Once Upon a Princess

by Holly Jacobs

“And you, Pearly,” Josie said. “Mabel’s dating Elmer. I’ve got Hoffman, here. But you…we need to find you someone.”

  “Oh, no, I’m happy in my solitude,” Pearly protested. “But Lin wasn’t. She was a paleontologist and said she couldn’t find a man who interested her as much as those old bones did.”

  “She sounds happy enough to me,” Parker said. “And for the record, it’s not that I can’t find a man who’s interesting, it’s just that the men I find who are interesting are simply not interested in me. Eventually it always comes down to the fact that we’re too different.”

  Parker realized that was a lie. It wasn’t that the men were too different. It was that she was too different.

  “Differences can be the spice of life in a relationship,” Pearly announced.

  “Look at me and Hoffman. We’re as different as we can be and yet we’re working out just fine.”

  “Now, when Lin was fifteen she was different. Why, she—”

  “Pearly, I’m almost done with her trim,” Libby said. “So if you want to finish the story, you’d better do the short version.”

  “You all don’t know how to appreciate a good meander through a story. Hurry, hurry, hurry. That’s the problem with Northerners,” Pearly grumbled. “Down South we know how to tell a proper story, with the appropriate amount of twists and turns.”

  She sighed a very put-upon sigh, drew in a deep breath and said in a fast torrent of words, “Linda’s bein’ different kept her from finding a man until she was in her thirties. She said she always thought if she did find a man, he’d be another scientist, like herself. But the man she found, Merv, was a writer. Not some scientific, technical writer. A romance author.”

  “Romance?” Hoffman scoffed. “Real men don’t do romance.”

  “One particular real man better rethink that stance if he wants to continue seeing one particular romance fan,” Josie warned.

  Hoffman looked at the file in her hand and paled. “Uh, romance is fine. I was going to buy you flowers tonight. That’s romantic, isn’t it?”

  Josie smiled and lowered the file.

  Pearly continued, “Anyway, Merv might have been different, but he was perfect for Lin, even if it took a bit of time for her to admit. She was a stubborn one, that Lin, and set in her ways, so she took a lot of wooing. A normal man might not have had the know-how or the stamina. But Merv did. Probably came from writing romance. He had all kinds of tricks up his sleeves. Finally he just wore her down.”

  “Wearing her down doesn’t sound romantic,” Josie said.

  “Oh, it was. They’ve been married for over ten years now. Merv’s perfect for her. And since he can write anywhere, he’s able to go out on digs with her. To this day, Lin digs for bones and Merv writes his books. They’re different—her work is centered on her brain, his on his heart—but they work, they mesh. You need to think outside the box, Parker. The man for you might be right under your nose.”

  “Done,” Libby said, whipping off the cape and brushing the back of Parker’s neck. “Hurry, run, escape while you still can. Pearly’s just catching her breath before she launches into some other story.”

  “Could I ask a favor before I leave?” Parker asked.

  “Sure. Anything,” Libby said with a smile. “You know that.”

  “Could I borrow your office for a few minutes. I have to look over some papers, and it’s nuts over at the coffeehouse today.”

  “Help yourself,” Libby said, not asking any questions.

  Even Pearly, who normally didn’t know the meaning of the word privacy, didn’t ask.

  Parker hurried into the back room and pulled the file out of her purse.

  Jason Patrick O’Donnell, it read on the tab.

  She opened the folder. The first page consisted of a column of statistics. How tall he was, how much he weighed—the facts and figures that made up Jace O’Donnell. It wasn’t what she wanted to know.

  She wanted to know the secret things, the things he kept hidden.

  Parker wanted to know his hopes, his dreams. What made him tick.

  Even if it wasn’t what she wanted, she couldn’t help but scan the figures. Jace was thirty, she noticed. She was almost twenty-seven. A little over three years was an easy age span for two people—

  She caught herself midthought.

  It didn’t really matter what their age difference was. He was assigned to watch her, nothing more, nothing less.

  She tried to tell herself she was looking at the file because knowing your opponent was a good strategy. But she was honest enough to admit that she wanted to know more about Jace.

  Much more.

  She scanned the six other sheets of paper. They were mainly narrative, written in a small, tightly precise script. It would take more than a few minutes to read everything, but one paragraph on the first page caught her eye. Jace had written about his parents and their divorce. She read the line, Two people too different to stay together.

  On the second page he mentioned Shelly and her separation from her husband. The differences were just too much in the end, he’d written.

  Differences.

  Too different.

  She closed the file folder without reading any more. There seemed to be a theme to this report.

  Was it a warning for her?

  He didn’t have to worry. She got it. She knew intellectually that they had a vast number of differences standing between them. But knowing it and feeling it—those were two decidedly different things.

  And when Jace touched her, she didn’t feel any differences. Just a need to be closer to him, even though she knew she shouldn’t. She didn’t need his subtle reminder.

  She felt slightly depressed as she stuffed the folder into her bag and ventured to the salon.

