The Duke of New York_A Contemporary Bad Boy Royal Romance

by Lisa Lace

  After my lengthy morning routine to make myself presentable, I go into the office with a smile pasted on my face. The less people know about me, the easier it will be for me to function. I don’t need other people feeling sorry for me or asking for updates. I’ve vowed to keep things friendly but professional with everyone, and I intend to keep it that way.

  “You’re here late!” Diana, one of the other designers, rushes up to me. “You won’t believe who’s here!”

  “Who?” I shuffle through the mail that came in late yesterday. I spy a purple postcard and pull it out first. It’s from Bella. There are no words written on it, but there is a picture of what appears to be the two of us drinking tea, and she’s drawn a border of hearts around her drawing. My eyes well up with tears. I turn away so Diana doesn’t witness my blubbering.

  She doesn’t notice my distress and continues to babble about the visitor. I need to use the restroom to compose myself. I make an excuse about my bra needing an adjustment and make a beeline for the ladies’ room. There, I allow myself a few tears without messing up my makeup. If I’m going to do this, I have to be strong. A purple postcard shouldn’t hold the power to make me collapse, dammit.

  I emerge from the restroom composed, but still feeling vulnerable.

  “There you are.” Diana sidles up to me again. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.” She guides me into the main design room, where a tall blonde is surrounded by the office crowd. I hear impressed murmurs and eager questions being directed at her. She turns her face to a woman who’s asked her something, and I freeze. Rebecca.

  Diana is still tugging at my arm, but I’m not budging. Okay, this is it. I don’t think Max did anything with her, so what I’m feeling is jealousy. I can do this. I can conquer this too. I need to cut loose any hold that he has over me and be done with it. I’m not jealous, because I have no reason to be, and furthermore, no right to be. End of story.

  Forcing a smile has become second nature to me, and I force another one for Rebecca. Summoning up the courage, I approach her from the side, touching her arm lightly. “Rebecca? I’m Laura.”

  Rebecca claps her hands and gasps, “Laura! I finally get a chance to meet you!” She wraps me in a warm hug, and my arms come around her in surprise. This isn’t how I imagined meeting her would go.

  “I’m so sorry I missed you when I was in New York last time. I told Max I was mad he didn’t bring you and Bella with him! But it was my fault since I told him I was in town at the last minute.” She pulls away from the crowd with her one arm still hanging around me.

  “You look positively gorgeous, and I’ve heard a lot about how talented you are from Max, and seeing your designs up close has just proved that he’s not bragging about you enough. He just wants to keep you for himself, and I can’t say I blame him.” She gives me a tight squeeze around my shoulders.

  I’m not sure if I’ve spoken since I said her name—aside from the occasional smiles and nods to her words. “You’re too kind,” I manage to say. “Max said you were a great friend of his from his childhood. I’m sorry to have missed you before.”

  “We do go way back, so if you want to know any terrible secrets about him, I’m your gal.”

  I laugh and feel myself relaxing. She reminds me of Riley in a way, and I know I can trust her. It feels good to let go of the tension I didn’t realize I’ve been carrying around with me, and it feels even better to share a genuine laugh.

  Judging by how she’s talking to me, I don’t think she knows the road Max and I are going down, but at the moment, I don’t care. I want to put a bandage on the pain, pretend everything is normal for a while.

  Later in the afternoon, I return to the flat and get ready for a dinner with Rebecca and a few other designers. Every day has bled into the next until today. Today, everything feels a little different.

  Spending most of my day with Rebecca, with her under the assumption that Max and I are a happy couple, makes me think that we can be just that. A pep talk from Riley every other day has helped plant the seed in my mind. It’s only grown since meeting Rebecca.

  Rebecca regaled me with stories from their youth earlier this morning. I can’t believe how much more I want to hear about him, and it makes me miss him even more. I know it’s just past Bella’s bedtime, but I call Max to see if she’s still up. I miss her and want to tell her I got her postcard.

  He doesn’t answer the phone, much to my disappointment. I call the house phone but I don’t expect anyone to answer that line. As a last resort, I call Sam to see if he knows where Max might be.

  “Hey, stranger!” The background noise on Sam’s end is incredibly loud. “I’m out right now. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I was just wondering if you know where Max is. I was trying to call him, but he’s not answering.”

  “Oh, I’m not sure. You want me to try and have him call you back?”

  “No, that’s not necessary. Well, if you want, that would be nice.” I’m feeling double minded about talking to Max, and I’m a nervous wreck. It’s probably a good thing he didn’t answer the phone.

  “Yeah, let me give him a call. Everything’s cool, though, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s great. I met Rebecca today.”

  “Oh! How’s she doing? Tell her I said ‘hi.’” Sam’s voice is clearer, and I assume he’s walked away from the crowd to hear me clearly.

  “She’s great. I feel silly for having doubted him.”

  “Hey, you guys know what you’re doing? You want to go through with this?” I don’t answer right away, and Sam pounces on my hesitation. “I knew it!”

  “It’s complicated, Sam.”

  “Yeah, sure. You like each other, and neither one of you wants to admit it first. Super-complex.”

  “No, you wouldn’t understand.”

