Rich Boys vs. Poor Boys (The Cruel Kings of Castle Hill Academy, Book 1) by Devon Hartford kd103

by Hartford, Devon

To my immense disappointment, Rob spends the rest of the party basically chaperoning all the work-study kids, making sure none of them sneak any edibles or get too drunk. He keeps reminding them they need to be back on campus soon and be sober when they get there. The work-study kids aren’t too worried about drinking because alcohol doesn’t stay in your system too long, and it’s easy to act sober if you try hard enough and don’t get too hammered (I’ve had practice), but we all know we could get drug-tested randomly later in the week or whenever. Yet another thing in the student handbook Mimi told me about that I never bothered to read. Anyway, if you fail a drug test, you get kicked out of the academy, obvi. Drinking is slightly risky, but tonight some of us don’t seem to care. Sometimes, you just have to say fuck it and cut loose.

  When it comes to the townie kids, the readily available edibles make up for the fact that Prince and the Fundies crashed the party. The townies are down. The girls in particular are all over the Fundies. Chase is the standout star. I lose count of how many girls I see hanging off him. Mimi doesn’t. She keeps close count and keeps reminding me he’s a manwhore.

  Prince tries to get close to me several times during the night, but I swear Rob beelines over every time Prince gets close. It gets a little frustrating.

  “I just want to apologize to her,” Prince groans on his fifth try.

  Rob growls, “You lost your chance on Halloween. Talk to somebody else. There’s plenty of other girls here.”

  Prince glances absently at some of the townie girls, many of whom are now ridiculously high on the edibles. “I don’t want them,” Prince hisses to himself. “I want to talk to Mary.”

  “Find somebody else,” Rob says, standing between me and Prince.

  “I can’t even apologize?” Prince sighs.

  “You can kiss her shoe,” Rob smirks.

  “If I kiss her shoe can I talk to her?” Prince is practically begging.

  Rob relents and looks at me. “Do you want him to kiss your shoe?”

  “Erm,” I giggle. “Maybe?”

  Prince drops to his knees in the dirt, giving no thought to his super expensive clubbing suit. He holds his arms out wide. “Let me kiss your shoe, princess. It’s the least you deserve after how I’ve treated you.”

  I offer Rob a guilty grin that says, “What am I supposed to say? No?”

  Rob grits his teeth and his jaw ticks, clearly saying, “Don’t fucking talk to this piece of shit.” But he doesn’t say it. He says to Prince, “I’ve got my eye on you. Don’t try anything. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  “Yes, dad,” Prince chuckles.

  Rob gets right in his face, “Don’t fuck with me, Lancaster. You know out here I’ll be more than happy to put you in the hospital if you piss me off.”

  “Yes, sir.” Prince offers a mocking military salute.

  “I’m serious, turd. This is not your turf.”

  “Funny, last time I checked, the land deed is in the Lancaster name.”

  “Bullshit,” Rob laughs. “The Morgan-Hearsts own it. Check the county records.” Why does he even know that?

  “True,” Prince chuckles. “Be that as it may, I’m sure I can call in a favor with Elizabeth if need be. She would be more than happy to have the sheriff escort you off her land.”

  “Fuck off, Lancaster. You’ve got five minutes.” Rob walks away, glancing back at me. “Call me if you need me, Mary.”

  “Sure,” I nod, suddenly wondering if Rob is leaving because of what he said earlier, that he wants me to get close to Prince to help take his family and the other Fundy families down. I never agreed to anything. Is that supposed to start now?

  “Princess,” Prince leans down, fingers pressing in the dark dirt. “I will now kiss your shoe.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I snicker.

  “No, I owe you. It’s the least I can do after everything.” He loudly smacks the toe of my Docs with his lips. “Mmm, leather,” he chuckles and stands up, dusting off his knees.

  “Sorry about your slacks,” I say. “They look really expensive.”

  “They are,” he says with customary nonchalance. “But you’re worth it.”

  “I only get one kiss?”

  He offers a sly grin, “I thought you’d never ask.” He leans in for an actual kiss.

  “No,” I giggle, “I meant my other shoe. You only kissed one.”

