Royally Crushed: A Crazy Royal Love, Book 1
Page 6
“I'm not going to bed,” she says, looking slightly disgusted. “I’m going to get into my lucky pantsuit. It's poker night.”
“Right. Of course it is,” I say with a smile. “I hope I have as much fun as you when I’m … slightly older.”
“I highly doubt it. You're not even thirty and you don't have it now.” She pats me on the cheek. “Would you like to come with me? It's a $500 buy-in, and the guys down in the garage are a real hoot. You'd love them.”
“Thank you, but I'm afraid I have the world's worst poker face. You'd clean me out in under an hour.”
Gran grins up at me. “Don't be silly, dear. I’d clean you out much faster than that.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime, dear.” She opens the door to her apartment and steps inside. When she turns to shut it, she says, “I'm just teasing, of course. But I want you to think about what I said today. Make your own way in this world.”
“I will, Gran.”
“Promise me you’ll take the next big risk that comes your way. Just do it without thinking. Have a little fun in your young life.”
“I'll try.”
“You can do better than that.”
* * *
When I get back to my apartment, the smell of lavender tickles my nostrils. The lights have been dimmed by Delilah, my weekend maid, and I know she has drawn me a bath and prepared some chamomile tea to help me unwind. The moment we left the reception, our driver would have called the head butler who notifies the rest of the staff.
I undress and step into the enormous white tub. As I sink into the hot water, I suddenly feel silly about all my whining. This life comes with some wonderful perks. Like this moment, right now.
I lay my head back against the bath pillow and close my eyes, but instead of feeling relaxed, I find myself feeling slightly tipsy and very restless. I smile and touch my lips with one finger as I think about my conversation with Will Banks. I definitely channeled Gran in my saucy responses to him. And the look of horror on his face when he realized who I was—priceless. I let out a laugh at the memory. I can see why Arthur has a man crush on him—he's positively dreamy. The way all those muscles filled in that tuxedo, that strong jawline, and his gorgeous eyes the color of perfectly brewed coffee. Devastatingly dreamy. Sigh …
I wonder what kind of woman he would want. Probably someone totally kickass like his sister—although not exactly like his sister because that would be eww. But someone adventurous, I'm sure, and brave, like the wife of the late Crocodile Hunter. Now those two were a great match. Will needs to find his Terri.
Although he was certainly attracted to me, wasn’t he? He obviously wanted to sleep with me. But that was before he knew who I was. He probably thought I was some super fun woman who goes rock climbing on the weekends, then showers and goes out clubbing all night. Now that he knows the truth, he wouldn’t be interested at all.
I slap the water with both hands and watch as it ripples to the end of the tub, then comes back. Why couldn’t I be Terri Irwin instead of boring old me?
I try to picture myself grappling up a mountainside, but even in my mind, I slip and plummet to the earth below. I’m not now and never will be the cool, adventurous type, so I might as well forget all about Mr. Tall, Dark and Daring. I sink deeper into the water, trying to find something else to fill my mind.
I end up thinking about Pierce and his vows to Emma. The look on her face is burned into my mind—she seemed so sure it's all going to work out. Like absolutely positive, as though their love is an undeniable fact. And all those things Pierce said about her driving a speedboat and diving into the ocean to catch lobsters with her bare hands? My heavens! I can’t even imagine doing that. But, that’s the kind of woman men want—daring and fun and carefree. Someone who owns a bikini and has a killer serve. I’m like a middle-aged woman with a boring wardrobe and the world’s most boring personality to match. Which is why I have to forget all about Will Banks immediately.
His gorgeous face pops back into my mind. Oh, who am I kidding? I can’t forget about him this fast. I’ll need at least a few days of fantasizing first. I dry my hands and pluck my mobile phone off the side of the tub, then Google Will Banks. Mmm … there's an entire website devoted to his show called Will’s Wild Fangirls. They have a most comprehensive photo album of his greatest hits—and by that, I mean a bunch of pictures of him with no shirt on. Yum. I wouldn't kick him off the throne for eating crackers. When I get to the end of the photos, I reach the blog section. Let's see what his stalker has to say.
ABN Searching for Wild World Co-host
Hello fellow fangirls,
I am not sure whether I'm happy or devastated to bring this news, but it seems as though the geniuses over at ABN have decided to add a female co-host to The Wild World for season three (which is set to start filming in the next few weeks). I'd be thrilled if they chose me—and believe me, I was likely the first person to apply. I'll be wrecked if they don't pick me, opting for some skanky ho instead.
My sources at ABN tell me they’re looking for someone to help spice up the format a bit, although if you ask me, Will alone is spicy enough for this blogger. Applications will be open for another three days, but don’t even think about applying because this is my destiny. Seriously, don’t bother because this one's mine, ladies.
Peace Out Bitches,
The Future Mrs. Will Banks
“Well, Gran, I think I may have just found a big risk to which I’ll say yes,” I mutter. “And to you, the future Ms. Jailbird Stalker, you're about to have one more skanky ho with whom to compete.” Although I don't know how many skanky hos use phrases like ‘with whom.’ Whatever. I’m going for it.
