by Michele Hauf
The waiter approached to take their orders, and Natalie released the anxious breath she’d been holding.
“A tall mocha to start, and then a smoked salmon salad with a pink lemonade,” the princess ordered, and Natalie requested the same. “And take the orders for that table, too. We’re together,” Charlene told the waiter.
Gretchen whimpered, and the nanny immediately stood and rubbed her hands with a moist wipe. “Shall I take her?”
“Yes. First remove her coat. She had a feeding in the car. She’ll be quiet while we have lunch.” The nanny lifted the baby from the stroller and peeled off the warm faux-fur coat, leaving her in an adorable pink dress and matching leggings with soft knitted slippers.
“She’s so pretty,” Natalie exclaimed as Gretchy kicked her legs, happy to be out of the stroller.
The waiter set the mochas in front of them. They had a sip and then Charlene relaxed against her chair, her child and the nanny within the scope of her eyes. “I wanted to congratulate you on your wonderful performance,” she started.
Natalie braced herself, feeling there was much more to come. “Thank you. I enjoyed it tremendously myself.” She remembered Charlene’s warning not to hurt Eric and added, “I dedicated the dance to Eric and expressed my feelings through my dance.”
“And you did a great job at it. I was talking about you with Amy, and she said she’d love to see you dancing.”
“Amy?” Natalie had no idea who she was talking about.
“My sister-in-law, Paul’s wife. They’re both flying in to preside over the DIF Annual Ball, where we invite our important clients, mostly from the USA. This year, a few crowned heads are coming from the Scandinavian countries. Usually Philip and Lydia act as hosts, but with a one-month-old baby, they won’t be able to travel yet.”
“I see.” Natalie wondered where Charlene’s speech was leading.
“Eric must have talked to you about the ball.”
“Vaguely. He said it was for the clients and VIPs, not for the employees.”
Charlene arched her eyebrows in a taut and derisive way. “Well, he’ll be invited for sure, and he’d better come. I’m quite upset at the rift between him and Paul. The ball is a good place for them to mend their fences. Paul is making the effort of flying all the way here, so Eric had better attend the ball, keep a civil tongue, and shake hands and even hug my brother,” Charlene said in a tense, clipped voice, betraying her nervousness.
“Ah... Oh.” Not sure how she was expected to react, Natalie prudently kept her mouth shut. The old squabbles of this titled family were none of her business.
The waiter set their salads and glasses in front of them.
“Bon appétit.” Charlene tasted her salad. “Delicious. Now, Amy had suggested we ask you to do the entertainment.”
“Me?” Natalie choked on her lemonade. For heaven’s sake, leave me out of your troubles. I have enough problems of my own.
“Yes, Amy and Paul want to see you performing. Can I count on you to present a couple of dances?”
“Huh... huh... Can I talk to Eric about it?”
“No. It should be your decision, your response.” The answer was brisk, not allowing any protest. “You said you love to dance, and DIF pays well. I’m offering you the unique opportunity to dance in front of a throng of very powerful people. They’ll probably enjoy your talent, and who knows, some may have the right connections and open doors for you. If not, you’ve got nothing to lose, and you’ll make good money in a few minutes.”
The word money threw Natalie off kilter. Princess Charlene had helped her without hesitation and treated her generously from the moment Natalie and her brother had arrived in Boston. Natalie owed her a lot—her three jobs, Brian’s schooling, Ken’s driving, and so much moral support. She’d often wondered how she could repay or even thank the bighearted princess. Maybe this was her chance.
“I will dance at your ball. But please, don’t talk about paying me. It’s something I’d like to do for you and your family.”
Charlene considered her for a few seconds, her gaze sharp and assessing. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I won’t accept a penny. All I have right now, I owe it to you. Allow me to say thank you in a way that agrees with you.”
“In that case, I’m glad we have a deal.”
“Can I tell Eric about it?”
