by Noelle Adams
“Lisette, baby, what’s the matter? Talk to me!”
He was crouching in front of me, and the concern in his voice made everything worse.
He still didn’t know.
He’d been interviewing for his dream job for the past two hours.
I managed to show him my phone, my hands shaking helplessly as I handed it to him.
He took the phone, frowning as he peered down at the screen.
“Oh God!” he breathed, as he processed the story. “Oh… God!”
It felt like everyone on the street was staring at us, laughing at us, knowing exactly what we’d done the night before. Although rationally I knew this wasn’t true, I couldn’t stand anyone looking at me right now. “I need to go home,” I managed to whisper, surprised that my voice worked in any way. “Can you take me home, to Victoria’s?”
“Yes.” Alex’s voice wasn’t right either, but his expression had closed down over whatever he was feeling, revealing nothing. “Let’s go home.”
***
He drove us the few hours back to Villemont, and we didn’t talk much the whole way.
I was barely capable of speaking, much less having a rational conversation on what had happened and what we should do about it. Alex must have been really upset too because he didn’t try to press me on how I was feeling.
He drove me straight to Victoria and Edward’s big estate, midway between Villemont and Geneva. When he put the car into park at the front entrance, he came around to open the door for me.
Normally, I would have gotten out myself, but I was having trouble making myself move.
“Lisette, talk to me,” he said after he helped me to my feet. He kept his hands on my shoulders.
“I…” My voice broke on the one syllable. I had to swallow and clear my throat. “I can’t even… even process it.”
“I know. It’s appalling. I’m sure it’s like your worst nightmare. I’m so sorry.”
It wasn’t my worst nightmare, but it was really horrible. Being an introvert and so protective of my privacy made it even worse than it might be to other people. But I recognized guilt in his apology, and I couldn’t stand for that. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Not the picture, but…” His face twisted, and he didn’t finish the sentence.
“The sex wasn’t your fault. We did that together.”
He just nodded, his eyes scrutinizing my expression as if he were trying to read all the secrets I was hiding.
There was at least one secret that I still didn’t want him to know.
“The story won’t last long,” Alex said after a minute. “People lose interest quickly.”
“What about your job?” I asked, still trying to swallow over the pain in my throat. “Will it be a problem for you?”
“I can’t imagine why. If it is, then that wasn’t the job for me.”
It was his dream job. He was being generous right now, but I’d never forgive myself if this tabloid story affected his reputation and prevented him from getting the career he’d worked so hard for.
“I just hate… hate how sleazy it all seems,” I managed to say. “It wasn’t like that, but now it all feels… feels cheap.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.” He gently stroked my hair back from my face.
His expression was so torn and full of feeling that I felt a little spark of hope for the first time since that morning. “It would be different if… if we were in a relationship. Then the world wouldn’t think it was so sleazy.”
He let out a sigh. “I know. But we can’t pretend to be in relationship just to change the nature of the story.”
“I know. I didn’t mean… pretend.” I stumbled over the last words, realizing I was somehow revealing far more of my own feelings than I’d intended to reveal to Alex.
Alex dropped his hands, his eyes searching my face. “Lisette, no,” he murmured, giving his head a little shake and dropping his eyes.
Well, that was clear enough.
It was almost exactly the way it had been when I was sixteen. He was telling me—yet again—that he could never want me that way.
No matter how old I got, I just never learned my lesson.
It hurt even more now than it had before.
“All right,” I managed to say. “I’m heading in. I’ll… I’ll talk to you later.”
His face was stiff now, and his eyes were masked. I couldn’t read any of his feelings. At all. “We should probably… take a break for a while, so as not to encourage more stories.”
Oh God, it was worse than anything I could have imagined.
I was going to lose his friendship too.
Tears swelled behind my eyes, but I managed not to let them fall. “All right,” I agreed, mostly just to end this heartbreaking conversation. “Goodbye then.”
I turned around and started to take the first step up the front stairs.
“Lisette.”
I paused at the hoarse sound of him saying my name. I looked at him over my shoulder.
I caught a glimpse of deep emotion twisting on his face before he controlled it, and it was gone so quickly I couldn’t recognize exactly what it was. “I’m sorry.”
Of course he was sorry. He would never have wanted to hurt me.
“I know,” I managed to say before I turned back and walked up the stairs.
He stood in place and watched me until I made it in through the front door, where Victoria was waiting to comfort me and maybe help me find a way out of this mess.
At the moment, I was absolutely convinced there was no way out for me.
Eight
Five days later, I was feeling exhausted and faintly nauseated as I sat at the breakfast table in the palace across from my mother.
I hadn’t been sure my stomach could even handle coffee this morning, so I was drinking tea. While I liked tea in the afternoon, I hated to have to drink it in the morning, and this small detail felt like the last indignation I could handle after the last week I had lived through.
I couldn’t remember ever being more miserable in my life.
