The Prince's Devious Proposal
Holly Rayner
Contents
The Prince's Devious Proposal
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
The Prince's Baby Mystery
Chapter 1
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Also by Holly Rayner
The Prince's Devious Proposal
Copyright 2020 by Holly Rayner
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
“Morning, Naomi!”
Naomi looked up from the invoices she had been alphabetizing to see Betty, a cheerful, plump woman in her mid-fifties, walking through the front doors.
Naomi smiled back. Betty’s good cheer was impossible to resist, even when Naomi herself was in a bad mood.
Betty dropped a banana nut muffin on the reception desk. “I saw this at the coffee shop and thought of you,” she said. “Banana nut is my daughter’s favorite. She’s just your age, you know.”
“I remember,” Naomi said with a smile. “Thanks, Betty. This was really thoughtful. Next time, you’ll have to let me bring you breakfast.”
“Oh, don’t even think of it,” Betty said. “You know I just like to see a smile on your face.”
“Did you bring one for me?” came another, far less welcome voice.
Naomi turned to see Rick Darren walking toward them from his private office at the back of the building. When he gave tours to visitors from other companies or prospective employees, Rick liked to tout the merits of the open-plan office, with its cubicles and shared spaces. But Naomi couldn’t help noticing that that philosophy hadn’t stopped her boss from claiming a room for himself.
“Good morning, Mr. Darren.” Betty was the only one in the office who referred to Rick that way. Naomi thought it was probably a generational thing. “This is just a little gift for Naomi. Something to brighten her day.”
Rick’s smile barely flickered. “You’d better get to your desk now, Betty. The phones are already ringing.”
“Of course,” Betty said, hurrying away as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
Rick frowned at Naomi. “You shouldn’t be having breakfast at your desk,” he said.
She nodded. “I’ll just wrap it up and save it for my break.”
Rick leaned on the desk. “We should really have a talk sometime about all the breaks you’ve been taking.”
“Is there a problem?” Naomi asked. She knew perfectly well that she wasn’t in violation of corporate policy—two fifteen-minute breaks per day were written into the employee handbook, along with a forty-minute lunch break.
“Our corporate culture is one of dedication and zeal,” Rick said. “In fact, those are our core values.” He pointed to the wall behind him, where the two words had been appliquéd in giant red letters.
Naomi nodded. She could hardly forget; she stared at that wall all day.
“Just look at Jason,” Rick said, indicating Naomi’s coworker with a wave of his hand.
Jason was tall and blond with perfect teeth, which he flashed at Naomi at the sound of his own name. He was leaning back in his chair, clearly on the phone with a customer.
“Jason has been our employee of the month for the past three months because of his dedication and zeal,” Rick said. “He arrives early. He stays late. He never takes breaks—or days off for illness.”
Jason works on commission, Naomi thought. The more he worked, the more he earned. She, on the other hand, was salaried. She would earn the same amount of money whether she took her breaks and sick days or not.
And by law, I’m entitled to them.
But that was an old argument between herself and Rick. Naomi would not have it again. Not today.
Rick knocked on her desk twice, grinning as if to suggest that he’d given her something to think about, and wandered off.
Feeling angry and rebellious, Naomi took a big bite of her muffin, letting the crumbs spill all over the invoices she had been working on.
He’s a horrible boss. I’ll never forgive him.
The problems between the two of them had come to a head six months ago, when Naomi’s mother had lost her long battle with cancer. Assuming she would be afforded some time off for bereavement, Naomi had flown from LA to New York to be with her sister Sarah after the funeral.
She hadn’t been gone a day when she’d received an email from the company informing her that she was using her own vacation time. The email had contained a very cold reminder that while employees were given ten vacation days per year, the use of more than five was grounds for the loss of your yearly bonus. Though you couldn’t officially be threatened with disciplinary action for using vacation days, it was well known around the office that Rick kept track of who forewent their time off. Those were the people who deserved praise. Those were the people who upheld the core values of zeal and dedication.
And Naomi had been afraid. Though she had ached for more time with her sister, time during which she could start to heal from their shared loss, she needed this job too badly to risk making an enemy of Rick. She had hurried back home and returned to work, doing her best to act as though nothing had happened.
Betty knew what Naomi had been through. That was why she reached out in little ways like bringing muffins. And it helped. It was good to know that someone was still thinking of her, making sure that she ate and took care of herself.
God knew Rick didn’t care.
Coming to work here every day had been torture ever since. She hated Rick. She hated the sight of him. And she hated that her labor was contributing to his success.
