by Shirley Jump
“I thought you were going to keep the tacky to a minimum,” Daniel said. “We talked about how this piece should have some meaning and depth.”
“Meaning and depth.” Matt chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. If you see any meaning and depth around this place, let me know.” Then he headed back over to Carrie and started gesturing toward the set. “Let’s go, folks. We’re starting with your plan, and doing that embroidery test first. After that…” He shook his head and smiled the crafty smile Daniel had learned to dread. “I think I’ll let the rest be a surprise. Get more reactions that way.” He clapped his hands again. “Places, people.”
A flicker of worry ran through Daniel, but he brushed it off. This was his piece, after all, and he’d set everything up in advance. There were no surprises—because Daniel had made sure not to write any into the script. It was exactly what he and Carrie had agreed upon a couple days earlier. A silly, lighthearted princess test with an opportunity to interview her about the wines and the shop.
“I’m ready,” she said to him. “Are you?”
“Definitely. Remember, this is just for fun. I promise, there won’t be anything happening that we didn’t talk about already.”
She let out a little laugh, but it shook a bit. “I’m counting on that, Daniel. Counting on you.”
A production assistant took Carrie’s hand and led her over to the stage. Matt followed and stood beside her, while the PA affixed a mike to Carrie’s dress. When they were done, Daniel miked up, too, and bounded onto the stage. He shot Carrie a grin, but her features remained stony. Maybe she was just nervous.
The instincts that had served him well for so many years of his career told him otherwise. That knot of dread grew in his stomach. As soon as this was over, he would talk to her.
Matt had added a second chair for Daniel, and given him an embroidery hoop, needle and some thread. The whole thing had the fun, silly air that Daniel had wanted. He began to relax. This would go well, and though it wasn’t the hard journalism he had built his career upon, it surely wouldn’t hurt to show another side of his personality. Might even lead to a job on a morning show. The thought nearly made him laugh out loud.
“Good thing we didn’t add a cooking segment to this,” he whispered to Carrie.
“Oh, goodness, that would be a disaster,” she said, then laughed, a deep throaty sound that nearly took his breath away. “We’d end up starting a fire.”
His gaze met hers, those long dark lashes that shaded big brown eyes, and everything in him went hot with desire. Damn. She was beautiful. No, more than beautiful. Stunning. Unforgettable.
“I think we already have,” he said, and for a second, he forgot everything around him, and saw only her.
“Ready, folks?” the floor director asked. Carrie jerked her gaze away from Daniel’s and nodded. The spell was broken, and the bright lights of reality invaded.
“Okay. Three…two…one.” Then the floor director flicked a finger toward them and the cameras started rolling.
Embroidery. What had possessed her to think this was a good idea? Carrie thought as she pricked her finger for the fourth time. She yanked her hand out from under the linen square. “Ouch. Again.” The cameras had been filming her clumsy attempts at stitching a flower into the center of the hoop. Thus far, she’d created a messy Z. “Clearly, this is not my greatest skill.”
Daniel held up a hoop that had exactly three stitches on it, each longer than the next. He saw her bite back a laugh.
“Not mine, either. Which is probably a good thing.” He chuckled, then set the embroidery on the small end table between them. “I take it you didn’t embroider a lot while you were living in the castle?”
She nodded. “Not at all. I was too busy doing everything but act like a princess.”
Act like a princess? What kind of princess were you, really? The thoughts darted in and sent her stomach rolling. Her memory flicked to Richard Parker, to the bombshell he’d laid on her last night. I’m your father.
“Meaning what?” Daniel asked.
“Um, well, I’m more of an outdoorsy girl. I liked camping, horseback riding, even working in the gardens and the vineyards. I wasn’t much for sitting around at home.” She dropped her embroidery hoop on top of his and relaxed a bit. So far, everything was going according to the plan she and Daniel had concocted.
But even as she sat there, talking about her royal roots, the truth whispered in her mind.
You’re not really a princess. You never were.
“And I was, uh,” she said, forcing her mind back on track, “definitely not much for quote, unquote ‘lady-like’ hobbies.”
“Sounds like you’re a modern princess.”
“Yes, I’d say that’s correct.”
Really? If you’re not descended from royalty after all?
Daniel leaned in, his blue eyes wide, inquisitive. She thought of the secret she had kept from him. Would he understand when she told him later?
Her heart fluttered. She realized suddenly why she cared so much about his reaction. About keeping his trust.
Because she had fallen for this man who kept trying to do the right thing with her, with his daughter, with everyone. He was doing his best right now to show her as she was—not mold her into something she wasn’t. He knew the real Carrie, and she…
Well, she loved him for it. That knowledge took flight in her heart, but she had to tamp it down, keep it hidden.
For now. Later, she promised with a small smile, she would tell him.
“Tell me, Princess Carlita,” Daniel asked, “how would you define a modern princess?”
She thought about her answer for a moment before speaking. “Someone who lives a life as close to ordinary as possible. I don’t want to be Rapunzel up in the tower, secluded and away from the people. I want to be…well, like everyone else.”
And she was, more than she’d ever realized.