  He drops down and kisses my other Doc. Lifts his head to look at me. His face is disturbingly close to my crotch. Good thing I’m wearing jeans. “What else would you like me to kiss, strumpet?” He flicks his eyes between my legs.

  “Would you stop?!” I laugh. “Stand up already. Before Rob sees.”

  Prince stands and grumbles, “Are you and he seeing each other now?” His disappointment is unmistakable.

  “No-a! I mean, I don’t know.” I shrug. “He’s busy.”

  “I’m never too busy for you, Mary.” He’s being sincere. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to apologize. I was hoping to make a peace offering.”

  “It definitely worked.” I assume he means the drugs, which is the exact kind of extra that gets a party going. I glance around at the kids having fun around us, the dancing, the drinking, the loud music. It really is an epic event for something thrown together last minute in the woods.

  “I meant you, princess. I’ve been extending the olive branch to you for a month, but you refuse to take it.”

  “Can you blame me?” I laugh nervously.

  “No I cannot. What they did to you was ruthless and undeserved. But you have to understand, I had no part in that. Had I known, I would’ve put a stop to it. I think Elizabeth came up with the idea on the spot, committing a crime of opportunity, otherwise it never would’ve happened. Had I been by your side like a gentleman, you would’ve been safe.”

  We all know why he wasn’t. Because I kissed Chase mere minutes after kissing him and they argued about it after.

  Now, Prince’s anger is building. He’s probably thinking about it too.

  I’m afraid to say anything.

  Prince blows a heavy sigh, “Forget about the past. What’s done is done.”

  “I can’t forget.” I force an irritated smile. “Halloween was just a little bit traumatic, in case you didn’t get the memo.”

  “I did, and I’m so sorry for that, princess. I really am. If I could take back the past, I would. Let me make it up to you. It’ll take time and effort on my part, but I’m confident I can make up for my failing. Eventually you’ll realize I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you.”

  Now that he’s opened up this old wound, I’m getting uncomfortable thinking about it. “You didn’t hurt me. They did. You don’t owe me anything, Prince. It’s fine. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do anything for me. I’m over it.”

  “Are you?” He looks right in my eyes.

  “Yes!” I huff and look away, watching the party.

  For a moment, he does too, then says casually, “How is life in the Convent treating you?”

  “Good, I guess. It’s a bit drafty now that it’s cold out, but I can deal.”

  “My offer still stands.”

  “Which offer?”

  “You living in my suite in the West Wing. There are no drafts, I assure you.”

  “Oh, erm,” I wince. “I couldn’t. I like having my own space.”

  “Then I’ll get you your own private suite next to mine.”

  “You can’t do that! That’s the boys’ building!”

  “How many times do I have to tell you, princess? I can do anything I want. I can have the administration clear out the entire top floor of the West Wing and dedicate it to our exclusive use. How does that sound?”

  “Are you serious?” I laugh.

  “If that’s what you want, that’s what you get. Anything for you, princess.”

  “Why are you doing this, Prince?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He takes my hand in his. “I like you, princess.” />
  “Do you have to call me that? It’s weird.”

  Prince and his Princess sounds a wee bit creepy. I’m a person, not a title. It’s not just that. His sincerity is making me uncomfortable. It’s almost too good to be true. Doesn’t mean I don’t want it to be. Worse, I’ve completely forgotten anything Rob said and I’m fully focused on the fact that Prince is surfer hot, rich as sin, and he seems genuinely interested in me, which makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.

  “I can call you Mary if you prefer. What’s your middle name?”

  “Anne.”

  “How about I call you Marianne. It’s much more dignified than simply Mary.”

  “Nobody ever calls me that,” I say. I remember my mom calling me “Mary Anne Angerman!” whenever I was in big trouble, but that’s the only time. No boy ever called me that, but I have to admit, it’s much better than strumpet or princess.

  “Marianne it is,” Prince smiles. His blue eyes fire with obvious desire.

  I feel an instant thrill fill me from head to toe.

  He looks like he’s angling for a kiss.