“My dear,” my mother said after looking up from her coffee to study me. “I realize you’ve had a small setback, but don’t you think it’s time for you to perk up?”
Perk up? She wanted me to perk up?
“I’m trying,” I said, telling her the truth. I’d been trying for five days now, ever since I got back from Provence and said goodbye to Alex.
I’d stayed with Victoria for the first two days, but eventually I’d had to come back home to the palace.
“Tabloids will always do what tabloids do. The important thing is that we not let them alter how we behave. Then they truly win.”
It was more than the tabloid photos. That was a true outrage and humiliation, and it would have taken me a while to get over it—even under different circumstances.
But my real problem was a broken heart.
I normally would have turned to Alex for comfort, but I couldn’t even talk to him about it.
He wasn’t responding to my texts or calls. He’d been serious about taking a break from me.
“Why don’t you pay a visit to Alexander,” my mother said as if she had read my mind. “He’s always been able to make you feel better.”
I gaped at her. “You want me to go talk him? After those horrible photos?”
Her delicately arched eyebrows drew together. “Well, it wasn’t his fault, was it? Surely you can’t be foolish enough to believe he arranged for them or—”
“Of course not! But I didn’t think you’d want me to have anything to do with him now, after the world found out I was… with an employee…”
“Naturally, were he still on the payroll, I would discourage any further liaisons. It would be inappropriate, after all, for a princess to have such a relationship.”
Leave it to my mother to call what had happened between Alex and me a liaison.
Then I realized exactly what she’d said.
“Wh
at do you mean were he still on the payroll?” I asked sharply. “He’s not on the payroll anymore?”
“Of course not. You didn’t think he’d remain an employee of the royal household after such a thing occurred.”
I almost choked on my tea. “You fired him?” My voice was raised, but there was no way to contain my outrage. “You fired Alex?”
My mother tsked her tongue but didn’t reply immediately because Henry was just entering the breakfast room. He wore tailored trousers and a blue dress shirt and looked perfectly pulled together.
He was frowning at me slightly as he headed for the coffee. “He was going to resign in a few weeks, after he finishes his degree, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, yes, of course. But still, I can’t believe you actually fired him!”
“Nonsense. I didn’t fire him. His father took care of it as soon as the photos were made public. He didn’t even need to be told. What did you think would happen?”
I shook my head, feeling even worse now, trying to imagine how Alex would feel. “He’s worked for us all his life. Now he’s going to think we’re ashamed of him.”
“Nonsense,” my mother said again. “He’s an exceptionally clever, levelheaded boy. He probably would have resigned on his own. He’ll understand how much more awkward this situation would be if he were still working for us.”
Part of my mind could understand this, could understand everything—including the fact that Alex only had a few more weeks on the job anyway.
But the rest of me was screaming about Alex being treated this way.
“He’ll understand what’s happening, Lisette,” Henry said quietly, bringing a full plate over to the table and sitting down. “He’s not an idiot.”
“And since he’s no longer an employee,” my mother added, “I don’t understand why you haven’t talked to the boy. He’s always known how to make you feel better.”
It was true. All my life, I’d turned to Alex whenever I was upset.
That was why I felt so much worse now. Even that comfort had been stripped away.
I shook my head. “He said we should take a break. So the story can die down more quickly.”
“Very sensible. But if you’re not seen together publicly, I can’t imagine how visiting him should be a problem.” My mother stared at me over her teacup, looking vaguely baffled. “You are…” She cleared her throat. “From those photos, I had assumed your relationship had deepened from friendship. Is that not true?”
At another time, I would have been amused by my very proper mother trying to ask a question without actually saying the words, but nothing was amusing to me at the moment.
I shook my head, trying to keep my composure. “You wouldn’t want that, would you? I mean, you could never support such a relationship, could you?”
Her eyes widened. “Why on earth not? Naturally, you couldn’t form an attachment to an employee. But did he not sit right in that chair at breakfast not two weeks ago and tell me he was going to be a marketing executive and then form his own company? That is a perfectly respectable job and has excellent earning potential. He would be a fine match for you, if he is who you choose.”
I stared at her, wide-eyed and utterly astonished.
Henry laughed.
“Why do you look so surprised, my dear?” she asked. “Have I not been Amalie and Jack’s biggest supporter?”
That wasn’t exactly how I would describe her response to Amalie’s relationship, but it was true that she’d eventually come to terms with it.
“Plus Alexander has the grace not to take a job in the hinterlands. Provence is an easy trip. You wouldn’t be far away.”
“He doesn’t have the job yet,” I murmured, saying the most trivial thing first.
“I have no doubt he will get it.” My mother cleared her throat. “So now that is clarified, why don’t you pay him a visit? You will feel much better, I’m sure.”
It was only then that I remembered a far deeper problem than my mother’s support.
I shook my head. “He doesn’t want a relationship.”
“Nonsense,” my mother said crisply.
“He doesn’t. He told me.”
