Royal Chase (The Royals of Monterra)
Page 17
Sterling also refused to watch The Walking Dead, even though it was my favorite TV show.
I sighed. I was doing it again.
“It does make you wonder how you’d react in an apocalypse.”
That was one of the reasons I loved the show so much. I liked to imagine myself in that scenario, how I would do it better than the characters and how I would survive. I liked that he had asked the question. “I would kick butt in an apocalypse. I’m an excellent shot.”
“Also useful in a revolution.”
“Are you expecting a revolution?” I couldn’t help but smile. The last people anyone would try to overthrow were Dante’s parents.
“No one ever expects a revolution. It would be nice to know that at least one member of the royal household could shoot her way out.”
“I’m not going to be . . .” I stopped talking and sucked in a breath as he stretched his arms above his head, flexing his arms and showing an expanse of his stomach that my great-grandmother could have done her laundry on.
He caught me looking and winked at me.
I could feel the blood rushing to my face, and then, to add insult to injury, my stomach rumbled so loudly I half expected it to rock the bed.
“Hungry?” he asked with a smirk.
“I know it seems weird considering what I just ate, but I would kill for some Graeter’s ice cream.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a brand of ice cream from a company in Cincinnati, Ohio. I had a sorority sister from there and she introduced me to it. She would have it delivered for breakups.”
He stood up. “Your wish is my command.”
“I didn’t mean for you to . . .” I said, but he was already halfway out the door.
Then he stopped and his mischievous eyes twinkled at me. “You said it would never happen, but we just slept together.”
“We did not!” I grabbed one of my pillows and threw it at him, but he was already gone.
I took a shower, and it was nice to feel human again. I wondered how much of the previous day the cameras had captured. If they showed the audience that Dante had spent all day with me, it might look like he favored me over the others. Although, given the way editing worked, I could come out looking like a horrible person while Abigail seemed like the lovable heroine.
After I got dressed and dried my hair, I checked in on Genesis and Michelle. Michelle seemed fully recovered and was busy packing for her hometown date with Dante. Genesis, unfortunately, was still throwing up. She looked so miserable. “Every time I drink water, I get sick again.”
“Stop drinking for a while,” I told her. “Just sleep.” She nodded and closed her eyes. I pulled her blanket up to her shoulder and patted her. I wished I could do more.
On my way downstairs I passed by Abigail’s room. It was empty. “Abigail?” I called out. I knocked on her open door. “Hello?” No answer. I didn’t know where she was or how much time I had, but I was ready to play spy again.
Her room was immaculate. Like a maid had been in to clean it. Another thing to dislike about her.
I opened dresser drawers, rummaging through them. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I hoped I’d know it when I saw it. I looked under her bed, under the pillows, and in the nightstand drawers. Nothing.
Turning on the closet light, I rifled through her dresses, checked pockets, and looked inside her shoes. I might not find anything. If she were smart, she would have gotten rid of the evidence.
Fortunately, Abigail was not smart.
I stood up and looked at the closet shelves and saw a bag of potato chips. That woman had never willingly eaten a trans-fat, sodium-infested, greasy carb in her entire life. I grabbed the bag, and saw that it had already been opened. I fished around inside it, and felt a glass bottle.
I pulled it out triumphantly and read the label. Ipecac syrup.
A former sorority sister of mine, Charlotte, had been anorexic and bulimic. After she came back from rehab for her eating disorders, she asked me to come to her room and get rid of her stash of ipecac syrup. She didn’t have much of a gag reflex anymore, so the only way she could throw up was from the syrup. And it helped her to keep her eating and drinking in check, because once you’d ingested it, any other food or water would keep you throwing up.
No wonder Genesis hadn’t gotten over it yet.
I ran back into her room and woke her up. “Genesis, do not eat or drink anything else. You will get better.”
Groggily she said, “Okay.”
“I’ll come back and check on you later. It may take me a while because I have to finish killing Abigail first.”
She was already back to sleep. I took the water bottles near her bed and carried them down to the kitchen in case she didn’t remember our conversation.
I couldn’t believe Abigail had done this. She must have grabbed the ipecac when we went upstairs to change, and had kept it on her all night, pretending to be our friend and making us shakes. She had been waiting and planning, wanting that last-chance date with Prince Dante, and was willing to make us all suffer so she could get it.
What kind of evil, sadistic person would do that?
I might actually inflict bodily harm on that woman. I was madder than a pack mule with a mouthful of bees. The vein in my forehead started throbbing, and my nails bit into my palms. I was shaking from the anger.
Stomping over to the Bat Cave, I threw open the door. “Where is Burdette?” I demanded.
Taylor looked both horrified and stunned. “What are you doing?” she hissed at me.
Before I could answer, Burdette emerged from a back room. “What is it now?”
I held out the bottle of ipecac syrup. “Abigail put this in our milkshakes during our slumber party. It’s why we all got sick and she didn’t. She wanted the last-chance date and got all of us out of her way.”