“That quest to have one day follow the other in a predictable pattern,” he said. “To find the quiet niche where you belonged, and just…stay there.”
She nodded. He understood her, he truly did. She heard it in his voice, and wondered if maybe after all this was over, they’d each find what they were looking for. And find it with each other.
“I can relate,” he said softly. “And I think you deserve that, Carrie.”
She smiled, unable to keep her feelings for him from showing on her face. “And so do you, Daniel.”
“Cut!” Matt’s voice cut through the room like a knife. He strode forward and marched onto the set, his face a stony mask. “What the hell was that? Some touchy-feely crap? Just do the test. We’ll get a few laughs for the audience, boost our ratings by outing or proving a princess, and that’s it. Nothing more. You got it?”
Daniel rose out of the chair in one fast, fluid movement. “This is my piece, Matt. I’ll run it the way I want to. That’s what you hired me for, after all.”
A muscle twitched in Matt’s jaw. He glanced over his shoulder at the production crew, all watching the standoff. “Fine. Do it your way. But I get final editing approval.” Matt stalked off the stage and waved at his assistant. “Set up for the second test.”
A few minutes later, the fake wall had been removed and the stage reordered. A long dining-room table was moved under the lights, set with so many dishes and silverware, barely a few inches of tablecloth showed. Matt stood to the side, smirking, as if he was sure Carrie couldn’t possibly master the table. The floor director counted down again, then gave them the go signal.
Daniel climbed onto the stage and pulled out the captain’s chair for Carrie. “Your seat, miss?”
She settled into the chair, and waited while he pushed it into place. Daniel reached forward, shook out Carrie’s napkin and laid it across her lap. “Why thank you, kind sir.”
“All part of the service.” He moved to the seat on her left and laid his napkin across his lap. Across from them, the camera watched everything with its steady red eye.
The first course—soup—was brought out by a production assistant who also poured them some wine and water. Daniel, who she knew had dined in several five-star restaurants over the course of his career, as the guest of some of his influential interview subjects, had no problem picking out the right silverware. Carrie, who had been at many a formal dinner before, also chose the right spoon without a problem. On the sidelines, Matt paced.
“Tell me about your country,” Daniel said as he reached for a roll and the butter knife. “What is Uccelli like?”
“It’s beautiful.” A quiet smile stole across her face. “It sits along the coast, and every day is kissed with the scent of the ocean. The castle was built hundreds of years ago, high atop a rocky cliff. It looks out over the country, like a benevolent parent. The citizens are warm and welcoming, and if you visit there, count on making some new friends.”
Across the room, Carrie heard the soft click of a door shutting. She couldn’t see past the bright lights of the stage, so she returned her attention to Daniel.
“Uccelli sounds like Utopia,” he said.
Carrie laughed. “It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty great.”
“Sounds like a wonderful place to visit.”
“It is indeed.” Her gaze met his and for a moment, she wondered if maybe someday he would visit the country with her or to see her. Because she already couldn’t imagine a day when she wouldn’t see him.
“What brought you to America?” he asked.
She put her spoon down and crossed her hands on top of each other. “Several reasons. I wanted to experience living in the United States, just as my sister did a year ago. And I wanted to bring the best of Uccelli, of our wines, to this country. We launched a test market here in Indiana in the town of Winter Haven.”
“I’ve heard wonderful things about the Uccelli wines. Rumor has it that the store is doing well.”
Outside the range of the cameras, Matt was gesturing at them to keep eating. Assistants stood to the side, holding platters of food, and looking hesitant about bringing them to the table. Carrie ignored them all and focused her attention on Daniel.
But the truth still tossed and turned inside her, and for the hundredth time, she wondered if she’d made a huge mistake by coming here today.
“We’ve, uh, been very blessed to be welcomed by the tourist community here,” Carrie said.
“And I’m sure it helps that a princess from Uccelli, one who has worked in the vineyards herself, is here to answer questions.”
She shifted in her chair. Glanced at the camera, then back at Daniel. “I’d like to think the wines would be a good seller, with or without a princess working in the store.”
Princess? You mean fraud, right?
She shushed her thoughts. All they did was distract her, and she really needed to concentrate on the interview.
Daniel leaned back in his chair and took a sip of water. “Did you always work in the vineyards?”
“Off and on during my childhood, but it became my full-time job after college.”
He chuckled. “That explains why you aren’t the embroidery or ball gown type.”
She laughed. “Definitely. I love working in the vineyards because it has real results that you can see, measure, taste. I love watching something I tended grow, and become a product that people can enjoy. I’ve worked in virtually every part of the vineyard, and now I’m here to learn the retail end of the business, while also putting my sales and marketing degree into use.”
“Why did you choose Winter Haven as your test market?”
These were the easy questions, the ones she could respond to nearly by rote. She relaxed a little more, releasing the tight knot in her gut. “Winter Haven had all the qualities we were looking for in a test market. It’s the perfect small touristy area with a growing interest in wines. People here don’t have access to as many of the European wines as a place like, say, Boston or New York would. These are the very people we want to get excited about Uccelli’s product. But mostly, I chose Winter Haven because it’s a town my mother spoke of often, and fondly. She had such wonderful mem…” Carrie’s voice trailed off. Her mother’s memories. Had they all been lies, too? Was the only thing that made this town wonderful a man she’d had an affair with?