Every day, she wished she could quit this job. But the idea of being out of work, of having to apply for something else, was overwhelming. She couldn’t face it. And so, day after day, she dragged herself to the office, sat at her desk, and put up with Rick’s snide comments about how she wasn’t dedicated enough to her job because she did things like eat lunch and go home at the end of the day.
Of course, her life hadn’t always been like this.
As she so often did at work, Naomi allowed herself to drift away into a fantasy.
Different cities every week. Her name—Naomi West—on posters and marquees. And the feeling of walking out onto a brightly lit stage, her guitar slung over her shoulder, taking her place before the microphone, and beginning to play to a packed house.
It felt like something that had happened to someone else. Something that had been a part of someone else’s life.
But it had been hers. For a few short months after college, she had actually found a measure of success with her music. Her first single, “Starlight Boy,” had been a surprise hit on both the country and pop charts.
Naomi had always been passionate a
bout her music, but she’d never expected it to take her anywhere. She had assumed throughout her education that once she graduated, she would have to settle down and get a real job.
But that hadn’t happened. Not right away. Instead, one of her favorite bands, the Desert Flowers, had approached her with an offer to join them on their next national tour.
It had been an easy decision. Nothing could have persuaded Naomi to turn the opportunity down.
She’d spent five months on the road with the Flowers, playing sold-out arenas in cities she’d never visited before. Of course, it wasn’t her name that had sold the tickets. She was popular, yes, but she was still an up-and-comer, and she’d really only had one song that anybody knew. The Flowers were the famous band, the one everyone was coming to see.
But there was nothing like performing for a massive crowd.
Every bit of it had been exciting. Naomi had loved seeing a little bit of Naomi West merchandise at the table with the piles of Desert Flowers T-shirts and tote bags. She had loved the chaotic, jubilant feeling when the show came to an end and they all piled back on the bus to drive to their next destination.
She’d loved the Flowers, the way they had made her feel included in everything they did offstage, as if she was just another member of the group. And sometimes, of course, they had stayed in luxurious hotel suites, the kinds of places the Flowers could afford and Naomi would never have been able to pay for on her own.
But the best part of that time in her life had been sharing energy with the crowds. When a set had been going particularly well, she had been able to feel them responding to the music. It had driven her to perform even better, with even more emotion than she might have otherwise. Performing live was like no other feeling in the world, and Naomi missed it desperately.
Unfortunately, she had never come up with another hit song. Eventually, the tour with the Flowers had ended, and she had had to come back home. And then it had been time to get a job.
Six years later, here she was. Twenty-nine years old and already a has-been, the best times in her life behind her, working for a man who treated her as if she was a resource instead of a person.
She hated it here.
The day dragged, dull and monotonous. When the time for Naomi’s usual morning break came, she decided to forego it. She sensed that Rick was watching her, and she didn’t want to provoke disciplinary action. It was infuriating.
I’m entitled to my breaks, she thought angrily. Even though she didn’t particularly need a break, it bothered her to acquiesce to Rick’s unreasonable demands.
Finally, as the day was drawing to a close, Betty came back up to the front desk to visit her.
“I hope you didn’t get into any trouble for the muffin,” she said anxiously.
“No trouble,” Naomi assured her. “And it was delicious. Thank you for thinking of me. You made my morning a little bit nicer.”
“Oh, don’t mention it,” Betty said, waving a hand at her. “You’re my favorite person in this office, you know that.”
“Don’t let the others hear you saying that,” Naomi said with a smile.
A knocking on the office doors interrupted them. Naomi looked over and saw a deliveryman standing outside holding a bunch of flowers. He noticed her looking, waved, and pointed at the bouquet in his hand.
“I’ll get it,” Betty said. Ordinarily, it would have been Naomi’s responsibility to answer the door, but it wasn’t uncommon for other members of the staff to do so if they were in the area.
Betty let the man in and he approached the reception desk, holding out the flowers.
“Delivery?” Naomi asked him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned toothily at her.
“What’s the name?”
“Naomi West.”
She was momentarily stunned. “Me?”
“That’s what it says on the shipping label,” the deliveryman said. “You’re Naomi West?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Sign here, then,” he said and placed a clipboard on the desk.
Naomi took it, signed, and accepted the flowers. “Thank you,” she said as he turned to go.
He lifted a hand in farewell. “Whoever your admirer is, he picked a nice bouquet for you.”
When the deliveryman was gone, Betty turned excitedly to Naomi. “You have an admirer! What’s going on? Are you dating someone?”
