The Princess Test

by Shirley Jump

  She poured a glass of Uccelli red, then curled up on the sofa and flicked on the television. As much as she didn’t want to, she should watch the Inside Scoop debacle. Forewarned was forearmed, and she knew she needed to arm herself as well as possible for what was coming next.

  But as the logo for Inside Scoop started to spin into view, her courage faltered and she shut off the television. She got to her feet, grabbed a light denim jacket to ward off the slight evening chill and headed outside. Faith lived only a half mile away on the other side of the lake, and Carrie opted to walk the distance rather than drive. The fresh air felt cool against her hot face and helped clear her head. A little.

  The scent of roasting hot dogs and hamburgers drew her down Faith’s driveway, around her cottage and into the lush green backyard. Several people Carrie knew were already there, as well as a few she didn’t.

  Her gaze scanned the crowd for Daniel, then she chided herself for even caring where he was. Chances were, he was at a bar in town, toasting his new success.

  She considered turning around. It would be so much easier to retreat into solitude, to deal with Daniel’s betrayal while sitting alone in the window seat of her cottage.

  The old Carrie, the one who had been taught to avoid public displays of emotions, the one who had learned the hard way that few friends were true friends, would have done just that. Or she would have run off on some crazy last-minute trip to avoid dealing with reality.

  But the new Carrie, the one who craved normalcy, stayed. Normal people went to their friends when they had a problem. Normal people went to cookouts and let the good food and good company help them forget for a little while. And from here on out, Carrie was going to be normal—

  Whatever that encompassed for her. No more running from her heritage. No more running from her family’s expectations. No more running from herself.

  Faith came over to greet her. “Hey, you’re here earlier than I expected. Did you catch the show?”

  Carrie shook her head. “I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see my life fall apart on television.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t that bad.”

  “And maybe it was worse. Anyway, I think I need something fattening and bad for my arteries.”

  Faith laughed and led Carrie toward the group sitting in lawn chairs around a fire pit. “Well, you came to the right place for that.”

  Two cheeseburgers and a huge handful of potato chips later, Carrie had mastered relaxation, or at least the art of looking relaxed. She sat back in the webbed lawn chair, sipping a glass of Uccelli red, and chatted and laughed with the people around her. Some had been customers, others were Faith’s friends and neighbors, but all of them greeted her warmly and treated her like just another neighbor.

  But inside, her stomach churned with the knowledge that her world had imploded a little while ago, and everything she had worked so hard to build would be destroyed. Her cell phone sat heavy in her pocket. Any second now, she expected it to ring. The only question was whether the national media or her father would call first.

  When her cell phone rang, she excused herself, moved to a quiet corner of the yard and flipped it out. It was the middle of the night in Uccelli, but she wasn’t surprised. Her mother might be the early bird, but her father was the night owl. He preferred, he said, to get his work done while the rest of Uccelli was asleep—and thus unavailable to interrupt him. “Hello, Papa.”

  He didn’t waste time on small talk. “I talked to your mother. And I know you found out the truth about your biological father.”

  She had secretly hoped some miracle would come along and erase what had happened. But it didn’t, and now they had to face the truth. She couldn’t delay any longer in telling her parents the whole story.

  “I’m so sorry, Papa. When he came to talk to me, I had no idea who he was.” She didn’t want to hurt her father. She loved him, and knew this had to be a hard conversation. She wished they didn’t have to have it at all, but deep in her heart, she knew talking about it was better than keeping the information buried any longer.

  “No, it is good that you know. That you met him. He has a right to know you, as well. We should have told you a long time ago, but it’s the sort of thing that is hard to find words to say.”

  “I know, Papa.” She bit her lip and forced herself to tell her father the rest. “There’s a television show here that interviewed me, and one of the reporters there exposed the truth. They were supposed to air it tonight, which means the media will come knocking any second now.”