No, I shouldn’t. That’s insane. And I’m drunk.
I put my phone down and slide under the water until the top of my head is soaked. But, I did promise Gran, didn’t I?
And it would be very wrong of me to break a promise.
Sitting up, I pat my hands and face dry with my towel, then grab my phone again. I search my contacts and text Kira Taylor, one of the directors of unscripted television and a fellow board member of Avonian Women in The Arts.
Kira, I'm looking to shake things up a little. Have you found a co-host for Will Banks yet?
It doesn't take more than twenty seconds for me to get a reply. Are you serious? Because if you're serious, the job is yours.
I grin and duck under the water to scream like an excited Julia Roberts as Pretty Woman.
What can I say? Royalty has its privileges.
8
A Flurry of Uninformative Information
Will
Email to Will Banks cc. Dwight Anderson, Victor Petty, Kira Taylor, Toshiro Fukuhara, Callum MacKenzie
From: Dylan Sinclair
Subject Line: INCREDIBLE NEWS - TOP SECRET!!!
Good Morning All!
I have what is quite possibly the most epically amazing news you will ever receive. Last night, we snagged one of the biggest celebrities in the entire kingdom for the show. The contract has been signed and she's good to go! In the interest of great television, I am not sharing her identity with you because the big reveal is a thrilling moment that needs to be caught on film. Suffice it to say, you are going to flip when you find out who I've managed to secure.
She's so big, we may need to alter the name of the show—but I won't tell you what I'm thinking of just yet because it will spoil the surprise.
Here’s our new format:
1) We pick you up and zip you to the airport where you will fly to an undisclosed location. You take nothing with you (other than your enthusiasm).
2) You will then meet your co-host—on film.
3) We reveal the new rules of the show.
4) The two of you hop into a waiting helicopter that will drop you into the wilderness fitted with GoPros.
5) You two work together to find your way back to civilization using only the tools and equipment provided.
Since I've a
lso managed to get an incredible advertising deal from GoPro, this show is making money and we haven't even started yet. See? Thrilling, right?
Also, the new format sidesteps that little issue of me having no directing experience. As I got farther along in the Ron Howard Master Class, I realized there may be more to the whole thing than I thought. There will be extensive post-production work in editing, etc., but not to worry because there is literally no way this plan can fail. We’ll only need Tosh and Mac at the first location, then they’ll wait in town to film you when you arrive. It’ll just be Will, our gorgeously fabulous celebrity, and your wits.
Let the games begin!
Dylan
P.S. A car will pick you up next Friday at six a.m. sharp to take you to the airport. Make sure you don't shave.
* * *
Text from me to Dwight: Please call me immediately regarding Dylan's ridiculous plan.
Dwight: In an important client meeting at the moment. The answers to your questions are as follows: 1) No, you can't, 2) Yes, you must, 3) There is no such clause, and, 4) Don't even think about it if you want to have a career beyond today.
* * *
Email to Dylan Sinclair, cc. Dwight Anderson, Victor Petty, Kira Taylor, Toshiro Fukuhara, Callum MacKenzie
From: Will Banks
Subject Line: RE: INCREDIBLE NEWS - TOP SECRET!!!
Dylan,
Thanks for your enthusiasm about this project. However, I do have a few major concerns.
1) For obvious safety reasons, I require an in-depth knowledge of where we’re going, including which plants are edible vs. poisonous, what types of dangerous animals we’ll be facing, etc.
2) I cannot in good conscience take an inexperienced person out into the wilderness unprepared. That would put both our lives at risk, and I’m not sure, but I’d guess that one or both of us dying won’t make for great television. Maybe Victor and/or Kira can comment on that.
Regards,
Will
* * *
Email to Will Banks, cc. Dwight Anderson, Victor Petty, Kira Taylor, Toshiro Fukuhara, Callum MacKenzie
From: Dylan Sinclair
Subject Line: RE: RE: INCREDIBLE NEWS - TOP SECRET!!!
Will,
You are SO right. Death does not make for good reality television. It would totally ‘kill’ the sex vibe we’re going for. Also, we’d NEVER put your lives at risk! Trust me when I say any and all safety precautions have been taken. We’ll be using a location you’re personally familiar with, so not to worry.
You’ll be given all the supplies needed to survive in this environment. Even though your co-host doesn’t have a great deal of experience in the wilderness, she’s had years of managing difficult situations. Trust me, nothing can possibly go wrong.
Ciao,
Dylan
* * *
Email to Will Banks, cc. Dwight Anderson, Kira Taylor, Toshiro Fukuhara, Callum MacKenzie, Dylan Sinclair
From: Victor Petty
Subject Line: RE: RE: RE: INCREDIBLE NEWS - TOP SECRET!!
Will,
To reiterate what Dylan is saying, we at ABN would never put any of our employees’ lives at risk. We’re committed to upholding the highest safety and wellness standards for every member of the ABN family, so please relax and enjoy this new adventure.
We’ve got you covered,
Victor
* * *
Text from Dwight to me: Sounds like they’ve got it all under control. Have a wonderful trip!
Me: You better hope they do because you won’t make any money from my corpse.