  “I might be younger, but I still have experience. What I understand is that I ask both of you the same point-blank question and you both have trouble answering it. That tells me that you’re not interested in separating as much as you think you are.”

  “Sam.” My voice holds a warning, but I know Sam doesn’t know when to stop.

  “Riley and I were just talking about you two today.”

  “What! You guys are talking about us?” I sputter. I don’t know why I’m surprised. I should have suspected as much since they’re both close to Max and me.

  “Riley was right. You live under a rock.” Sam laughs.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means we’ve been dating for a while. Leaves a lot of time to discuss the two thorns in our sides.”

  “She never told me!” I nearly drop the phone at the news. Or maybe she told me, and I was too caught up in my own mess to listen. “Congratulations! I feel like such a terrible friend. Oh, I’m going to kill her!”

  “Thanks? I think. I don’t think she wanted you to feel more upset, but I for one don’t think it will make a difference. I’m sure you want her to be happy.”

  “Of course. I’m glad you two are together.”

  I laugh when he tells me about all the times that Riley told him she nearly slipped up and told me. “Alright. let me give him a call and see if he can call you back.”

  “I’m heading out in about an hour or so, but please let him know I got Bella’s postcard, and I was calling to talk to her.”

  My heart is back to aching a little after I hang up with Sam. I know I wouldn’t have lasted long trying to pretend that I’m with Max because we’re a “good team.” But I wish I’d gone along with it. Because maybe the pain of pretending while I’m with him is less painful than leaving him and being honest with myself.

  Honesty is overrated, I decide as I slip a casual summer dress on, exchange my heels for flats, and give myself a once-over in the mirror. Instead of going out tonight, trying to pick Rebecca’s brain about Max some more, I could be going to bed with him right now if I chose to extend the contract with him.

  I search my eyes in the mirror and practice
my fake smile. Damn my conviction. So far, it’s gotten me to my dream job, but I feel more unfulfilled than ever.

  Maxwell

  Six weeks. It’s been six weeks since I’ve seen Laura, and it’s slowly killing me. I miss everything about her. I thought I would miss her only at night. But I should have known I’d miss her every waking moment. I miss her in the mornings when she takes too long getting ready. I miss her in the afternoon when I can catch her in the office to have a quick lunch. I miss seeing her at work, and even though she’s not in the conference room, I always look in when I pass by it. I’ve closed the door to her office and have forbidden anyone from using it for anything, including storage space, as Norma tried to do.

  A combination of sleepless nights and low productivity during the days has me going into the office late at night—both to catch up and to keep my mind distracted. I find it more and more difficult to answer Bella’s questions about Laura’s return. Every time she asks, I’ve put it off, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing that. Laura hasn’t called as much either, and I don’t want her to. It will only succeed in making things more confusing for all of us.

  For the third time this week, I find myself spending the night in my office. After the second night I fell asleep here, I had a small couch brought in, which has served me well in the past two weeks. I leave before anyone else arrives to clean up and come back in, but my luck runs out.

  Sam catches me as he’s coming into the building. “What the hell happened to you?” He’s holding his coffee with one hand and the door with the other. He eyes me up and down before peering into my eyes. “You slept here?”

  “Are you stating something or are you asking me? It’s hard to tell.”

  “Yeah, you slept here. You got a shadow and everything!”

  “So what?” I scowl.

  “So, in case you didn’t know this, you have a mansion not too far away, with plenty of bedrooms to choose from.”

  “I had to get some work done, okay?”

  “Right. Nothing that couldn’t be done in the average twelve to fifteen hours you’ve already been putting in.”

  “That’s an exaggeration.”

  “No, that’s how long you’ve been staying. I know.”

  “I don’t need an interrogation right now. I’m working, and I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation for it.”

  “What about Bella?” Sam asks quietly before taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Bella?”

  “Yes, your daughter. Bella. I came by to visit, and she was asking where you were.”

  “Look, I’m tired, and I’m going home to rest. If you want to talk, come by tonight.”

  “To the office or to the house?” Sam asks pointedly.

  “The house,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Sam nods. “I’ll be there. Sweet dreams.” He looks up at the rising sun and gives me a crooked smile before disappearing into the building.

  I have to laugh at his nerve. “See ya.” Pulling up to the portico, I come to an abrupt halt when I see Bella rushing out to my car. I open the door and climb out. “Hey, Bunny. What are you doing up so early?”

  “Daddy, where were you?” Her voice wavers, and I can tell from her red-rimmed eyes that she’s been crying. I look up to see Helen looking back at me disapprovingly. Great. “I was at work.” I kneel down to pull her into a hug, but she holds her body stiffly.

  “You work during the day,” she reminds me.

  “Well, sometimes I work at night too.”

  “But then you work from this office.” She points behind her into the house, talking into my chest.

  “I know. It’s hard to bring work home all the time, so I thought I’d just keep it at work.” My excuses sound weak, even to me.

  She’s quiet for a moment before she relaxes into me and nuzzles her face deeper into my chest. “Are you going to leave like Laura did?”

  “Honey, Laura left for work. She’ll be back.” I rub her back and will my words to come true. I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the charade.

