by Ella Brooke
“We don’t have to talk to them,” Lorenzo said. He gave the clerk a stern look as the two of them bypassed the front desk and headed for the elevators. “They know who I am.”
“Guarding me from both bodily harm and snotty employees. Good to know.”
“I’ve also been known to shield women from rain and slap fights.”
“How about fistfights?” Vanessa asked as they entered the elevator. She’d never talked to him much before, but his wry sense of humor was dissipating her nerves. “In case I run into Arlon again?”
“I’m sure that means you’ll be punching him instead of him punching you. I assume this because I doubt he’d make it through the first hit.”
“Isn’t your primary objective to protect the royals?”
Lorenzo snorted. “No. It’s to protect Prince James. Also, you, at his request.”
When they arrived, Vanessa looked up at Lorenzo anxiously.
“Go on, Cinderella. Your fairy godmother is waiting.”
Vanessa made a choked laugh. “What?”
“James has some clothes for you to try on. It’s why he made you come so early. He wanted you to pick your dress.”
Vanessa lifted her brows and looked down at her dress. It was the best she had; the others being simple sundresses. She’d worried that the color would be too drab for something like this. Apparently James had planned ahead.
She opened the door and stepped into the suite. It was what she had expected, but it still left her a bit speechless. For her, a hotel room was a simple affair, not a two-story apartment. She’d only had a moment to take it in when James appeared, half-dressed in his sharp pants and unbuttoned dress shirt.
“Come in,” he urged.
Vanessa walked up to him, and he gave her a kiss. “Lorenzo tells me you’ve found appropriate evening wear for me.”
James raised his brow. “I had a shopper pick out a few dresses. Yours is fine… I just didn’t want you to feel out of place when we get there.”
Almost immediately, his eyes went to the silver glint of metal on her wrist, and he lifted her hand to look at it. The corners of his eyes creased as he recognized it.
“You kept it,” he said almost breathlessly.
“Um, yeah.” She held her hand to her chest and touched the bracelet lightly.
James nodded, smiling slightly, and led her upstairs to the bedroom. There was a rack of about five dresses in different colors. One was burgundy with a tightly fitted bodice. Another was a midnight blue with glints of something silvery in the fabric and sheer sleeves. They were all gorgeous and probably too expensive.
“Jamie, I can’t,” she objected.
“It’s really nothing. Just try them on. The spares will be returned.” James hugged her from behind. “You’ll look lovely in each and every one of them.”
He wasn’t lying, either. After he’d gone downstairs to make some coffee, she put on each dress, turning this way and that, looking at herself in the mirror. They were all absolutely beautiful, but none she would ever find herself wearing in a million years. These were James Dresses; dresses she’d probably only ever wear for a night out with him. But there was something magical about seeing herself like this. She’d pulled her black hair up into a French twist, and actually put on makeup. With the dresses on, she actually looked like someone who might, maybe, be dating a prince.
It was hard to wrap her mind around. She realized that, even after all this time, she just thought of him as Jamie.
Vanessa came down the stairs slowly, uncertain of her choice, even after looking over the dresses carefully time and again. In the end, she’d chosen the least sensible and the most fairytale of all the dresses. There was delicate beading in black, silver, and beige running in a V-shape toward her waist. It inverted there, spreading back out toward her hips and accentuating her curves, then tapered off as the fabric became a soft, flowing cream organza. She felt like she was floating, but her heart was pounding as she stepped into the kitchen.
“What do you think?”
James put down his coffee, and his eyes grew wide. “Oh… That was my favorite, too.”
He came to her and moved his hands carefully over her sides, then up her back. With his hand resting on the back of her neck, she warned, “Don’t you mess up my hair. Do you know how long it takes me to wrangle it into something this good?”
“I would never,” he swore, and then he kissed her.
On the way to the concert, James grew more talkative, asking whether Vanessa would be open to Jonah learning a bit more about Rusteria and its culture, especially since most schools would probably not cover anything, except maybe as a point in a high school geography class.
“I don’t see why not. He’s a sponge right now. He soaks everything up you can throw at him.” Vanessa paused. “What’s the national language there? Jonah’s not learning any language formally, but I’ve been teaching him a little Spanish. Would it be Italian?”
“It isn’t officially our language, but most citizens speak that or German.” James seemed pleased by this turn in the conversation. He seemed so hopeful for some reason. Like there was something else he wanted to say, but was holding back.
“Well, I don’t know anything about German, but I could probably teach him Italian while teaching myself.”
“Would you ever want to visit? Rusteria, and Italy, with me?” James ventured, taking her hand.
“God, Jamie, I’d like to. I’m just not sure I could afford to. It’d be so tough keeping our shop open if I was away.”
“You couldn’t find a replacement for a short time? Someone who could follow your recipes?”
“Maybe.” Vanessa hesitated to tell him no, because he so clearly wanted a yes. “I’d love to travel more. I really would. There’s so much you can learn by just visiting other places, but it’s never been part of my life. I don’t think anyone in my family ever took a vacation.”