“Of course.” Charlene chuckled. “He’s going to grumble for sure, but he’ll be there. For you, he’ll come. And he’ll finally make peace with my brother. My grandmother Catherine was dreaming of seeing her grandchildren reconciled. I’m doing this in her memory.” Charlene’s beautiful green eyes filled with tears.
Holding her hand out, Natalie smiled warmly. “I’ll help you. I’ll try to soothe Eric.”
Swiftly recovering her calm demeanor, Charlene shook Natalie’s hand and burst out laughing. “I think my young cousin found the right woman. I’ll tell Amy you agreed to dance. The save the date cards were mailed last week. The official invitations will be sent next week.”
“When is the ball?”
“The Saturday after Thanksgiving. And by the way, I’d like you to be with us for an early Thanksgiving dinner at four o’clock. Come at two, and Brian will have time to play with my boys.”
“Will Prince Paul be here for Thanksgiving?”
“No. They’ll arrive the day after and stay at their condo, same building as Philip’s. Amy is a medical graduate from Harvard and a pediatrician still practicing. She’s also the Minister of Health and Wellness on Rensy Island. You’ll enjoy chatting with her.”
As if she could voice two words to a real, reigning princess without stuttering.
“Should I wait until Eric receives the invitation to...” Her voice hitched, and she bit her lip at her new dilemma. “Or should I tell him now about my dancing at the ball?”
“Up to you, my dear.” A flash of humor crossed the princess’s face. “I would assume that by now you’d know how to handle your boyfriend.”
Natalie huffed, already worrying that the anticipated ball and all it encompassed might affect her newfound bliss in the wrong way.
Baby Gretchen’s whimpering prevented her from answering.
Signaling the end of the lunch, Charlene stood. “We’d better go home now.” She took her baby, slipped her into her coat, and kept her in her arms to soothe her. “Bob, can you get the car?”
“Right away.” He left, and Ken paid the bill while the nanny brought their coats.
Ten minutes later, they dropped Natalie at the Ballet Sanctuary for her evening classes.
“What’s wrong?” Eric asked for the second time.
Natalie had been lying on her bed, in his arms, and instead of gazing lovingly into his eyes, as she’d done every night for the last week, she was eyeing the ceiling as if she planned to throw a punch at it.
“And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’”
She glanced at him, opened her mouth, and closed it.
“Damn it, what happened at your ballet schools?”
“Oh, nothing wrong there.”
“Then what? You said you had a great time with Charlene. Plus she’s not one to upset anybody. Or am I wrong for a change?” he added after capturing Natalie’s gaze.
She inhaled and exhaled. “Okay, I’ll tell you the whole story.”
“Damn, there’s a whole bad story behind your scowling?”
“No, not like that. I’m not sure how to start.”
He propped himself on his elbow and studied her. “Start at the beginning.”
“Well, there’s a DIF ball the Saturday after Thanksgiving.”
“Seriously, Natalie?” He threw a hand up. “I work at DIF. Don’t you think I know that?”
“Huh...yes, of course. And Prince Paul and his wife are coming to preside. And I will present two dances to entertain the guests. Voila,” she recited in one breath.
“No, you won’t.” He bolted up and sat, legs crossed, eyeing her.
“I’ll call her.” He blurted out the words impatiently.
“Eric, please—”
“No, you try to understand. Paul is coming. I don’t want to see him. Don’t want to talk to him. Don’t want to hear his name.”
“Eric—”
“There are things you don’t know. Terrible family secrets.” Images from the past rushed back from his memory, obscuring his view. He brushed a hand over his face to release the stress.
She sat and snuggled against him. “Tell me, Eric.”
Maybe he should. She’d understand.
His eyes fixed straight ahead, he remembered the somber details and talked about the plane accident that had claimed his uncle and aunt’s lives. The terrible accusation hurled by his cousin Paul after a former employee of his father was arrested and accused Prince Thomas of ordering the sabotage of his brother’s private plane. Ten more people died in the accident. Their grandparents, Prince Edward and Princess Catherine, had refused to believe that their younger son would order such a crime.