“I don’t believe that for a moment.”
I stared at my mother and then over to Henry, hoping to elicit some help with this conversation.
Henry had been amused before—over my mother’s surprising response—but he was frowning now. He looked more confused than unhappy. “It does sound wrong.”
I made an outraged noise. “What’s wrong with the both of you? If he’s not interested, he’s not interested. I can’t just change his mind!”
“Maybe you should talk to him again,” Henry said.
“I’m not going to go over and beg him to take me!”
“Not beg. Just talk.” His forehead was still wrinkled as he was thinking through the situation. “Something doesn’t sound right.”
“What doesn’t sound right?” I was growing so upset by the turn of this conversation that my voice was slightly shrill. “We’ve only ever been friends. And, as you well know, men aren’t tripping all over themselves to romance me.”
“We’re not talking about men,” my mother said. “We’re talking about Alexander Georgeson. He’s always had love in his eyes for you. A mother sees these things.”
I was quite sure this was just her imagination, but I had no idea how to argue with her—and it hurt too much to keep repeating how much Alex didn’t love me.
“Talk to him,” Henry repeated, nodding as if the matter were resolved. “Something isn’t right.”
I released my breath in a loud gust. “Fine. I will. But I’m telling you it’s a hopeless cause.”
Despite my words and all the rational thought in my brain, I felt a little flutter of hope for the first time in five days.
***
It was midmorning by the time I’d worked up enough courage to walk over to Alex’s apartment.
I was so nervous by the time I got there that I could barely catch my breath. I managed to knock a few times on the door.
I heard some rustling from inside, but the door didn’t open.
“Alex,” I said. “Please let me in.”
“You shouldn’t be here, Lisette.” He was obviously standing right next to the door, his voice close but slightly muffled by the barrier. “Go away.”
“I’m not going to go away. I need to talk to you.” My throat was tightening now, as the little flutter of hope died an instant death.
He wasn’t in love with me. He didn’t even want to see me.
“There’s nothing to say, and you’re making it worse by being here.”
“Alex, please.”
He didn’t answer.
I knocked on the door again, feeling all the emotion from the past few days rising in an aching lump in my throat.
He still didn’t reply.
I kept knocking.
“Lisette, stop it,” he said curtly.
For some reason his tone completely pushed me over the edge. I started to sob as I continued knocking.
“Oh, damn, Lisette,” he muttered, his voice now hoarse. “Please don’t cry.”
There was no way I could help it. I was crying and knocking and pleading with him through the door. “Alex, please let me in. Please, please!”
I was leaning against the door slightly, so I almost fell when it swung open without warning.
Then Alex was pulling me into his arms.
I sobbed against his chest, all the feelings I’d tried so hard to keep control of, keep inside, spilling out helplessly in a messy storm.
“Oh my God, Lisette,” Alex was rasping. “Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”
I have no idea how it happened. I’m pretty sure my legs lost the ability to hold me up. But eventually we both ended up on the floor, with me in his lap and Alex holding me very tightly.
I cried for a long time before I was able to pull myself together.
I was so e
xhausted and embarrassed afterward that I hid my face in his shirt. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I just lost it.”
“I know you did. I’m sorry you’re so upset. I’m sorry I did it to you.” He was stroking my hair as he spoke.
This sentiment caused me to straighten up. I met his eyes and rubbed my face with my hands. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not! I’m so sorry you lost your job. I can’t believe we did that to you after how loyal you’ve always been. I promise we’re not ashamed of you. Not even my mother.”
He shook his head. “I don’t care about that, Lisette. I only care about you—and it is my fault you were put in this position. Those horrible pictures.”
I leaned forward, resting my head against his shoulder again. I did feel better—just being with him like this. The world didn’t feel quite so bleak and pitiless. “That was terrible. It really was. But it’s not the worst thing.”
“What’s the worst thing?” He was stroking my hair again.
“Losing you.”
“You haven’t lost me, Lisette.”
“Yes, I have. You won’t even return my calls.”
He let out a little groan. “I know. I know. I just didn’t know what else to do. I can’t… I evidently can’t control myself around you. I want you too much.”
He sounded resigned, almost depressed, like he was admitting the sad truth of his heart.
It took a moment for his words to process. When they did, I gasped and straightened up again. “What?”
His brows lowered. “What, what?”
“What did you say?”
“I said I can’t control myself around you. I thought I could— I mean, I’ve been doing so good for years in not giving in to… But I seem to have lost it lately. I can’t help myself. So I thought it best for me to stay away.”
“I don’t want you to control yourself!”
He frowned. “Lisette, I’m not sure you understand how desperately I want you. If I don’t control myself, we can never be friends.”
“I don’t want to be friends. I mean, I don’t want to just be friends. I want you too. Didn’t you know that?”
“I know you wanted me for your first time, and that meant the world to me. But I’m not like Stefan. I’m not an appropriate man for you. I’m a servant—”
