by A. C. Arthur
“Nine o’clock,” he continued saying. “Not a moment before or after. I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you mess this up.”
Figuring she definitely did not want to know what was going on at nine o’clock, Landry moved back inside and closed the balcony doors. Snapping the lock into place, she walked away telling herself that she shouldn’t have been listening to something that wasn’t her business. After all, she had no idea who was talking anyway.
Her business was getting this dress approved so that in several more days Malayka could walk into the ballroom wearing a Detali original and stun everyone in the room. Landry knew for a fact there would be press at the Ambassador’s Ball. In addition to the local reporters, Malayka had been sure to issue a press release to the international media. She’d invited Hollywood producers and Wall Street giants, US and European politicians and their wives. It was as if this were the actual wedding, Landry thought when she’d watched Malayka working her own press coverage. But the soon-to-be princess was adamant about documenting her rise to the throne on a national level.
So, for Landry, that meant Detali Designs would also go national, and with it, Landry’s name. A win-win for all involved, she told herself as she checked her watch. Malayka was now very late.
Landry was annoyed.
She could be doing other things besides waiting in this room for Malayka to show up whenever she felt like it. She could be in her room kicking herself for being an idiot.
How could she have slept with someone who was engaged to be married? Well, that answer was pretty simple. She didn’t know Kristian was engaged. Nothing she’d read in the papers had mentioned it and nobody had thought to tell her that important fact. Or rather, it had never occurred to Landry to ask the question. So naive of her to presume that if he were coming on to her that he must be single. She’d thought he was available, just like her. Oh how wrong she’d been.
No wonder he seemed to be struggling with what they were doing; he was cheating. She sighed, so tired of thinking about this over and over again. “I hope those dresses arrived. I’m not going to be a happy camper if they haven’t,” Malayka said as she breezed into the room.
Cheryl McCoy, her makeup artist and Amari Taylor, the hair stylist, followed. Landry had seen these two before, which meant she’d witnessed their superior brand of ass kissing, on more than one occasion. Yet another thing she was not in the mood for today.
“The dresses are here. We can get started right away,” Landry said as she moved to the rack.
“I hope you pick something colorful,” Cheryl spoke with too much excitement. “I’d love to do something lavish with your eyes for this event.”
“I don’t think lavish is a word that should be attached to a princess,” Landry mumbled.
Or at least she thought she’d mumbled. As it turned out the others had heard her and after she unzipped the first garment bag she looked over her shoulder to see them staring at her critically. With a shrug she continued to take the first dress out of the bag.
“It’s black.” Cheryl sighed.
“Black is timeless,” Amari added.
He came closer to the rack and reached out to touch the fabric.
“Ooohwee, and it’s satin. That’s going to lie nicely over your body, Layka.” Amari looked over Landry’s shoulder with a grin on his face.
He was a tall man, slim and willowy. His thick eyebrows were perfectly arched and definitely the envy of women all over the world. His wavy hair was cut short, hairline shaped precisely. He wore two diamond stud earrings and black nail polish on two fingers on each hand.
“Satin is so ordinary,” Malayka replied.
Landry was removing the gown when she turned to see that Malayka—thankfully—had stepped behind the screens to the left of the room.
“Let’s decide when we see you in this masterpiece,” Amari continued.
He attempted to take the dress off the hanger, with every intention of walking it over to Malayka, and quite possibly going behind the screen to help her put it on. But Landry gave him a look. Yes, one cool and no-nonsense look that had the man pursing his lips and taking a step back while folding his arms over his chest. She didn’t give his theatrics the glory of a reply, instead she carried the dress over to the screen and handed it to Malayka.
“This is the Dolce & Gabbana. We sent the first two back, so this is the special order,” Landry told Malayka.
Ten minutes later, Malayka had come out to stand in front of the mirror, turning this way and that and getting more opinions than Landry thought were necessary. Her client sighed and told her once more, “Send it back.”
Three dresses and an hour and a half later, Landry was rewarded with, “This dress is brilliant!”
If Landry were in a better mood she might have jumped for joy at that exclamation. Malayka turned, looking over her shoulder to see her backside reflection in the freestanding mirrors.
“Yes! That dress is fiyah!” Amari declared and began clapping his hands.
Cheryl was nodding as she smiled. “I’m gonna have a great time with your makeup. Cannot wait until that ball. You’re going to be the best-looking soon-to-be princess the people of this island have ever seen!”
Landry didn’t speak. She couldn’t because the dress was perfect. It was gorgeous and glamorous, unique and just like Amari had said...fiyah!
And it was the Detali original.
Malayka Sampson had just made her day.
* * *
Skipping dinner was probably cowardly.
And foolish, Landry thought as she took another bite of the granola bar she’d found in the bottom of her purse.