Carrie’s gaze went to somewhere else, and Daniel was faced with the one thing all reporters dreaded.
Dead air.
“Wonderful what?” he prompted.
“Uh, memories. It’s a wonderful town.” A flush filled Carrie’s face.
Daniel glanced at her. “Are you okay?”
“She’s just fine,” Matt called out, as he stepped onto the stage.
“What the hell are you doing? Get off the stage.” Daniel turned to the camera crew. “Cut!”
“No can do. I told you I had a surprise in store for you two.” Matt made a circular motion, telling the camera people to keep rolling.
Daniel jerked to his feet, but before he could say anything, Matt was already talking. What the hell was going on? Daniel had made his plans clear, and now Matt was thrusting his big feet into the process.
“You fail this princess test, Carlita Santaro, if that’s your real name,” Matt said to her, a leer spreading across his face. “Because it turns out you’re not really a princess, are you?”
Daniel’s gut churned. He saw the piece of paper in Matt’s hand. Knew it well. Too well. Why hadn’t he shredded it? Why had he left it in the file?
Carrie’s jaw dropped. “I…how did you find out?”
Matt clapped a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Our intrepid reporter here uncovered the truth. I knew he was hiding something. Too busy working the touchy-feely, I-like-the-princess angle to bring out the truth. Your daddy isn’t the king, is he?”
“How could you?” she said to Daniel. Her face paled. She pushed back her chair and got to her feet. “I’m sorry, I…I have to go.”
Then she bolted off the stage. Daniel scrambled to his feet and followed after her. Matt screamed at the cameramen to follow their movements, and the trio of red eyes swung around. Lights came on in the studio, illuminating everything.
“Carrie, wait!”
She spun around. “How could you do this? How could you spring this on me on camera? I trusted you!”
“I had no intentions of telling anyone, Carlita. I swear.”
“Stop calling me that! I’m not her! I’m not the third princess of Uccelli. I’m not even a Santaro. And you knew that and exploited it. The job first, people second, huh? I thought you were different. I was wrong. So wrong.” Then she turned away and took two steps before she stopped. Her jaw dropped and she let out a gasp.
Annabelle stood there, staring at Carrie, disappointment filling her tiny delicate face. Daniel’s mother stood behind her granddaughter, a protective hand on Annabelle’s shoulder. “You’re not a princess?” Annabelle asked.
“I’m…I’m sorry, Annabelle. I really am.” Before Daniel could reach her, Carrie ran from the room. The heavy studio door shut behind her with a thud.
Daniel stood on the other side. How had that gone so horribly wrong? He wheeled around. “What did you do?” He resisted the urge to throw Matt out the window, and instead clenched his fists at his sides.
“I told the story you were too afraid to tell. ‘Inside Scoop’s Princess Test Exposes Fake Princess.’” Matt put air quotes around the words. “Oh, that’s going as the lead story. I can’t wait to have CBS calling me for footage of our little fake princess exposé.”
“You can’t do that. You’re exploiting her for ratings.”
“And? What’s wrong with that? It’s what the people in our industry do every day.”
“Not me,” Daniel sai
d. His disgust with his job, with this boss, with the entire production, had reached epic proportions. This wasn’t who he was. Wasn’t the kind of man he wanted to be. “Not anymore.”
“Right. Like you wouldn’t have sacrificed your right arm to have a story like this when you worked in New York. Why you shoved that little tidbit into a file instead of using it, I’ll never know. That was pure ratings gold.”
“The other Daniel Reynolds, the one I used to be, would have used it. That one made a lot of mistakes over the course of his life. But this Daniel Reynolds says…I quit.” He threw up his hands and for the first time since he’d come to work at Inside Scoop, he felt good about himself. “I’m not that man anymore. And I’m tired of pretending I am.”
Then he gathered two of the three people who meant the most to him in the world—his mother, his daughter, one holding each hand—and walked out of the studio.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE window seat offered no comfort. After leaving the studio, Carrie had come back to the rental cottage, curled up with a glass of iced tea and a blanket, and instead of feeling relaxed, she felt tense, nervous. Anxious.
But most of all, distraught that Annabelle had to see that scene today. If Carrie had known the little girl was there, she never would have said anything. What a mess. And worse, one she’d caused all by herself. First, by agreeing to that crazy princess test, and second by blurting out the one thing she’d wanted to keep quiet.
She thought she’d tamed that impulsive streak of hers. That finally, here, working in the shop with her future at stake, she had learned to think first and act later. Apparently not.
Daniel had tried calling her twice already, but she’d let the calls go straight to voice mail. He was a problem she didn’t want to deal with. Not now.
Chances were he only wanted his follow-up interview anyway. The one where he got the truth about her parentage, then broadcast it to the world. She closed her eyes, already seeing the future ahead. The wine shop would maybe survive, but she had no doubt sales would drop. And Uccelli wines would forever be tainted by their relation to her. Not to mention how her parents were going to react.