  She waited for the explosion that was sure to come. Her passionate father had never hesitated about letting her know his opinions on her mistakes. The times when she’d opted out of a family appearance to go racing horses across the fields with one of the staff. Or sneaked off in the middle of a ceremony and taken a taxi back to the castle. Even when she was little, and fidgeting through every castle event, he’d been the one to admonish her.

  “We will deal with that when it hits the wire services,” he said. “Perhaps it is better that the truth is out there.”

  “How can it be? It’ll smear the family name, and that will hurt the vineyard.”

  “Perhaps. Or perhaps it will show people that even a queen can be human. I forgave your mother a long time ago, cara. The pressures of this job and the eyes of the public are like a vise that wrap around your life. They shackle you, and I cannot blame her for wanting a small moment of escape.” He paused a second. “I can’t blame you, either.”

  “I was never a good princess, Papa. You were right all along. I should have taken my royal life more seriously. Settled down on a career a long time ago.”

  “No, my dear, you were the perfect princess.” His voice softened. “This is a difficult life and I only made it more difficult for you. One would think I’d have learned my lesson with your sister, but when you’re a parent and also king, it is hard.”

  “You did fine, Papa.”

  He laughed. “Even I know I was too hard on you. I merely wanted you to have the strong foundation you needed to survive this life. To blossom within the bounds of royalty.”

  “And all I did was run from that as often as I could. And try out nearly every career in the world.”

  “If you ask me, you did the smartest thing. You lived as normal a life as you could. And perhaps in the coming years, that will stand you well. Give you the tools you need to handle this life.”

  Surprise filled Carrie. “I think it will, Papa.”

  “Now that you have had your taste of the world, are you going to return to Uccelli? Or stay there and run the American operation?”

  He was offering her everything she’d ever wanted—the job, the freedom, the support. What she had worked for, what her heart had wanted.

  The operative word was had, though. She glanced up and saw a pair of figures round the corner of Faith’s house. One tall, one short and petite. Carrie caught her breath and tried her damnedest to look like she didn’t care. But she did. Very much.

  Especially when she realized the new guests were Annabelle and Daniel’s mother. And not Daniel.

  Stay here, in America, and have everything she wanted—except one thing. “I don’t know, Papa. Perhaps it would be best if I returned to Uccelli.”

  “The choice is up to you. Either way, I want you working for the vineyards. I have seen the sales reports, Carlita, and I am very proud of the work you have done.”

  She basked in his praise. The validation felt good. Damned good. “Thank you.”

  “I admit, I was a little stubborn when it came to the vineyards. I should have trusted that you knew what you wanted.”

  She laughed. “I didn’t know what I wanted for a long, long time so it’s no surprise that you were a little leery about that. But I know now, Papa. I love the vineyards. Love bringing Uccelli’s wines to the world.”

  “Then that is what you shall do.”

  “Even if I’m no longer princess?”

  “You will always
be my daughter, cara. And you will always be a princess to me. Always.” His words were soft and emotional, filled with honesty, and brought tears to Carrie’s eyes.

  “Oh, Papa, I love you.” Her voice broke, and a happy sob caught in her throat.

  “I love you, too, Carlita.” His words were gruff, telling her that her stalwart father had a tear or two in his eyes, too.

  The words bridged the thousands of miles between them. Richard Parker might be her biological father, but the father of her heart, the one who loved her more than anything in the world, was Franco Santaro. Princess or not, she knew she would always be one in his eyes, and he would always be the king of everything in hers. “I love you,” she whispered again to her father, and their rocky relationship finally began to smooth.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “PRINCESS Carrie!” Annabelle burst into a run and plowed straight into Carrie’s arms. A few feet away, Belle’s grandmother brought up the rear behind the fireball of Annabelle. “I missed you!”

  Carrie’s heart melted. She bent down, wrapped her arms around Annabelle in a tight hug. “I missed you, too, Princess Annabelle.”

  The older woman shook hands with Carrie. “It’s nice to see you.”