“We need to work on that,” James said. “Really, it’s not healthy not to rest.”
“Not everyone has that luxury.”
“But you could. Because I clearly can provide it. If you let me.”
Vanessa frowned, and he clicked his tongue.
“Don’t let me ruin your evening with wild dreams of taking a week or two off.” Then, he said more softly, “You work too hard, Van. I love you. I don’t want to see you tired and burned out. I know you enjoy your job, but there’s an element to it that isn’t ideal.”
“I know that. And I want to tell you yes.”
“We’ll just have to see what we can do to make it so you can say yes.”
When they reached Kaufman Hall, Vanessa was almost surprised by how simple it looked. However, from the attire on the attendees filing in, she could tell that James had been right to give her something else to wear. These people must’ve been wearing thousands of dollars on their back. She didn’t have much time to think on it, though. Lorenzo moved them to the front of the line, and the usher at the door just gave them a nod and let them through. No ticket, no question.
James got her a glass of champagne in the lobby, and Vanessa sipped it, feeling a bit of nostalgia for their old days. They’d been to wilder venues, but the types of people were the same, and James had always seemed to have an automatic “in” wherever he went.
“Do you remember that underground club we went to?” Vanessa said.
“Oh, barely.” James shook his head. “Absinthe.”
She laughed as they watched the others filter into the lobby. James allowed people to come up to them to say hello, and introduced her, but he did not mill about the room as she’d expected he would. He was fixed, and if people wanted his attention, they made the effort. It was an interesting sight. He was a prince, after all.
Before the doors opened officially, an usher approached them to take them to the front row where their seats were reserved. Lorenzo gave James a slight bow and stepped back to the side of the stage to keep an eye out.
“This
is really something,” Vanessa said. “I don’t think I ever fully appreciated your position before.”
“I brought you because I thought you’d have a good time, not because I wanted to show off my rank,” James objected.
“You should show it off a little. Lets a girl know how things are.”
James draped his hand around her shoulder and kissed her cheek lightly. “There may be some pictures of you floating around after tonight.”
“There weren’t before?”
“There were some. But my bringing you here is a clear message that you and I are more than old friends.”
“Is this a warning about more Arlon?”
“No. He hasn’t responded, and I haven’t gotten in contact with my brother yet, but I don’t think he’ll make another move, knowing that I’m going to talk to the king.”
“Good.”
Vanessa rested her head on James’s shoulder. Shutting out the rest of their worries, she listened to the buzzing of conversation around them as the other attendees filtered in and took their seats. Then, the lights dimmed and a girl and a boy, both about twelve, walked onto the stage. The girl carried a cello almost bigger than she was, and the boy, a violin.
When they began to play, Vanessa sat up, surprised at how adeptly the music suddenly sprang to life in their small hands. Classical, definitely, one of those long-dead European composers Vanessa couldn’t always tell apart. She couldn’t have imagined doing something like this at their age, though she’d known what she wanted to do with her life. They could launch their career so early, or change it a dozen times, but this start they were being given was priceless. After the first piece, the duet rose and bowed before sitting to play their second piece. They did one more Classical piece before the girl, Annamarisa, winked at the audience and they launched into a Jason Mraz song, causing a wave of soft laughter.
Vanessa looked up at James, who was watching them proudly. She could see the boy, Emil, looking right at the front row whenever he looked up. The children had expected James to be here for them, and he was, right there, waiting for them in quiet support. She could have that support too, if she could be brave enough to admit she wanted it.
Chapter Ten
James
After taking Vanessa backstage to meet the twins, James had planned on taking her to a nice dinner. However, her day at work had been long, followed by a quick turnaround to get ready for the concert, and she’d had no time to rest. So he called the restaurant to cancel (it had been staying open for them anyway), and had Lorenzo stop at a Sonic to pick up some food. That the workers there didn’t blink at two people dressed for a concert walking up to their counter was a testament to the nature of this city, and it made James smile. He had always kind of liked New York. He could see why Vanessa loved it.
Vanessa was undisciplined and kept sneaking tater tots from the bag. Whenever he caught her, though, she’d just kiss him, so he had to forgive her. They waited until they returned to his hotel suite to properly break open the bag, and James got out plates for them to eat.
“I love how you appreciate fast food,” Vanessa said, pouring them glasses of wine.
“I love that you’ll drink wine with anything.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think tots hold up very well to a bold red.”
To his extreme annoyance, James’s phone chimed. He considered ignoring it. It was 11:45 p.m. after all, and anyone who was contacting him could probably wait. He slipped his phone out to look, and of course, it was Marcus. Finally.
It had been six days since his message to Marcus. Moreover, it extremely early in the day over there. On a Sunday, no less. If he waited to call Marcus back, he’d either be caught up in Catholic Mass or sleeping.
“It’s my brother. I really need to take this.”
“No problem.” Vanessa took a sip of her cherry limeade. “I think I’ll just change while you’re in there.”