“No,” Naomi said. She was utterly mystified. “I haven’t even seen my best friends in weeks.” In the months since her mother’s death, she just hadn’t felt like being social, and she spent most evenings at home by herself. “I don’t know who could have sent these.”
“Maybe your sister?” Betty suggested.
“Maybe,” Naomi said doubtfully. “But it isn’t really the kind of thing Sarah would do. We get along just fine, but we’re not close or anything.”
“And it’s not your birthday or anything, is it?” Betty asked.
“No,” Naomi said. “It’s no occasion at all. This is completely out of the blue, as far as I can tell.”
“See if there’s a card,” Betty said.
Naomi began to poke among the blooms. After several moments, she unearthed a little plastic stick that held the kind of greeting card often found in flower shops. About the size of a business card, it was enclosed in a small pink envelope, “Naomi West” written on the front.
Naomi showed the card to Betty.
“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Betty said, gesturing to Naomi to keep going. “Open it. Let’s see what it says.”
“Are you two ladies gossiping on company time?” Rick’s voice cut in.
God. He had the capacity to ruin everything without even trying.
“We’re not gossiping,” Betty said. “These flowers were just delivered for Naomi, and she was about to open the card to see who sent them.”
“You really shouldn’t take personal deliveries at work,” Rick said. “It’s unprofessional.”
Naomi frowned. She knew for a fact that Rick had his subscriptions to several automotive magazines delivered to the office, but there was no way to point that out without being contentious.
“It’s not her fault,” Betty said. “She doesn’t even know who the flowers are from.”
“Then open the card and let’s see,” Rick said.
Naomi really didn’t want to do that with him standing there, but she didn’t see any other choice. She slit the envelope open and pulled out the card.
To Naomi West, from one of your all-time biggest fans. I’m sure you get this all the time—but a Starlight Boy can dream.
Call me?
Petr
Intrigued, she turned the card over and saw that a phone number was written on the back.
“Petr,” Betty said. “Who is Petr?”
“I don’t know,” Naomi admitted. “I’ve never met him, whoever he is.”
“This message is gibberish,” Rick said, leaning over Betty’s shoulder to read it. “A Starlight Boy can dream? What does he mean by that?”
Naomi didn’t answer. She had never been under any illusions about the fact that Rick wasn’t aware of her prior fame, and she’d never made any attempt to tell him about it. She was sure he would ruin it, the way he ruined everything, by making her feel somehow unworthy of it.
“Are you going to call him?” Betty asked.
“If you do, do it on your own time,” Rick said. “I don’t want any more company minutes wasted on your love life, Naomi.” He gave the flowers such a withering look that Naomi was surprised their leaves didn’t turn brown. “Make sure you take those home with you when you go. I don’t want them cluttering up the office.”
Much to Naomi’s relief, he turned and walked away again.
“You’re going to call this guy, right?” Betty prodded her. “You need to get out, Naomi.”
“I don’t know,” Naomi said. “Something about this feels sketchy.”
But she slid the card into her pocket anyway.
There was no need to make up her mind right now.
Chapter 2
She did her best to put the strange message out of her mind, but by the end of the day, she was forced to concede that that was a hopeless endeavor. There was no way she could forget about it.
The card seemed to be burning a hole in her pocket. Petr. Who was Petr? The name sounded foreign. She wasn’t even sure how it ought to be pronounced. Maybe the person’s name was really Peter and the flower shop had just spelled it wrong when making out the card?
But Naomi didn’t know any Peters, so that hardly solved the mystery.
When she left work for the day, she sat in her car for a while, not turning the engine on. She pulled the card out of her pocket and looked at the message.
Call me?
Whatever it was all about, he was completely wrong—she didn’t “get this all the time.” Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She wasn’t even sure what this was.
And the request to call him…
She stood by what she had said to Betty. It did feel strange, sketchy. Flowers arriving at her office from a man she didn’t know. A request for her to call him. She didn’t like feeling so uncertain of what was going on.
But on the other hand, it wasn’t as if it was a mystery how he knew her. The reference to her song, “Starlight Boy,” made that pretty obvious. And he had said himself that he was a fan.
The question was, how had he come to learn where she worked?
Naomi had fallen into the habit of thinking of her music career and her current life as two completely separate things, with nothing to connect them. The things that had been everyday occurrences when she’d been younger and on tour would be completely out of place in her world now. For example, once she and the Desert Flowers had been as close as family. But if any members of the band had shown up at her office today and asked to take her out to lunch, she would have been floored.
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