  “Same to you.” Carrie smiled. In another life, she suspected she and Greta would have gotten along well. She seemed like the kind of warm woman who would make the perfect mother-in-law.

  In another life. With another woman. Because she and Daniel were done.

  “I was so busy this week,” Annabelle said, with an exaggerated whoosh of exhaustion. “I practiced my princess walk, and I played with Whitney, and Grandma helped me make brownies, and then last night, when I was supposed to be asleep, Daddy came in and…and he set up a tea party!”

  “He did?”

  “Uh-huh. And Daddy came to the party, and Boo-Boo came and Bunny Boy, too. Whitney didn’t come ’cuz she was sleeping. But Daddy and I had fun. I wore my princess crown and my stick shoes.”

  “Sounds like a wonderful time.”

  “Daddy looked silly.” Annabelle giggled. “Even Boo-Boo laughed.”

  So Daniel had finally found the right recipe for a tea party with his daughter. The thought warmed Carrie’s heart, and for a second, she pictured the three of them seated around a table, feigning tea drinking and sandwich nibbling. Then she jerked herself back to reality. She wasn’t going to be with Daniel. Not now. Not ever.

  Because in the end, he had chosen his career over her. And as much as she might enjoy being a part of Annabelle’s life, she couldn’t have a relationship with a man she couldn’t trust.

  When Carrie sat down on the picnic bench, Annabelle clambered into her lap, and when she did, Carrie realized she had made a connection with this girl. One that would last for a long time, perhaps forever.

  Carlita Santaro, the wild child who had done her best to not be tied down to her home, her family or anything else in her life, was permanently tied to this little girl. She couldn’t imagine going back to Uccelli and not seeing Annabelle’s bright, impish face every day. Or not hearing the dozens of questions the inquisitive girl threw out like bread crumbs.

  She was connected. She, the woman who had never wanted to settle down, to have her life forever linked with someone else’s, now felt a keen sense of loss knowing that she had found something incredible and had to let it go. The thought sent tears rushing to her eyes. “Annabelle, I, uh, need to get a drink of water. Do you want to wait here with your grandmother for me?”

  Annabelle nodded. Carrie scrambled to her feet and headed away from the group, seeking solace in the dark stand of trees at the back of the yard.

  Then she saw him, and her thoughts froze. Daniel stopped by the picnic table, greeted his mother with a kiss on the cheek, then stopped when she said something to him. He looked up, his gaze skipping across the guests before coming to rest on Carrie across the yard.

  Heat roared through her veins. She cursed the reaction and tried to find something—anything—to do besides watch Daniel cross the lawn toward her. To fight the anticipation swelling inside her. She diverted from her path and headed back to the fire pit. A roasting stick rested against the chair on her left, and she grabbed it, then poked a marshmallow onto the end and leaned forward, feigning great interest in toasting the white pouf of sugar.

  “I was hoping the fire wouldn’t be going.”

  She glanced up at him, even as she cursed herself for doing so. “Why?”

  A grin curved across his lips, and her traitor heart skipped a beat. “Because then I could have impressed you with my amazing Boy Scout skills.”

  “Well, the fire is burning. And if I don’t watch this, so will my marshmallow.” She jerked her attention back to the stick where a blackened blob now sat instead of the marshmallow.

  “I think it’s already past saving.” Daniel picked up another roasting stick, one with two prongs, and slid a pair of marshmallows onto the ends. “The trick is to keep it away from the flame and just let it toast gently over the hot coals. Keep an eye on it, turn it often, and before you know it, you’ll have what you wanted.”

  “If only it were that simple.” She tossed the ruined treat into the fire, then put her roasting stick aside.

  “It is that simple, Carrie.” He pulled the stick back, then held it out to her, displaying a perfectly golden-brown marshmallow on the end. “For you, milady.”

  She wiggled the sticky dessert off the end and popped it into her mouth. The sugar melted against her tongue, sweet and perfect. She tried not to compare it to kissing Daniel, to hearing his deep voice when he spoke her name—but she failed. “Uh, thank you.”