He looked at the label and then back at me. “Go get Abigail.” Some assistant scurried off to do his bidding.
Within a few minutes she arrived in high heels and the skimpiest bikini I had ever seen, followed by her camera crew. Another crew had snuck in to shoot from different viewpoints. The overhead lights were turned on and the whole room lit up.
When she came into the room, I went after her. Somebody had anticipated that, because I didn’t take even one step before two men were holding me back and keeping me from her. “Of all the horrible, evil, psychotic things to do . . .”
“Shut up!” Burdette barked at me. It surprised me enough to go still. He handed her the bottle. “Abigail, Lemon has accused you of using this to make all the other girls sick so that you could have Dante to yourself.”
She looked totally and utterly confused. “I’ve never seen that before.”
Of course she would lie. I reached for her, but I was kept firmly in place. “I found it in your room!”
She turned to me, all wide-eyed innocence. I had decided early on she couldn’t be much of an actress if the only role she could get was on a soap opera, but she was proving me wrong. “If you found it in my room, then you must have put it there. I don’t even know what that is.”
What proof did I have? There weren’t cameras in the bedrooms.
But there were cameras in the kitchen. “Check the kitchen footage from that night. There has to be evidence of her adding it to the blender.” I knew there had been a reason for her acting so nice that night. It was to lull us into a false sense of security.
“Pull it up,” Burdette said to one of the techs.
“It had to be in the last batch she made us in the early morning.” Charlotte had told me that it took anywhere from fifteen minutes to two hours to start working, depending on the person.
I glared at Abigail triumphantly, sure that her time was now done. “Got it,” the tech said.
He put it up on a main monitor, and we all watched. I saw Genesis, Michelle, and myself in the family room on our makeshift beds, giggling and talking. Abigail got up and went to the kitchen,
and picked up the blender. She moved it from where it had been to a different location. The problem was, her back was to the camera and we couldn’t see what she was doing with her hands.
She had done that deliberately. She knew exactly where the camera was and how to avoid getting caught.
Now she was the one to look triumphant.
I gave her a look I only gave people when there was no gun handy. “Is there a different camera angle? From a different room?”
“Not for where she’s standing, no,” one of the camera guys said.
She had poisoned us, and she was going to get away with it. This registered at a 9.9 on the insane and unfair scale.
“I would never hurt anyone,” she said. There were unshed tears in her eyes, and she pressed a hand delicately to her chest, as if what I said hurt her.
“Oh, whatever,” I shot at her.
She fluttered her eyelids gently. “What did you just say? I couldn’t understand you.”
“Now we’re back to that? I said ‘whatever.’ Disdainfully and scornfully.”
That had done something. I saw the anger on her face. She came and stood right in front of me, poking me in the chest. “The next time you have an accusation, don’t go running to production. Come and say it to my face.”
“Which face? You have more than one.” The two security guys were still holding my arms so that I wouldn’t strangle her, and I briefly considered spitting at her, although that would have forever shamed my mother and grandmother, so I didn’t. I was most mad for what she’d done to Genesis and Michelle. They were so sweet and so nice; they didn’t deserve to be made sick and to suffer the way that they had. I could fight my own battles, and I hated when people picked on those who didn’t or couldn’t stick up for themselves. I didn’t take too kindly to people messing with my friends.
“Since there’s no way of proving what happened, the show will go on,” Burdette announced. I had totally forgotten he was even in the room. He looked at me. “If there is any violence or retribution done by anyone, that person will be kicked off the show and the police will be called.”
It would be worth prison to mar that perfect face of hers. It would not, however, be worth the rest of my career. I knew what he was implying. The threat that he held over my head. He nodded to the two men, knowing that when they let go of me I wouldn’t kill her.
“Now get out and go do what you’re contractually obligated to do.”
When we stepped out of the room and the door was shut behind us, I laughed at Abigail. “That completely backfired on you. He spent all day with me. It must just kill you that he likes me so much better than he will ever like you. He can’t stand you and only keeps you here because Burdette makes him.”
A look of panic crossed her face, and I realized there was something more there than even I’d figured out. A look that hadn’t happened until I mentioned Burdette. It didn’t take much to figure it out.
Two and two did indeed make four.
“You’re sleeping with him,” I said in shock. “That’s why he insists on keeping you here.”
Maybe she wasn’t as good of an actress as I thought. I could see from her expression that I had guessed right. “You daft, lying little minger,” she hissed. “Keep your false accusations to yourself!”
“Bless your heart. I’ve heard worse from better.”
She stormed off then, and it killed me that I couldn’t do anything with the information I had just uncovered. What I wouldn’t give to be able to contact an entertainment reporter to let them know that perfect family man Matthew Burdette was having an affair with a second-rate soap actress.
But there was one thing I could do.
I could tell Dante.
Chapter 18
I used to think the best thing in the world was seeing you smile, then I realized that the best thing in the world is knowing that I caused it.
I told Michelle and Genesis what had happened (leaving out the affair part). Michelle said, “Well, maybe she didn’t do it. I can’t imagine anyone being like that. It seems awfully mean.”