Six more months and she would be leaving this island and all its picturesque beauty. Including the lovely scene ahead of her at the moment. The Cliffs. Landry had read about them in one of the pamphlets she’d picked up when she’d traveled to the City Center in search of a place to mail postcards to her mother. Astelle collected postcards from wherever she went in the world, from tiny towns to big cities. The only postcard her mother had from an actual island was the one Landry had bought her from Saint Bart’s when she’d flown there to assist one of her clients on a photo shoot. Landry was excited to share the pretty cards she’d purchased in one of the quaint little gift shops near Grand Serenity’s port.
She’d found the courier’s office and mailed over a dozen cards home to her mother, imagining the smile on her face when she received them. Then Landry had returned to the palace. Restless, she wasn’t ready for bed and couldn’t bear being stuck in her rooms another minute. So she’d called the number that Jorge had given her and asked him to meet her at the front entrance.
After weeks of being in the palace she’d noticed that everyone left from the back of the property where the garage was. She’d asked Jorge to pick her up in the front once and prayed that he wouldn’t run back and tell Kristian or the others about her strange request. Instead he’d simply done as she’d asked. That had earned him an ice cream cone that Landry had bought from a beautiful shop in town.
If Jorge wondered why she’d called him again so quickly tonight, he hadn’t mentioned it. He simply picked her up and asked where she wanted to go. When she’d said The Cliffs he’d nodded and told her she would love the view from there.
He hadn’t lied. The view was magnificent. Landry had no idea how high up she was but she was standing on the peak of a cliff. Smooth rock was visible beneath her feet; not too far behind patches of grass and shrubbery grew. Down below, far down below, the water was still bright turquoise and clear. At least it would have been if it were daylight. As darkness had already fallen over the island, the water still had a crystalline quality as it shimmered against the edge of the rocks. In the distance she could see boats, their lights like a beacon in the otherwise darkness.
Wrapping her arms
around her chest, Landry stood perfectly still, looking out to sea as she inhaled the sweet island air. She liked it here, she finally admitted. The slow lifestyle and the friendly people. She loved walking down the cobblestone streets in the City Center and looking at the quaint and colorful buildings that crowded the square. When she stood there she only had to tilt her head up slightly to see more colorful dwellings tucked into the mountainside as if nature had put them there. It was majestic and amazing, soothing and invigorating all at the same time.
“Just when you thought you’d made a grand escape.”
Landry jumped and turned, taking a hurried step away from the edge of the cliff before she actually tumbled over, and stared into Roland’s laughing eyes.
In contrast to his brother, Roland always seemed to be happy. Except last night he’d seemed irritated at dinner and then again at the press conference she’d watched on television that afternoon, then he’d appeared contemplative and serious. The press conference was a follow-up to the accident. The police chief had spoken, but Kristian had stood right beside him, his face a mask of consternation. It was, of course, a handsome face, but Landry had been more drawn to the sadness that always seemed to cloud his eyes.
Roland had stood beside Kristian, both men dominant in their own way.
“Not trying to escape,” she told him with a slight smile. “Just needed some air.”
“Hey, I get it,” he said, moving closer to where she stood. “With over fifteen bedrooms, two gourmet kitchens and three, not one or two, but three, ballrooms, the palace definitely has a shortage of air.”
He chuckled and Landry balled the granola bar paper in her hand.
“We also have food in those two gourmet kitchens. Unless you’re on some type of granola diet.”
Landry laughed this time.
“You’re not like the others. I forget that until I’m in your presence,” she admitted.
He shrugged.
“Well, you know, I do my best.”
He smelled good. A musk fragrance that was stronger than Kristian’s cologne. It fit Roland’s bold and brash personality. So did the black dress jeans, fitted beige shirt and black denim jacket he wore.
“You do, don’t you,” she said. “I mean, you try really hard to be the complete opposite of what others believe you are.”
“People shouldn’t judge based on what they see and hear. I’m under no obligation to appease them in that fashion,” he said.
She nodded because she’d taken that same stance in her own life. Landry refused to act the way her parents wanted her to in order to get and keep a man. She had goals and aspirations and had worked her way to checking each of those little boxes off her to-do list without caring who thought it was a good idea or not.
“I agree,” she said. “But then again, I’m not a prince. I’m certain the rules are different for you.”
“Why? Because I happened to be born into a family of rulers? If you hadn’t noticed, we don’t get to select our parents,” he said.
“That’s for sure,” she replied.
“What? You don’t like your parents?”
“To the contrary, I love them. I’m not sure they love me all the time, but that’s a discussion for another day,” she quipped, “or night, I guess.”
“Well,” he said as he came close enough to wrap and arm around her shoulder and pull her close to him. “We should definitely spend some more time together as it appears we may have something in common.”
“What? You have a dysfunctional relationship with your family too? I would have never guessed that one.”
Roland had begun walking them down the hill. Landry had been ready to leave, but she liked talking to him.
“With my father, my sister and, oh yeah, my brother,” he told her.
