Now, her days here may be numbered.
Idiot! she chastised herself. Stupid, clumsy, useless idiot.
She finally reached her room, which lay in the middle of a mostly deserted corridor – only one other chef resided in this section of the servants’ quarters. She stepped inside the small, functional rooms and let out a long sigh.
She made her way through the small living area to the bedroom. All of these rooms had been renovated and redesigned to give palace staff slightly larger living quarters, and they’d even been retrofitted with a small stove and oven. Charlie’s room could have doubled as a nice one-bedroom apartment if it were located anywhere else. There were other living quarters – larger, and better suited for families – but Charlie didn’t need it, despite the fact they had been available. Charlie didn’t have a family.
She didn’t have anyone.
And soon, she could be out of a job, too.
She made her way to the bathroom, shedding her soiled chef’s jacket and revealing an expensive sports bra underneath. Unlike a regular bra; it kept her skin breathable and her breasts unmoving during long days and nights running around the kitchen.
If she had to take thirty minutes to get her head back in the game, she decided a shower would help. She stripped off her clothes and stepped under the punishing spray of icy cold water. The chill would help her stay strong and alert; she couldn’t afford to be relaxed or soothed just yet.
When she stepped out several minutes later, she felt better. Fiercer. Tougher. More like herself, and less like the whimpering woman that had fallen apart in the kitchen. That woman had not become a head baker at a royal palace.
The one staring back at her, with her face a mask of determination, that was a head baker.
She half-dried her hair and put it back into a ponytail. As she slipped on a fresh chef’s coat, she steeled herself even more. Her coat was her shield, protecting her from the past and the pain.
She wouldn’t be able to bear it if someone took that away. She wouldn’t let anyone take it away.
Just as she was about to head out the door, someone knocked. Was this it? Was this the end?
Charlie made her way across the room and opened the door, wishing there were peepholes in the doors.
Coco stood on the other side, her hands fisted on her wide hips. It took Charlie a moment to notice a full tea service laid out on a cart beside her.
Charlie swallowed. “Coco.”
“Charlie,” she nodded. “Let me in. We’ll have some tea and talk.”
The chill of the shower still ran through her veins. Pushing her shoulders back, she lifted her chin slightly. “If you’re going to fire me, you should just do it now. Let’s not draw it out.”
“Fire you? Why would I do something like that?”
Charlie blinked while her chin dropped. “I’m not fired?”
“No.”
Charlie’s brows furrowed. “But, why not?” she asked before she could think better of it.
Coco let out a snorting laugh. “If you want to get fired, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
Charlie shook her head, unable to believe it. “I’m not fired?”
“No. Now can I come in, or should I stand here while the tea gets cold and you get more confused?”
“Coco.”
“Step aside. Roll in the cart for me, would you?”
Coco stepped inside and Charlie rolled the cart in behind her, positioning it near the seating area. As Coco sat down, she let out a long sigh and gestured to the cart. “Pour us some tea, Charlie, and have a seat.”
Everyone who worked in the kitchen knew how Coco liked her tea: strong black tea mixed to a light caramel color with milk and one sugar. It was almost a test of some kind to get her tea exactly right. The kitchen staff still held wagers whenever she asked someone to bring them some tea; rarely had anyone ever gotten it right.
Charlie was one of the few who had.
Coco took the tea Charlie handed her, took a sip, and nodded her approval. “I’m getting old, Charlie.”
Charlie almost tipped her own teacup at the brisk change of subject. “Oh?”
Coco nodded. “I won’t be in charge of this kitchen forever, and I need to find someone else who can run it.”
Someone new wouldn’t put up with what happened earlier, especially not to a member of the royal family. “I understand.”
“I don’t think you do.” Coco took another sip of the hot, sweet brew. “I want you for the job.”
Charlie, who had been in mid-sip herself, spluttered, sending drops of tea dribbling down her chin. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Charlie tried to grasp that, even while she dabbed the mess of her second accident of the day off her face and strained to keep it away from her pristine white chef’s coat. “But, but.”
“But what?”
“But, I can’t even carry a cake much less run a royal kitchen. I did just shove a cake into the Prince’s face.”
Coco put down her teacup and laughed, deep and rich. “Oh, don’t I know it. Never have seen such a sight.”
A blush warmed Charlie’s cheeks. “But that’s just it. No one will take me seriously now. I need to find a new position, somewhere else,” she ended in a low voice, almost to herself. Though she loathed the thought of leaving, she could not stand losing the respect of the people she worked with.
“I wouldn’t worry so much. The staff will talk, of course. It’s too good a story not to be told. They know, however, that we protect our own in this kitchen. We’re a family, and you became a part of that family, too, when you came here.”