“My father was incensed by the accusation and swore he’d never forgive Paul. He gathered his family and ordered us to pack the minimum. The next day, we flew to Boston, with almost nothing. Dad vowed to never set foot on Rensy Island again. We were all crying and didn’t stop during the flight and for the first month in Boston. We went from a mansion to a three-bedroom apartment. But the most horrible part was not to see our cousins again. They were our best friends.”
“Your grandparents didn’t try to mend the rift?”
“They tried. Grandpa Edward regularly wrote to my father, and Dad answered every letter. And Grandma Catherine came to visit twice.”
“Your father didn’t go back?”
“Never. Not even when his accuser confessed the whole truth on his death bed. He’d been fired by my uncle for dealing drugs and applied for a job with my father, who refused to hire him. Infuriated, he conceived his diabolical plan to take a revenge on both brothers.”
“Oh, God.”
“My father refused to go back for his mother’s funeral, but my two older sisters went. Dad was killed two years later. Philip and Charlene came to pay their respects and make peace with us. They insisted we should return to Rensy Island, but it was too late for my mother, who was sick. I can’t forgive Paul for suspecting my father of such a horrible crime.”
“How old was Paul at the time?” Natalie asked.
“Seventeen.”
“Just a teenager who’d been devastated by the double deaths of his mom and dad, and didn’t know how to contain his anger and distress.”
“Are you defending him?” Eric snapped.
“No, but I was a very angry teenager too at that age, after my dad died and Mom married Jonah. Eric, Charlene told me that Paul is using the DIF ball as an excuse to come and make peace with you.”
“Never. My parents’ lives were ruined because of him.”
“Now you’re talking like Paul at the time he lost his parents. Your parents suffered because of the horrible drama.”
“Are you siding with him?”
“No. Never.” She cupped his face between her hands. “I love you, Eric.”
He frowned. “Is that your way of cheering me up?”
“My way of telling you how important you are to me. I want to see you happy, free of the anger and resentment eating at you.”
“Don’t even try.”
“What if Paul apologizes, explains that he’s sorry? Would you make an effort, not to forgive, but to let go of your anger?”
“Would you forgive Jonah and talk to him again?”
“Maybe in a few years, when I know that Brian is not suffering from any lingering pain or effects of his mistreatment. At that time, I may talk to him if he needs me.”
“You’re a better person than I am.”
“Think about it, Eric. Your family suffered a lot. But their family suffered even more. There were two little girls who grew up without their mommy. Like Brian. Look at what it did to him.”
Eric met her gaze and caught her meaning. The loss of his mother had almost destroyed Brian.
“Charlene said that she and Paul and Amy want to see your family united again, to honor your grandmother Catherine’s last wish.”
“My grandmother Catherine’s last wish?” He dropped his head between his palms, ruminating on that thought. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight. Maybe I’ll go back to the office.”
“No, stay with me. Can you run a bath in your tub?”
“You want to have a soak? Now?”
She nodded. “I want you to help me relax and lather my back. And I’ll lather yours in return.”
“You’re on.” He grinned, determined to forget the painful memories in Natalie’s arms.
15
The next day, Natalie called Charlene. “I talked to Eric. He told me the whole story.”
A gasp carried over the line. “He told you? Wow, he must really love you.”
Natalie didn’t suppress her radiant smile. “I think so.”
“And?”
“He said he needs time. To honor his grandmother’s last wish, he’s ready to study the situation again and analyze his feelings. Now I think it would help if your brother explains his feelings and maybe apologizes.”
The few seconds of silence alerted her she’d been too blunt. Talking to a princess about her royal brother necessitated a few precautions.