  “Thanks for the use of the room. I’d better get back to the store,” she said.

  “You gonna tell us what that was all about?” Pearly asked.

  “I don’t think so,” she said with a shake of her head. “At least not now.”

  The gray-haired woman sighed a heavy, put-upon sort of sigh. “Didn’t figure you would. That’s okay. The girls and I enjoy figuring out a good mystery.”

  “There is no mystery, Pearly.” Parker started walking to the door before Pearly or Josie could ask any more questions.

  “Thanks,” she called, then hurried out. Once she was safely on the sidewalk, she slowed her pace to practically a crawl. She needed a few minutes to find some equilibrium.

  Jace had kissed her.

  She’d kissed him.

  The kiss had definitely had sparks. Even that almost kiss on her cheek at the Whacky Shack and that small brush of her arm had sparked.

  There was something there between them.

  But the word different kept playing over and over in her mind. She and Jace came from different backgrounds, lived very different lives with very different expectations.

  But on the heels of those thoughts came an image of a woman with a shovel and a man with a book.

  They were different people, but they balanced each other.

  Jace’s report talked about his mother’s and sister’s marriages being too different to survive.

  But maybe sometimes differences could be good?

  Would a private detective ever be willing to put up with a princess?

  Fairy tales would have a reader believe that being a princess was a prime-time, fun job. Instead it was a royal pain. Parker hadn’t asked to be a princess, to live her life that way—the assumptions, the expectations. And she had hated being followed, having all the tiny facets of her life dredged up as tabloid fodder.

  Here in Erie she’d found some semblance of normality and anonymity. But she knew there was always a chance that the press would out her, that her life would become part of the public domain again.

  She remembered her senior year and those headlines: Eliason’s Bad-Girl Princess.

  So unfair. One mistake, one any teenager might make, and there
it was blazoned across European papers. For months she was followed, hounded.

  It could happen again. That was a risk she lived with.

  Could she ask Jace to take that kind of chance? He was a private man. Actually he was a private detective, which was even more private than a normal man.

  If she were to see where the spark between them led, would it be fair to him?

  Parker didn’t know, but for the first time in a long time she really wanted to take the chance.

  She was halfway across the park when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and saw it was her mother’s private line.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, honey. I just found out what your father’s been up to lately. I’m so sorry.”

  “Mom, I just—”

  “Honey, don’t. There’s no need to explain. Of course we want you home, but you’ve built a life for yourself in Erie. I understand the attraction. I lived more than twenty years there before I met your father. Now having lived more than half my life as a public figure, I understand the attraction of what you’re doing, what you’re trying to hold on to. That’s why I helped you go to school there in the first place. I just hope you can find a way to have the life you want and balance it with not only your family but your country.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “But one day you will know. And when you do, it will be on your own terms, not because your father’s forced you to by either cutting off your money or making you marry. So, you’ll find you’ve got access back to your accounts. As for your father’s insane plans with Tanner…” Her mother’s sigh was audible as she paused.

  This time Parker interrupted. “I know how he is, so you don’t have to explain. Having access to my money helps. Really. Thanks.”

  “Remember this, Parker. You may have been born into circumstances you wouldn’t have chosen, but you’re my daughter. I know you won’t run from your responsibilities forever. You’ll find some way to make it all work—the life you want and the life you were born into. You’re a fighter.”

  They talked awhile longer, just mother and daughter chitchat. Parker felt a stab of longing for her mother, for her whole family. For Eliason.

  She hung up feeling like a fraud. Her mother had said she was a fighter. Lately she hadn’t felt that way at all.

  She glanced across the square at the store. Her store. Hers, Cara’s and Shey’s.

  She knew Jace was inside waiting.

  And when she thought about going back to him, she didn’t feel as if she could fight her feelings, even though she knew she should.

  She started walking across the park. One problem resolved—she had access to her money. Technically the stores were back on an even financial footing. She could go back to simply managing the businesses, not waitressing.

  But despite the fact that she had solved that, she still had more things to figure out. Like where was her supposed fiancé and what was Shey doing to him? And how could she balance the life she’d built and loved with her family and duties? How could she face being in the spotlight again? Finally there was the huge question of what to do about her private investigator.

  The last part was the part that weighed heaviest on her mind.

  Chapter Six

  Jace glanced at the clock again.

  It seemed as if all he’d done since Parker left was watch the clock inch forward, long minute after long minute, as he waited for her and tried to figure out what to do next. She wasn’t just a job anymore, even though he didn’t want her to be anything more.

  He was still debating the issue when she walked in.

  She stopped at the entry and simply stared at him a moment with an odd expression.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  She shook her head and pasted a smile on her face. The smile didn’t fool him. Something wasn’t right.

  “Parker?” he asked. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Everything’s fine. Just fine. How were things here?”

  She was lying. He knew that there was something different. Something not quite right.

  “Shey called and said she’d be in this afternoon without the prince,” he said slowly.

  She didn’t meet his eye. Just nodded and said, “Good. I need to talk to her.”