“Why? Because he’s a liar?” Landry stopped immediately, clapping a hand over her mouth. Dammit, she’d done it again!
“Whoa, what did you just say?”
Landry shook her head, unable to trust herself this time.
“Kris lied to you? About what?”
“It’s nothing,” she said and continued walking. “Besides, I wouldn’t call it a lie since I never asked the question. I guess it’s more of an omission.”
“And what did my perfect big brother omit?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted.
“Obviously it does,” Roland countered.
He touched her elbow, holding her until she stopped moving. Landry sighed.
“I didn’t know he was betrothed,” she said with exaggeration to that last word. She hated that word.
“Betrothed? Kris?” Roland shook his head, then stopped. “Oh, you’re talking about Valora and that crazy deal her father keeps insisting was made.”
“He should have told me that he was promised to someone else. Marrying someone else. Or I should have guessed because isn’t that what royals do?” There was a tree behind her and Landry decided to use it because she was exhausted from thinking about Kristian all day. She leaned back and scrubbed her hands over her face.
“First, he’s not obligated to mention something that doesn’t exist. Valora’s father is an old drunk who loves to gamble. When he was younger—and still drinking quite heavily—he played a game of poker with my aging and already sick grandfather. My father said that Valora’s dad cheated. Of course, Valora’s dad says he did not and that my grandfather lost. The payout was a royal union—a DeSaunters son promised to his daughter, whenever they were born.”
She stared at him incredulously then. “What? Are you serious?”
Roland nodded. “It’s never been true, but Valora’s father tells anyone who’ll listen that it is. That’s why so many islanders believe it to be true, I suppose.”
“Why hasn’t anyone in your family set the record straight?”
“The people of Grand Serenity are a romantic sort,” Roland told her.
He was standing in front of her now, one hand in his front pant pocket, while he rubbed the other hand down the back of his head.
“They look at the palace and the people who live here and believe all the fairy tales they’ve ever read. Marriages are arranged—good matches are made via good families. Valora’s grandfather fought for my grandfather’s army so while they aren’t of royal status, there is loyalty there.”
“Loyalty,” Landry said. “But not enough to really have her and your brother getting married.”
“Kris would never agree to an arranged marriage. He’s too stubborn for something like that. And Valora, she’s as headstrong as my sister. No way those two were ever going to be told who to marry and when.”
Landry didn’t know what to believe. All she knew at this moment was that she had one heck of a headache and she was still hungry.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called him names and I definitely should not have been talking about him to you,” she said and pushed away from that tree. “I’ll be heading back to the palace now.”
“What’s your hurry?” Roland said. “I was just heading out for a little fun, ah... I mean, air. I needed to get some air too.”
He was grinning and Landry liked his grin. Kristian wasn’t engaged to be married, but she still had no business thinking about him or sleeping with him for that matter. What better way to get those thoughts out of her head than to hang out with Roland for a couple of hours.
“Well, I’m sure if anyone knows where the best ‘air’ is on this island, it would be you.”
“You’re absolutely right about that,” Roland told her. “I know just the spot for us to get that air and to talk more about why you were so irritated by the notion that Kris would be engaged and not tell you.”
Landry opened her mouth to rebut that statement but something told her the action would be futile.
Chapter 13
It was Friday night, and Landry felt like a princess.
Never in all her years of loving fashion and dressing people had she ever imagined feeling the way she did tonight.
After the week she’d had, going to the Ambassador’s Ball had been far from her mind. Ordinarily, it wasn’t always her practice to attend the events she dressed her clients for. However, as she’d discovered in the past week, this wasn’t an ordinary assignment.
The last five days had been full of ordering shoes and accessories and praying they would be delivered on time. There had been two more fittings to make sure the Detali dress was a perfect fit for Malayka. She’d skipped a few more dinners in the dining room and avoided Roland’s knowing glances and comments. She hadn’t, however, been able to avoid Prince Rafe when he’d decided that he wanted to speak to her.
On Tuesday, he’d surprised her by sitting at one of the huge quartz-topped islands in the kitchen when she’d been returning from another recycle run.
“You are very conscientious,” he’d said the moment she appeared through the doorway.
Dressed in old jeans and a faded T-shirt, Landry had been shocked and a little embarrassed to be in the prince’s company looking disheveled and tired. She didn’t have a mirror directly in front of her but the way she’d been feeling that day certainly showed.
“Just trying to do my part,” she replied with a small smile. “Having a snack?” Holding a conversation hadn’t really been her idea, but simply walking away from him wasn’t an option either.
“Doctor says I should watch my sugar intake. Eat more fruits and vegetables, he says,” Rafe spoke as he looked down at the bowl of fruit in front of him. “Last time I checked all this fruit had a ton of natural sugar.”
Landry had stepped a little closer to the island and peeped into the bowl. Strawberries, blackberries, kiwi, red grapes and mandarin oranges. The salad looked tasty and refreshing to her, but the prince did not seem impressed.