James squeezed her hand and went into his study to set up the call. Surprisingly, he got Marcus right away instead of his secretary.
“Ah, good. I was hoping it wouldn’t be too late for you,” Marcus said. He was buttoning up his shirt as he sat down.
“Not after waiting nearly a week for a response. I just got in, actually,” James said a bit sharply.
“I’ve been busy this week. I’m sorry that this is the case, but it is what it is.” Marcus sighed. “I don’t know what is going on with you and Arlon specifically, but I sent him orders to come home. I can’t promise he hasn’t cooked up anything else to bother you, but he’ll be here and not there, for certain.”
“I appreciate that.”
“However, you have to understand that he and Mother aren’t entirely wrong.” Marcus held up a hand to prevent arguing. “I know that he had no right to speak to, Vanessa, is it? But your dating an American woman is questionable at this point in time.”
“I’ve told you that she’s not just some woman. Vanessa and I are quite seriously making a go of things.”
“I’m told she has a child,” Marcus said quietly.
“Yes. She has a five-year-old boy,” James said, emphasizing the “five” pointedly.
Marcus’s brows shot up. It was gratifying to see his brother, for once, uncomposed and unsure of how to react. He disappeared from the screen for a moment and returned looking at some papers in his hands… No. Not papers. Pictures.
“Are those pictures of Vanessa and Jonah?” James demanded.
“His name is Jonah?” Marcus said softly. “God, how did I not realize? He looks just like you. And a bit like Dad, too.”
That would suffice. He didn’t need to share any of his uncertainty with Marcus.
“The resemblance clinches it, doesn’t it? What did Arlon tell you?”
Marcus pried his eyes away from the pictures. “He said that you were dating a single mother. A woman who had dated a few rough characters in the past, with no real family to speak of…”
“Because her father left, and her mother died. That’s no fault of hers. Did he tell you that she’s a shrewd businesswoman who runs a bakery, successfully, and lives off her earnings? Or that she is tremendously generous, and probably wiser than I am when it comes to weighing risks?”
“Of course not,” Marcus scoffed. “Arlon is how he is. I’m just glad he thinks he’s on our side. I’d much rather keep than lose family at any point. Look, I know how this is going to come off, but it cannot be helped. I give you leave to have a romantic relationship with Vanessa—”
“Oh, by your leave, Your Majesty!”
“If you think you’ll get better than that, you’re mistaken.” Marcus ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. His wife was going to be annoyed. They were probably on their way to church. “You should call Mother, but I’ll have a word with her after mass first. She won’t like it, but she didn’t like Bianca much at first, either, and she’s just from one country over with a Rusterian grandparent.”
“Arlon is trying to cause trouble, and you mustn’t believe him. He tried to send me pictures of Vanessa with someone else to make me think Jonah wasn’t mine,” James said, his cheeks flaming both from anger and from the stress of hiding the full truth from his brother.
“Good God. I will talk to him again as well.”
“I appreciate this, Marcus. It isn’t easy working on our relationship with this time constraint as it is, let alone with family trying to get in the way.”
“We won’t anymore, but—” Marcus sighed. “I do need you back. Now that the concert is over and your work is done, the Senate is going to be in session soon, and I’m going to need your vote.”
James clenched his jaw and began loosening his tie. He didn’t want to say anything he might regret right now.
“I’m sorry, James,” Marcus said. And he really did sound sorry. “But there are certain tax initiatives coming up, questions on border regulations, and all of those things. We’re going to need every vote.”
“
Marc, I can’t just leave her. Not like this. Not so soon.”
“I’ll see that you can come back in a few months if you do this. It’s the best I can do. You describe her as such a sensible woman. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
James looked down at his knees and squeezed them. “She’ll understand, but she’ll still be hurt. I messed it up last time. I didn’t contact her for so long… I’m just getting her trust back, and Jonah… I don’t want to miss his life.”
“That I relate to. I spend so much time at work. I hate not to be there with my children. But sometimes, that’s how it is. We have responsibilities.”
Thinking back to everything Vanessa had said over the past few weeks, James nodded. Responsibilities. He had them to his country, and to the woman he loved, and to Jonah.
“As soon as possible, Marcus. I need to come back the moment you no longer need me there.”
“I’ll do what I can. You know how the Senate can argue.”
“I do.”
James negotiated for a few more minutes, getting as many days with Vanessa as he could, before ending the call and heading back out. He froze, mid-step, when he saw Vanessa standing there, wearing one of his shirts, with an arm crossed over herself as she chewed on a thumbnail.
“So you’re leaving.”
“You heard.”
“Yeah. I…” Vanessa looked down.
“This is the reality of my life. I don’t want to go—”
“No, I’ve told you, if you have to…” She grabbed her hair with both hands and clenched. “Fuck!”
“I know.” James came to her side and drew her into his arms. “I have another week. We can explain to Jonah. I’ll be gone, and then I’ll be back.”
Vanessa said nothing. She pressed her head into James’s chest, breathing shakily.