  Daniel ate the second one, then put the stick back, brushed off his hands and got to his feet. “Can we talk?”

  She should say no. She should stay right here and talk to the other guests. She shouldn’t go anywhere with Daniel Reynolds. “I should…”

  She couldn’t finish the sentence because she didn’t know what to do. More, what she wanted to do. Instead, she let the indecision waver in her voice.

  “Please come with me. I have something I need to tell you.” He put out his hand, and before she could think twice, she put her palm in his.

  She released him as soon as they started walking. She didn’t want to fall into the trap of caring about him, of trusting him again. But as she walked away and heard Annabelle’s lyrical laughter echoing in the yard, her heart ached with a pain that ran bone-deep.

  They walked in silence for a little while, until they reached a low-slung swing that Faith had set up under a willow tree. The graceful branches danced in the slight breeze and formed a soft golden canopy over the swing. Dusk was beginning to fall, giving the tableau a cozy, intimate feel. Across the yard, people talked and laughed, their voices creating a rhythmic melody.

  Carrie took a seat on the swing, but Daniel remained standing. He gripped one of the bars, and smiled down at her. “God, how I’ve missed your beautiful face.”

  She sighed and got to her feet. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Act like everything’s fine when we both know it isn’t.” She started to walk away, but he grabbed her hand and tugged her back to him. She collided with his chest and wanted so badly to curve into that warm strength, to inhale the dark notes of his cologne and to lift her mouth to his. Instead, she turned away, and broke the contact.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have led with that. But I have missed you.” Daniel didn’t release her. He waited until her gaze met his. “Everything is going to be fine, Carrie. I promise.”

  “Maybe for today. I know you’re just waiting to drop that bomb, Daniel. Maybe you’re waiting until you find my real father and drag him in for an interview. Or maybe until you have a chance to fly to Uccelli, ambush my parents and get their reactions.” Panic rose in her throat and arched the pitch in her voice. She could feel her fragile world, one so newly constructed it still seemed to have the wrapping on it, collapsing a
round her. She’d barely had a chance to prove herself with the Uccelli wines, to prove herself as a capable, responsible adult, and now this man was going to send it all tumbling down. Despite her father’s support and confidence, she had seen firsthand too many times the havoc a public scandal could wreak. “I’ve seen those shows. I know what’s going to happen.”

  “I’m not going to do that. Trust me.”

  “Trust you? That’s what I did before. And look where it got me.” She shook her head. Every reporter she had ever known would see a story like this as the break of a lifetime.

  “And where is that?”

  Damn, this man was frustrating. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? Just go do what he was going to do, and stop making her wait in suspense? “What are you talking about?”

  “Did you even watch the show tonight?”

  She shook her head. “I lived it. That was enough.”

  “Well, that explains a few things.” A smile curved across his face, one she wanted to wipe away. Didn’t he understand what this was going to do to her? To the store?

  “Is this just one more story for you? One more notch in your reporter belt?”

  “Not at all. In fact, I think this is the most important story I’ve ever covered.”

  His easygoing attitude infuriated her. He clearly didn’t care. “Why did I ever trust you?” She tried again to turn away, but he refused to let her go.

  “Matt dug in my files, and pulled out that research. Not me. I didn’t give it to him. Carrie, I haven’t done anything that would make you not trust me.”

  “Yes, you have. You—” She paused, searched for the times when he’d lied. He hadn’t lied, exactly, but he had let her down. She had trusted him, and he had broken that trust. “You promised me it would all be okay.” Her voice broke on the last words. She realized now how much that had hurt. “And it wasn’t. At all.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry, Carrie. And I’m doing everything I can to make up for that. To change…everything.” Night birds called to each other from some where behind them, while the party continued, laughter rising and falling in waves. Daniel let out a long breath, then released her and dropped onto the swing. “A long time ago, I broke the most critical promise of all and ever since, it seems like that’s all I ever do—break promises.”