  I’d let it happen if it wasn’t for Rob tossing irritated looks in our direction every two seconds. With him as tall as he is, he can easily see me and Prince over everyone’s heads. He would definitely see if me and Prince kissed. Don’t want that.

  Trying not to blush and hoping to distract, I say, “What’s your middle name, Prince? J-something, right?”

  “John. Prince John Lancaster the third.”

  “Why do you go by Prince? It’s so, I don’t know, so effing presumptuous,” I laugh.

  “Blame my parents. Who am I to argue with those two paragons of propriety?” His voice betrays a hint of irritation and his icy smile makes it abundantly clear he’s not exactly best friends with them.

  “Oh.”

  “Forget about them. Let’s talk about you, Marianne. Where are you going to live moving forward? In a drafty old convent with Popeye watching over you, or—”

  “You mean Brawny?” I titter.

  “Who else?” he chuckles. “You can live with her breathing down your neck, or move into a penthouse suite in the West Wing next to mine, which might take a few days to arrange, or you can move into the guest bedroom in my suite immediately. Have it all to yourself.”

  “Your dorm room has a guest room?”

  “Complete with an en suite.”

  “A what?” I ask.

  “It’s own full bathroom.”

  “Oh, right. Does the shower have an mp3 player like the other Fundies have?” I laugh.

  “Of course it does. My guest room is yours if you want. Just say the word.”

  “Time’s up,” Rob barks, barging in all of a sudden. He grabs Prince by the arm and pulls him along.

  “Relax, Fletcher,” Prince chuckles. “I know when I’m not wanted.” Walking away, he hollers, “Let me know what you decide, princess, and I’ll make it happen!”

  “Okay,” I laugh, shaking my head. With them gone, I look around for Mimi. I have to tell her about this ridiculousness. Can you believe it? Me living with Prince? How crazy would that be?

  Before I can find her, Rob finds me. He’s alone.

  “Say yes,” he says without explanation.

  “What?” I laugh.

  “Move in with him.”

  “With Prince?”

  Rob nods.

  I don’t know what to say. Here I was expecting Rob might ask me to move in with him. Or at least sleep in his bed tonight, for at least one night. Maybe two. He doesn’t even give me that. What is up with him? I search his mahogany eyes for a clue, but they’re dark mirrors.

  “What about…” I trail off. I wanted to ask him, what about us. But he’s making it pretty damn clear where we stand. Nowhere. Suddenly angry, I blurt, “Fine. I’ll move in with effing Prince! I hope you’re happy!”

  Rob’s face is a stone mask. The same dark gargoyle I saw in the backseat of Mr. Ralston’s Mercedes the day we met.

  I’d like at least a tiny bit of resistance from Rob.

  He doesn’t offer any.

  “Is that what you want?” I huff. “Me living with Prince?”

  “Yes,” Rob grunts.

  “You don’t mind me sleeping in his bed?” I’m making the guest bedroom situation sound like more than it is.

  “He said his guest bedroom,” Rob says tensely.

  “You’re okay with that? Me living in Prince’s guest bedroom?” I’m trying to get Rob to say no, he doesn’t want me living with Prince, he wants me living with him in the Monastery. I arch an eyebrow, hoping for the answer I want to hear.

  Rob’s lips are dancing like they want to snarl but he doesn’t. “If that’s what it takes, yes.”

  “If that’s what what takes?” I snort.

  “We went over this before.” Rob’s eyes blaze with rage. “Are you in or out, Mouth?”

  “Whatever you say, Rob,” I sneer irritation.

  So much for sleeping with Rob tonight.

  I’m suddenly not in the mood.

  When we get back to campus, Ms. Braunschott and Mr. Guerrero are waiting for the work-study kids looking pissed. Having that many kids sneak out doesn’t go unnoticed. I guess we’re busted? No, because Prince steps up for everyone and explains that he needed our services for the evening, his words. Brawny and Mr. Guerrero can only harrumph as we stroll past and filter back to our rooms without any consequences.

  Being friends with rich royalty does have its privileges.

  Chapter 32

  “Will this work?” Prince asks.