Family. She barely knew what a family was. Besides Coco, there had only ever been one woman to show any kind of motherly affection for her, and that woman had not been her own mother. “I don’t know, Coco.”
Coco placed a warm hand on top of hers. You could tell from Coco’s hands that she had worked with them her whole life. Chopping, crushing, kneading, cooking, even cleaning – whatever needed to be done in the kitchen, she had done it. They were soft and slightly wrinkled with age, her fingers thick from years of manual labor and the mild form of diabetes she had. A grandmother’s hands, some might say.
Comforting hands.
“What if the royal family doesn’t approve? I did just, well, harm, their son.”
“I know them, and they’re fair people. They’ll overlook one accident, especially since the Prince wasn’t all that upset about it, but they won’t overlook a second.” Charlie nodded.
“All of the royals listen to me,” Coco continued. “They listen when I talk. All of those kids – even the heir to the throne, Prince Alexander – grew up under my own watch. They snuck in here asking for treats at all hours of the day and night. They still do – why else do you think Prince Nathaniel was down here?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
Coco picked up her tea again and sipped while she talked. “Think of it. I’m important to them, and they’re important to me. Now, with Prince Alexander getting ready to marry his lovely lady, and even Princess Arianna expecting a child with her beau in Brazenbourg, we’ll soon have a new generation of royals tugging at our legs for a treat.” Coco shook her head. “Much as I love them, I’ve been charmed by one generation of royals, and that is more than enough for me.”
Charlie could just imagine Prince Nathaniel as a young boy, running around with his brothers, years before the weight of privilege and responsibility fell on their shoulders. She could easily see them charming Coco out of a treat here and there.
Coco finished her tea and set the cup down. “You’re a good woman, Charlie. I’d like to train you to take over for me, if you’re up for it. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and I think you’re the one.”
“But I’m not even Vallerian. I was born in America.”
“We can have your work visa altered, and you can work your way to citizenship. I think it’s time for you to make Valleria
your permanent home.”
Home. Another word she had trouble digesting. “Could I think about it?” Charlie knew that if the royal family didn’t want her because of what happened earlier, no amount of talking from Coco would help her case. She had to know she was safe before she committed to anything.
“All right. Let’s make it through the upcoming state dinner in a few days, and you can tell me after that.” Coco stood up, though it took a few tries and Charlie’s help for her to do so. “Oh, these old bones just aren’t what they used to be.”
A frown marred Charlie’s eyebrows. Was there something else besides old age prompting Coco to retire? “Are you feeling all right, Coco?”
She waved away Charlie’s question. “Just the same as yesterday, and the day before that.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the closest thing to one you’ll get.” Coco gave Charlie’s arm a squeeze before she headed for the door. “Bring the tea tray back with you when you come.”
“I will. Coco?”
“Yes, Charlie?”
“Why me?”
Coco paused in the door, giving Charlie a look over. She wondered what she saw in her. “Because, Charlie, you’re one of the few who gets my tea just right.”
Charlie’s eyes widened. “Your tea?” Of all the answers she was expecting, it wasn’t that.
“Oh, yes. You were so determined to get it right, and you kept trying until you did. The others, they may try, but they don’t have your determination, Charlie Wyler. That’s how I know you’ll be the best for the job. You’ll never give up. Even just now, one cake was destroyed and your first thought was to make another. No, you’ll never give up.” Coco left a moment later, shutting the door behind her.
Sinking back into a chair, Charlie’s head whirled. She had gone from thinking she was fired to potentially being promoted into her dream job in a space of an hour. Shaking her head, Charlie stood up and prepared to go back to work. She had to redeem herself, and she didn’t have much time.
Chapter 2
Nate should have gone back to his royal apartment in the castle to change. Instead, he had lingered in the kitchen, smudges of creamy filling and cake now ingrained into his suit. He had removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, then washed what he could from his face and hair. He would need to take a shower before meeting with his father and Alex. The grimness of the task that lay before him sat heavy once more.
“Your Highness, what are you doing here?”
Nate turned at the voice, his face still dripping. He grabbed a hand towel nearby and wiped the wet away. He saw Charlotte’s eyes flit to the tattoos on his exposed forearms before focusing on his eyes again. He quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said and dipped into a curtsy, mistaking the look on his face. “I didn’t mean to be disrespectful or to, well–”
“Shove a cake in my face?” he finished for her, and a very becoming shade of pink tinged her cheeks.
“Yes, I’m very sorry. Were you waiting for me?”
“I was waiting for you.” The answer was as much of a surprise to him as it was to Charlotte, who had momentarily stopped twisting her hands around the hem of her white chef’s jacket. He had to admit that the loose-fitting white was not flattering on her, but she still looked damn sexy.
