for the fact that he’s still blinking.
“Goodbye, Julia,” he says.
I nod. Talking might mean crying.
Out into the night I go, full of the kind of disappointment that you think should kill you, but that you know you’re only doomed to suffer through for a long, long time.
Chapter 16
Julia
It’s a sleepless night. The tossing and turning feels like it will never end. Twice, I get up to go downstairs, thinking it’s for a glass of water, but I only end up standing at the window, staring at Kal’s dark house.
Did he mean what he said? He never wants to see me again?
Or maybe he wants to, but he really does think it’s for the best if it never happens.
That second option is worse. It means I really am an awful person.
Seeing as I’ve only done all this in an effort to get closer to him, that’s a real blow to my spirit.
After forcing myself to stay in bed a few more hours, since at least resting there—even if I can’t sleep—should do me some good, I rise with the sun. I put on a pair of jogging shorts and my running shoes, but then end up pacing around the house.
Kal’s car is already gone.
Weird.
Over a bowl of cereal that I’ve mostly been picking at, I glance at the clock on the kitchen wall. Is he normally out for the day this early?
He must have left while I was getting dressed. Or still in bed.
With a sigh, I put my cereal bowl in the sink. This is getting obsessive.
Maybe a run is exactly what I need.
Instead of my usual route along the river, I shake things up by jogging into downtown. I make my way up and down several streets, and though I’m trying my hardest not to think about Kal, it’s pretty difficult when I stumble upon a sign that says “Harris Woodworking Studios.”