  Parker started to bustle around the room, bussing tables, straightening this and that.

  Jace didn’t press. He’d find out just what had happened at the beauty salon, but he’d bide his time.

  Once Shey arrived, Jace would take Parker someplace private and get the truth out of her.

  Of course, thinking of having Parker someplace private immediately called up thoughts of what sort of private things he’d like to do with her.

  He forced the fantasies out of his head and studied her. She was tall, blond and beautiful, but there was so much more to this princess. She had a sense of knowing who she was and what she wanted out of life. An inner strength.

  He remembered that day at Waldemeer. She’d had a sense of fun in her, as well. Laughing, smiling with the kids.

  She wasn’t smiling today. As a matter of fact, every time she looked at him, she frowned. He was pretty sure it wasn’t an I’m-angry frown but more of a puzzled sort of frown.

  What on earth had gone on at that beauty shop?

  “Hey, Jace.”

  He looked away from Parker and saw that Shelly was standing in front of the counter.

  Parker Dillon was making him crazy, making him slip up. He hadn’t even noticed his sister walk into the shop. Some private investigator he was.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Why are you behind the counter?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I’m just helping out.”

  “Helping out or undercover?” she asked in a whisper. “I don’t want to blow an investigation for you.”

  “No worries about that. What’s up with you?”

  “I was down here circulating some résumés while the twins are with Hal. I thought I might find you here. The twins said this was your new favorite haunt. I know that your friend Parker works here.”

  “They’re never going to make it as private investigators if they don’t learn the meaning of the word discretion,” he grumbled.

  “I can leave,” Shelly said.

  “No, really, it’s okay. Want some coffee?”

  “Yeah. This pounding the pavement is tough.”

  He poured her a cup and, as he handed it to her, said, “Go put your feet up and relax. I’ll try and come sit down with you in a few minutes.”

  She nodded, then turned and made her way to an empty booth.

  The phone rang. “Monarch’s Coffeehouse,” he answered.

  “May I speak to Parker, please?” asked the female voice on the other end of the line.

  “Parker,” he called.

  She frowned at him again.

  Geesh, what was up?

  “For you,” he said, holding the phone out to Parker.

  Parker took the phone gingerly. She didn’t want to brush Jace’s hand. Maybe if she could avoid all contact with him, she could get rid of the wild thoughts that kept flooding her mind.

  Thoughts of her and Jace.

  Thoughts of—

  She pushed them away.

  “Hello?” she said into the receiver, feeling a bit of trepidation. There had been too many unpleasant phone calls the last few days.

  “Parker, it’s Shey. I’m not coming in at all today. I’ve got the prince stranded right now, but that means I’m stranded, as well.”

  “What did you do?”

  “We’re out on Cara’s boat. Seems it won’t start and the radio won’t work.”

  Cara had come into a small trust when she’d turned twenty-one. Her parents had shown uncharacteristic concern and urged her to invest it. Parker had sided with them. Shey had told Cara to live on the wild side and do something fun.

  Cara hadn’t argued with her parents or Parker—arguing wasn’t in her genetic makeup.
No, she’d simply gone out and bought the small boat, presenting it as a done deed.

  When Parker had asked why, Cara had simply smiled and said, “You and Shey have taught me that everyone should go after what they want, and right now I want a boat.”

  Cara was quiet and generally easygoing, but every now and then she dug her heels in and surprised everyone.

  Thinking of going after what you wanted… Parker studied Jace from across the room a moment. She pulled herself back to what she knew she didn’t want—her hijacked fiancé. “Doesn’t he know you have your cell phone?”

  “Nope,” Shey said with a rather devilish laugh. “And I’m not telling him—at least not until he agrees to leave Erie.”

  “Just keep him away. I can handle things here,” Parker said. She was ready to ask just what Shey had been doing to Tanner, boatnapping aside, when she heard a muted voice in the background yell, “Shey, where are you? I know you can fix this.”

  “Oops,” Shey said. “Gotta go.”

  And she disconnected before Parker could ask her anything else.

  Parker hung up and automatically scanned the room for Jace. He was at a booth with his sister. They were talking earnestly.

  He looked so cute, his brow furrowed as he leaned in close to listen to what Shelly was saying.

  Parker liked his ability to focus so completely on whoever he was talking to. When he’d talked to her last night, she’d felt as if she was the only other person in the world.

  “Pardon me,” said a voice.

  Parker tore her eyes away from Jace and noticed the man at the counter. He had almond-shaped eyes, incredibly soft-looking black hair, and a killer smile.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I was lost in thought.”

  “And I don’t think I have to ask you what you were thinking about,” the man said, glancing back at Jace.

  “I’m not…” Parker started to deny, then realized she didn’t owe a stranger, even if he was a potential customer, any explanation.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said in her most haughty tone. “Would you like to order something?”

  “Orders are why I’m here,” the man said softly.

  “Orders?” Parker echoed.

  “I’m Peter. I work for—”