“Are you here to fire me?”
“If I was?” He didn’t like the look of wariness or defeat in her eyes, an expression he had rarely seen on her. Still, he had to remind himself he was a prince, and his father would not be happy with him if he knew Nate was attracted to one of the palace staff. Nate stepped closer, and was pleased when she held her ground. “If I was going to fire you, what would you do?”
“I’d ask if I could make the replacement cake first.”
Nate smiled, which turned into a full laugh. “That’s just the sort of answer I expected from you, Charlotte.”
“Charlie. My name is Charlie.”
“It’s Charlotte,” he said in a low voice as he stalked closer. He saw her breath catch and her small, plump lips part slightly. Was she reacting to a prince or to him? He wish he knew.
“I, um, prefer Charlie, Your Highness.”
“And I prefer Nate. Doesn’t mean people call me that.” He was barely a foot away from her. He could smell the soft floral scent of her shampoo, the clean scent of her recent shower and damp hair. Her eyes drifted to his hair, which he knew must look a mess; he hadn’t been able to get all the cake out of it during his brief wash.
“Are you here to fire me?” she blurted out.
Despite the fact that he shouldn’t, that it would reveal too much of himself, he lifted his hand to Charlotte’s cheek. He brushed his knuckles over her soft, sweet-smelling skin. She gasped, and he felt a quick waft of air against his fingers. “No, Charlotte.” His voice was low and even, his light brown eyes staring into her bold blue. “No, I would never fire you.”
She swallowed, and his eyes drifted to the line of her throat as she did. His hand fell away, and he suddenly felt cold.
“Thank you.” She sighed in relief and he saw her shoulders relax. Was she thanking him for keeping her employed or stepping back from her? Again, he wish he knew.
Nate stepped away, giving them some distance. He used the movement to put the towel he’d used into a basket set aside for soiled linens. “Are you really going to bake another cake?”
“Yes, I am.” As she made her way into the kitchen, she paused. “Perhaps it would be best if you maintained some distance, Your Highness.”
Distance from her or the cake? “On the contrary, I think it’s best if I stay right here. If you can see me at all times, it minimizes the chances of you accidentally running into me again.”
“Of course,” she said and continued towards the pantry. Nate gently touched her arm as she passed. He ignored the sizzle of heat that passed between them to focus on her.
“I’m not upset with you, Charlotte.”
“Aren’t you? You’d be entitled to.”
Entitled. A word a prince could come to loathe; Nate certainly had. “The things I’m entitled to, Charlotte, have nothing to do with you. Though I can’t say I’d want a cake shoved in my face again, I found the whole situation amusing more than anything.”
“Amusing?”
Why did she sound so put out? “Yes. I’ve never had a woman shove a whole cake in my face.” He counted on his fingers as he spoke. “I’ve had drinks thrown in my face, a vase thrown past my face, I’ve been pushed into pools, and I’ve been thrown off my horse a time or two, but no cake. So, I’m going to chalk it up to a new experience and leave it at that.”
Nate could tell Charlotte was trying to hold back a smile. “I see.”
“What are you still doing here?” Coco asked as she entered the small kitchen.
A broad smile lit Nate’s face; he loved Coco. She was one of the few that, besides the security agents that followed him everywhere, was not required to curtsy in the presence of a royal. She was like family to him and his siblings, and he knew his parents thought very highly of her, too.
“Coco, my dear.”
“Don’t you ‘Coco’ me, Your Highness. Charlie has work to do and you’re distracting her.”
Nate walked over and put his firm, muscular arm around Coco’s broad, soft shoulders. “Does that mean I can’t get a snack and maybe some coffee while I’m down here?”
Coco crossed her arms over her well-endowed chest. “Dinner is in less than two hours.”
Nate didn’t miss the pointed look Coco sent Charlotte, which caused the latter to make her way quickly to the pantry. “Don’t pick on her, Coco,” Nate whispered.
“I was going to say the same to you.”
“Now, Coco, I wasn’t going to try anything.”
“By the look on your face, I’d say you’re close to trying something if you haven’t already.”
Damn. How did Coco read him so well? She was just as quick as his
mother when it came to things like this. “It’s not like that.”
“I sure hope it isn’t. Charlie’s a good girl and a decent person. She deserves the best.”
The barb struck Nate square in the chest. “I take it I don’t fall into that category?”
Coco sighed. She relaxed her arms and drew one around Nate’s waist. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know,” he said, and dropped a kiss to the woman’s head.
Charlotte & Nate (Royals of Valleria #4) Page 2