9
Awful P.R. People and the Princesses Who Hate Them
Arabella
It’s Tuesday morning. Gran and I are having an early breakfast in the warmth of the solarium before we both begin our various functions for the rest of the day. The servers have finally left so we can speak freely among the lush, exotic greenery. Since Saturday night, I’ve been waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell her about my gargantuan secret, needing us to be completely alone and for her to be in a mood that lends itself to helping her youngest grandchild. And if there’s anything that puts Gran in a generous frame of mind, it’s eggs Benedict day. It’s her favourite meal, but since her heart attack, she can only eat it once a month. Lucky for me, today is that day.
I wait until she’s had a few bites and her face has settled into a satisfied bliss before I speak up. “Gran, remember the other day when you told me to make this life my own and to take the next big risk that comes my way?”
Raising one eyebrow, Gran puts down her fork and knife. “What did you do?”
Oh dear. The raised eyebrow is never a good sign. “Before I tell you I need you to promise you won’t say a word to Father—or anyone else, for that matter.”
“I'll make no such promise.”
“Fine.” I shrug as though the conversation is over, then slice into a strawberry and take a small bite.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll go straight to your father and let him know you’re keeping a secret that will likely prove to be catastrophic.”
I’m about to say, ‘you wouldn’t,’ when I realize she most certainly would. I let out a sigh. “Do you remember that Will Banks fellow at the wedding? The one Tessa was teasing Arthur about?”
“The James Bond-esque man you were shamelessly flirting with at the champagne fountain?”
“I wasn’t flirting,” I say, feeling my cheeks warm. “And even if I was flirting a little, I would never do so in a shameless manner.”
“You absolutely were. Now, out with it. What did you do?”
“You’ll recall Mr. Banks hosts a nature documentary, and I thought it might be exciting to serve as a … co-host.” I pop a tiny piece of honeydew into my mouth and attempt to chew it casually. “I think it would be a real confidence boost, which is exactly what you said I needed—an opportunity to spread my wings and test my mettle.”
Sitting back in her chair, Gran runs her tongue over her front teeth. “Are you insane? You know you’re not permitted to hold a job.”
“What if all the money goes directly to charity?” I take a sip of tea. “In that case, it’s not a job, but a charitable act—and a considerable one at that, I might add.”
“As fun as that sounds, and as attractive as Mr. Banks is, this is entirely out of the question. There is no way the powers that be will allow it.”
“Yes, I know,” I say, my heart pounding in my chest. “That’s why I already signed the contract.”
Gran’s jaw drops, and she stares at me. For what may be the first time in her eighty-seven years, she seems speechless.
“I leave on Thursday for filming in a secret location. I’ll be gone for a week, maybe two, then I’ll come home and get back to business as usual, only I’ll have shown the world I’m not nearly as soft as they believe me to be.”
“A secret location? What is that supposed to mean?”
“Somewhere secret,” I answer.
“Where? Here in Avonia?”
“I don’t think so. The show generally films in rather … remote places like Antarctica or the Amazon rainforest.”
Tilting her head, she says, “So, you’re expecting to up and disappear in two days? Just wipe your schedule of everything, leaving all those foundations in the lurch—with no notice—so you can go off gallivanting in the wilderness with some man we don’t know from Adam.”
“I’m sure it can all be sorted out. Tessa and Arthur could each take on a few of my events … and I thought you might be willing to help, since this was your idea in the first place.”
“It most certainly was not! I meant paint your nails dark green or … or wear three-inch heels and see if you can get away with it. Not go live out in the wilderness somewhere eating bugs and trekking through swamp-infested, disease-ridden forests and contract malaria while simultaneously humiliating the family.”
“Oh.” My shoulders drop. “I thought you meant a real risk.”
“Well for you, green nail polish would’ve been a real risk. You're quite possibly the most sheltered and conservative person I've ever met. Why would you even consider this?”
He's cute. And he made me laugh. “You told me to do something big.”
Pursing her lips, Gran says, “Do you mean someone big?”
“Gran!”
“Oh please. Tell me the thought didn’t cross your mind. He’s hot as hell.”
“Is he?” I shrug, picking up my teacup. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Right, and I’ve just been chosen to be the next team captain for Valcourt United.”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “It doesn’t matter how handsome he is because I’m not looking for love. I’m looking for adventure, for some freedom for a change.” I pick at my mushroom galette with my fork, suddenly feeling full. “Besides, I’d never be interested in some man who fancies himself to be Tarzan and goes around eating grubs like they’re popping corn. This is about proving myself to the family and showing that I can handle difficult challenges and …”
“… And seeing what Tarzan has under his loincloth.”
I sit back in my chair and lift my chin. “Since you seem to fancy him so much, maybe you should do the show.”
“It’s not the show I’d want to do. Besides, with my heart condition, I suppose I’ll have to leave him for you. Although, that would be quite a nice way to go out …”
I laugh and shake my head. “You’re terrible.”
“I’m honest,” she says, picking up her fork and knife again. “And to be honest, this is without a doubt the worst idea you’ve ever had. Call the producer and back out. Tell them you’re not allowed and that it would be an unmitigated disaster for your family—which it would be, by the way.”