  “Oh my God,” I laugh, standing just inside the double doors in his private penthouse suite at the top of the West Wing. It’s better than an ultra-exclusive high-rise penthouse loft in New York City or wherever. I’ve got all my stuff, which wasn’t much. Prince is carrying my school books, which I couldn’t manage on top of my work clothes, school uniform and several spare uniform shirts, all of which are on hangars. I sigh, “This is insane. How come I’ve never been up here?”

  “Only the most trusted college-age work-study maids are allowed up here.”

  I roll my eyes, “Is it possible for you to not sound snooty all the time?”

  “No,” he chuckles.

  “I can’t believe Brawny agreed to this.” I was there in her office watching him talk her into this not ten minutes ago. I still can’t quite believe he convinced her.

  “I can.”

  “You’re so full of yourself.”

  “Would you have it any other way?”

  “Yes,” I laugh. “Can you be normal for like, five minutes?”

  “Normal is boring.”

  “How about not arrogant? Can you do that?”

  He sniffs, “It’ll be an effort, but I’ll try. After you, Marianne.”

  “You don’t have to call me that,” I blush.

  “I like to.”

  “Okay then,” I smile. “How far is it to the guest room? Should we walk or take a golf cart or whatever?” The suite is that big. It’s like the inside of a luxury warehouse, not a dorm room.

  Prince checks his watch, the Bugatti one. “The next horse and carriage will be here any minute.”

  “Stop,” I laugh and start walking. The main area is a living room with high ceilings and a two-story tall wall of windows and enough couches for like twenty people to sit around and enjoy the view when the sun’s out. At the moment it’s dark out, and the elaborate light fixtures, which look like floating stars, reflect off the glass.

  Prince slides out of his suit jacket and lays it across the couch like he assumes someone else will pick it up for him, because of course they probably do, and have been doing since the day Prince was born. I know it’s not just him. Since being a maid here, I’ve picked up more than my fair share of Fundy boys’ clothes laying around their rooms. Whatever. If Prince thinks I’m picking up his clothes, he can suck it.

  A gravity-defying spiral staircase in the middle of the living r
oom leads up to the loft level. By loft I mean second story of this warehouse mansion. Up there, I see several doors along the balcony and a hallway leading to the back with more doors.

  I snort, “How many effing rooms does this place have?”

  “More than I need,” he grins.

  Downstairs to the side is a full-size kitchen and dining area with a classy minimalist table for eight. It’s covered in expensive place settings and a center piece exploding with fragrant flowers.

  I say, “Are those flowers from the shop on campus?” Every day on my way to class I pass the Castle Hill Academy Florist shop. Yes, the school has its own florist. I never go in. What do I need flowers for? I can’t afford them. But I do see Fundy boys buying bouquets all the time for Fundy girls. Must be nice to have money to burn.

  “They are,” Prince nods. “They bring them up every morning.”

  “No way! What’s that cost?”

  “A small fortune.”

  “Do you really need fresh flowers daily? I mean, isn’t that a bit excessive?”

  “I never really thought about it.”

  “Maybe you should. Some people can’t even afford fresh water.”

  “You have a point,” he nods. “From this day forward I’ll have the staff replace the fresh flowers with something permanent, and I’ll donate the funds for the flowers to the charity of your choosing.”

  “Are you serious?” I drawl.

  “Very. Name a charity.”

  “Um,” I hesitate. “I don’t know. How about Save The Children?” It’s the only one I know off the top of my head. “They’re all about bringing clean water to whoever doesn’t have it.”

  “Done. Anything else?”

  “I’m accepting donations.” I wink and hold out my hand.

  “How much do you need?”

  “Totally kidding!” I drop my hand and laugh guiltily because I’m sort of not kidding, but I would never take Prince’s money even if he offered.

  “I’m not,” Prince grins. He’s serious. “How much money do you need?”

  “Um, thanks, really, but I’ll be happy if you just show me my room. It’s getting super late and I can barely keep my eyes open.” I yawn for real as I say it.

  “This way,” Prince says.

  Did I mention this is insane? I’m moving in with the hottest surfer stud I’ve ever met, and he’s rich as sin! It really is crazy, but here I am.