“I’m sorry if I—”
“You’re absolutely right,” Charlene answered. “You’ve done your best to mellow Eric. Now it’s up to Amy to convince Paul that he should apologize. Thank you, Natalie. I appreciate your effort. Would you like to go shopping with me next Thursday? We both need new evening gowns for the ball.”
Natalie suppressed a sigh of annoyance. Shopping with Charlene would be a waste of time. Natalie couldn’t afford the designer boutiques favored by the princess, and Charlene wouldn’t approve of any dress bought in a discount store. Yet to please her sophisticated friend, she agreed to meet her next Thursday.
“An absolute waste of time,” Natalie later confided to Eric when they locked the door of his bedroom. “I refused to let her buy me any outfit. And she refused to step into the two malls I favor. If I have to wear designer clothes, next week I’ll visit a consignment store secretly.”
Eric laughed. “You’re beautiful in any dress, and even more beautiful without any clothes. Let me show you.” He pushed her onto the bed and insisted on proving his point.
But two days later, Charlene called again. She had a fantastic idea and wanted Natalie to visit, if possible. With a sigh of frustration, Natalie skipped the ice-skating afternoon and asked Ken to drive her to the Pratts’. Charlene showed her five fabulous dresses that didn’t fit her anymore.
“I still have too much baby fat. By the time I lose it, these dresses will be out of fashion. I wore each one two or three times, which is more than enough for these evening clothes. I was about to give them away. They’re all yours if you like them.”
“I love them.” Natalie couldn’t stop gawking at the expensive dresses.
“My favorite is the red one.” A long lace dress in three shades of red. “But we’ll ask my seamstress to cut the trail that’s not fashionable anymore and use the material to make long, tight sleeves.”
Natalie didn’t bother to discuss it. Charlene was the queen of fashion, and she trusted her good taste.
“This is your first high-society ball. I want you to feel comfortable and confident. With your beauty and figure, you’ll match and surpass any woman in elegance.”
Delighted not to have to worry about her ball outfit, Natalie hugged her and thanked her. “You’re so nice and generous.”
A week later, two similar envelopes landed in Eric’s mailbox with
two invitations for the DIF ball addressed to Prince Eric Devereux and Ms. Natalie Borikev. The cards not only specified the day, time, and address of the hall, but also announced that entertainment would be presented by Ms. Natalie Borikev.
Talk about publicity. Natalie couldn’t wish for a better advertisement.
Yet Eric hadn’t decided if he’d attend the ball.
On Thanksgiving Day, they gathered at Charlene’s house. Brian played with the twins and related his scores in soccer and basketball to Dr. Pratt.
As usual, the intimate family dinner was delicious. Right after dessert, Charlene’s phone chimed, and she excused herself. A moment later, she resumed her place. Eric’s phone rang. He dug it from his pocket, frowned at the screen, and left the room, saying “Be back in a minute.”
Biting on her lower lip, Charlene faced Natalie. “Paul is talking to Eric.”
“Ah...oh.” Her eyes glued to the door through which he’d disappeared, Natalie waited, her heart pounding.
When he returned fifteen minutes later, his cool, aloof manner didn’t betray any emotion. He focused on his dessert, silently savoring a piece of pecan pie à la mode and another of pumpkin pie, as if it were his most important task of his day.
When Scott offered an after-dinner drink, Eric declined, his eyes flashing with impatience. “I think it’s time to go home.”
They thanked Charlene and Scott, hugged the children, and left in Eric’s Porsche. Silence hovered in the sports car. He’d probably wait to be alone with her before sharing the important call.
At the condo, Brian declared himself too tired and went to bed right away.
Natalie changed into her nightie and robe and waited, giving Eric time to collect himself and sort out whatever was bothering him.
Half an hour later, he still hadn’t shown up.
Exasperated and concerned, she shuffled to his room and then to the kitchen. He wasn’t there. She found him in the living room, still in his day clothes, typing on his laptop at his desk.
“Eric, is something wrong?”