It sure did. Genesis and I exchanged glances, but she was still too weak to do much about it. I was glad at least one of the girls got it. An assistant came to let us know that the schedules had been shifted around, and Dante was going to England with Abigail first. Michelle looked so disappointed that I hugged her.
I had to see Dante. He had been gone for hours, and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to tell him what Abigail had done.
Scabigail had her bags packed and left for the airport. She stopped pretending to like any of us and didn’t say a word when she walked out of the house.
Fortunately, Dante still hadn’t left. He found me in my room. “Another quest done!” He handed me a sealed cardboard box.
I gave him a questioning look and opened the box. “I didn’t give you a quest . . . What? You seriously got me Graeter’s ice cream? How did you get this so fast?”
“Private jet and a spare production assistant.” He grinned.
This must have cost him a ton of money. He was doing it again. Being romantic and sweet and irresistible.
And he looked so pleased with himself that I just had to bring him down a notch. “Then technically you didn’t do it. The PA did.”
He looked so insulted that I almost laughed. “But I paid for it, so it counts.”
“I’m the quest giver, so I get to decide whether or not you get credit for it.”
“Aha! So you admit it was a quest.”
A crew member came to the door and knocked. “Your limo is waiting to take you to the airport for your visit to England.”
“Speaking of evil wenches, I have something to tell you.” I spilled out the whole story, telling him about finding the ipecac syrup in Abigail’s room, confronting her and tattling to the production team, and how absolutely nothing had happened as a result. And that she basically admitted to sleeping with Matthew Burdette before calling me a name.
“What did she say?” His eyes narrowed. I liked when Dante was angry with someone on my behalf.
“I think she called me a ‘daft, lying minger,’ but don’t quote me, because I’m not fluent in psychotic whore.”
He put a hand over mine, making my hand tingle. “Don’t worry. It will all work out in the end.”
How could he not stay angry? His calmness and rational behavior made me feel worse, which could lead to bad things. Because I was still liable to choke a witch out.
“Do you want to call Kat?” He handed me his phone, and I nearly hugged him. It was exactly what I wanted. “I’ll come get it after I finish packing.”
I dialed her number and she picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Dante! How are things going with . . .”
“Lemon?” I finished for her.
“Oh, Lemon, hi!” She sounded frazzled. “No, I was going to say ‘how are things going with the show.’ You know, just life in general.”
I decided not to give her grief. And I could hardly be upset if she and Dante were having conversations about me. I’d certainly had enough conversations with Nico about her.
We talked about her schedule, and how she and Nico were flying back in a few days to Monterra for the visits Dante would have with his family and the three remaining girls. Now I was glad that I was staying to almost the end, because I desperately missed seeing my best friend.
If you ended up with Dante, you could see her all the time, that stupid voice in my head said. I told it to hush up.
“How are things going with you?” she asked.
“Well, let’s see. I’ve probably gained five pounds, there’s only four of us left, and Abigail tried to poison me.”
“What the actual frak?” Kat screamed into the phone. “She tried to poison you? I will hire a car and drive down there and strangle her myself! I’m pretty sure I have diplomatic immunity or something. Even if I didn’t, Nico wouldn’t ever let me go to prison. What’s your address? I need it right now.”
“I’m going to do more than that,” she said, her voice angry. “I bet I could get some of the security detail to take care of her. Lorenz could make it look like an accident.”
“Kat, darlin’.” She needed to come back to reality.
“I know, I know. I’m just angry. I’m not actually homicidal. I’m just frustrated. This feels like Lady Claire all over again. What is it with us and British skanks?” Lady Claire was a noblewoman we met in Paris who had set out to break Nico and Kat apart.
Happily, it hadn’t worked.
“You know, you and Nico never thanked me for pushing you two together and helping you to defeat Lady Claire.”
“Push? You bludgeoned us together.”
That was about as good as it was going to get. “You’re welcome.”
“So how did she try to poison you?” I told her the same story I’d shared with Dante.
She let out a sound of disgust. “We should start building an ark because it is seriously time for a flood. What is wrong with people?”
“Either she really wants Dante for herself, or it’s about the fame.” I couldn’t blame her if she did want Dante. Even if she was literally one of the worst people I had ever met.
“And what about you?” Now she sounded tentative. I’d always had the motherly role in our friendship, and I knew Kat wanted to help me, only she wasn’t sure how to go about it. “Other than the attempt on your life, how are things going? Like with the wedding?”
I lay down in my bed, looking up at the ceiling. “The wedding’s on track. Momma’s taken care of everything. It’s just . . . I’m not sure there’s going to be a wedding.”
She didn’t respond.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“I did. I’m just trying to figure out what to say so that you won’t get mad or stop telling me stuff.”
“I know what you think. I’m just . . . I might be agreeing with you. Although, maybe it’s because of the situation. It’s hard not to imagine yourself falling in love when you’re in a place like this. Where everything is romantic and amazing and exotic. It’s not real life.”