  “You were at work, too,” she points out.

  “That’s different. Her work is far, and mine is close.”

  “But you’re both still gone.” She pulls away and looks at me accusingly.

  What I really want to do is go lie down in bed, but I know Bella needs me right now. “Let’s go make some breakfast, and then we’ll get you ready for school.” I stand up and tuck her hand into mine.

  Bella hops up and down and leads me into the entryway of the kitchen. “Helen said she’d make French toast. Can we do that?”

  “Of course.” I look at Helen helplessly. “I know one breakfast item, and that’s not it.”

  “I’ll get the ingredients,” she says with a grudging smile. I know she’s holding back a lecture about how absent I’ve been, and I welcome the distraction. I don’t have the capacity for two lectures in one day—I’ve already scheduled one from Sam as it is.

  Later in the evening, hours after I tuck Bella into bed, I pour myself a drink in my office and sit with my head thrown back and my eyes closed. The exhaustion of the day is catching up with me, and I want nothing more than to forget about everything and sleep. My drink resting on my knee, my eyelids grow heavy, and I can’t muster the energy to set it on the desk.

  “Hey, old man.” Sam raps on the door.

  My eyes open slowly, and I groan.

  “You didn’t forget I was coming, did you?” He fixes himself a drink before settling across from me. He takes a big swallow and grimaces. “I needed that.”

  Leaning forward, I bring the glass up to set on the table. “Long day?”

  “Not as long as yours,” he jokes, taking another swig.

  “Alright, stop beating around the bush. Let’s get this over with. What do you want to talk about?”

  “Whoa, easy there.” He sets his drink down and leans back. “We used to hang out not too long ago, remember? You got a little chip on your shoulder, you know that?”

  “What’s this about?” I bristle. “I’m tired, and the clock is ticking.” He has a point, I’m definitely at the end of my rope and have no one to blame but myself, which only makes me more annoyed.

  “Point taken.” He laughs. I glare at him, and he sobers. “Alright. What’s going on with you?”

  “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “I’ve never seen you like this. You’re not the attentive father you’ve always been. You’re not taking care of yourself, you’re spending all your time at work when there’s no reason to be there beyond work hours, and you’re avoiding talking to Laura.”

  “How do you know I’m not talking to her?” I shoot back.

  “Ah, I see I hit a nerve there.”

  “I’m still a good father. I’m just busy at the moment. Things will get easier.”

  “When? You forget that I’m working on a lot of these projects with you, and nothing is so important that you need to lose sleep and spend days and nights at the office. If anything, all the hours spent there are making you less productive.”

  “Can we focus on one thing here? Is this about work, Bella, or Laura?”

  “Your relationships with all three have become unbalanced and unhealthy.” I glare at him again, but he doesn’t back down. “You want to argue with me about that? Go ahead.”

  “I’m stressed, alright?”

  “Yeah, cool. But you’re also in a downward spiral, and I can’t stand by and watch you go down without talking some sense into you.”

  “Okay, fine. You tell me how you’d handle my business.”

  “Look, I know I’m your younger brother, and you have far more life experience than I do. I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but I’m going to give it to you because no one else is in a position to call you on your bullshit.”

  “I’m waiting, and the clock is still ticking.”

  “Well, I’ve covered Bella. I’ve covered work. You know what’s next.”<
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  I need a drink before he launches into Laura. Holding a finger up in the air I pick up my glass, take deep gulps to finish it, and set it down with a loud slam. “Okay, ready.”

  “First of all, you just asked me how I would handle your ‘business,’” Sam reminds me as he gets up to walk the length of the office. “That’s your first mistake. Laura’s not your business. Just because you came up with some stupid contract that was void of anything resembling a marriage doesn’t mean that it is a business agreement. You need to get that through your thick skull if you want to keep her.”

  “What makes you think I want to keep her?” I look up at him obstinately when he pauses by my chair.

  “You don’t?” He challenges.

  I look down at my now empty glass on the table and wish it was full again. “I tried to get her to stay, but she rejected the offer.”

  “Hold on. You asked her to stay, and she said no?”

  “Basically.”

  “What exactly did you say to her?”

  “I had Walter draw up new papers and adjust the contract to make it a permanent agreement—what?”

  Sam is shaking his head in disgust. “You’re an idiot.”

  “How much more obvious could I have been?” I shoot back.

  “Did you tell her how you feel about her?” Sam looks at me skeptically.

  “She knows how I feel. Why would I readjust my entire life, including her in my will—why would I do any of those things if I didn’t love her?”

  “Did you tell her that?” Sam asks me quietly. He already knows the answer.

  “I didn’t tell her all that, but I couldn’t get to that point. She was busy rejecting me for that job in Milan.”

  “But you never tried,” Sam points out. “You never gave her that option. From her point of view, you just readjusted the contract to have more of the same thing, which was confusing, to begin with.”

  I rub my face roughly with both hands and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Well, it’s a little too late now. She’s adjusted to her life over there, and I’m here picking up the pieces.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, big bro.” Sam settles back into his seat with a sigh and takes another drink. He looks smug, and I know he knows something.