by M. S. Parker
I frowned. I'd spent the last couple months considering and wasn't any closer to an answer than I had been when I'd left Philadelphia.
My phone rang and I sighed, rolling over to grab it.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Reed.”
“Mom?” I blinked at the clock. She had to be up early to be calling me here. Then I registered the time. Almost noon. Which meant it was nearly seven o'clock back home.
“Are you just waking up?”
I flopped back on my pillows and closed my eyes. I was an adult, thousands of miles away, and she could still sound like I was some lazy kid sleeping in late.
“Yes, Mom, I am.” There wasn't much point in lying to her.
“Your father's on the line too,” she said.
Fuck. My parents had to be two of the few people who still had landlines and liked to use them for conference calls. I had a feeling if they'd been in charge of the technical advancements, our companies would still be using computers that took up a whole room.
“Morning, Dad,” I said. I silently wondered what the hotel would think if I threw my cell phone off the balcony and into the pool below.
“We need you to come home, Reed.” At least Dad didn't try to make small talk. “You know I can't run the businesses by myself, not with my health.”
Dad had been playing the health card since he'd been rushed to the ER three years ago with chest pains. The doctors had said it was a panic attack, but he'd refused to believe them, instead insisting that he'd had a heart attack and the hospital was conspiring against him. Conspiring with who and why, he never said. Only that there were people who wanted to make sure he was ruined. I was just grateful he kept his theories to himself. The last thing we needed was our stockholders thinking the old man was nuts.
“You have Rebecca to help you,” I reminded him.
My little sister was in her early twenties and had been after my dad for the past couple years to let her run one of the companies. He'd always refused and I knew she thought it was because she was a girl. While that was part of it, I happened to know that my father also believed that Rebecca didn't have the temperament to be a good CEO. I didn't disagree.
“Rebecca doesn't know what she's doing,” he said bluntly.
“Your father and I tried to get her to see that,” Mom cut in. “We even had things worked out with the Westmores to have Rebecca marry Blayne.”
“Isn't he the screw-up?” I asked. From what I remembered, he was a couple years older than me, but was still acting like he was in high school. Maybe college if he was in a frat.
“His father had been eager to get his son married and settled. We thought he and Rebecca would be a perfect match.”
Apparently, my parents hadn't learned from my disaster of a marriage that, in this day and age, in our culture, arranged marriages didn't work. Telling them that wouldn't do any good though so I kept my mouth shut and waited for them finish with their little pitch.
“Then he went out and married some immigrant or something.”
I could almost see the condescending sneer on my mother's face. It was on the tip of my tongue to remind her that, while her family could trace its lineage back to the Mayflower, she was still descended from immigrants.
“Anyway.” My father picked things back up. “After that incident, your sister decided she no longer wanted to listen to reason and was going to do things her own way.”
I suppressed a laugh. I wasn't sure why that surprised them. Rebecca and I might've both been tall and had the same blond hair – hers dyed lighter while mine remained more golden – but that was where the similarities ended, physical and in personality. Her eyes were hazel while mine were a brown so dark they were almost black. I'd always toed the line while she hadn't cared what anyone said about her. The biggest difference was that I tried to be nice to people while Rebecca's idea of nice was a backhanded compliment and laughing behind someone's back.
“You worked so hard for that company, I can't understand how you can let her run it into the ground.”
I sat up, my temper flaring at the attempt to manipulate me. “You guys used the company once to get me to marry Britni. I'm not letting you use it again. If Rebecca screws up, it's your own fault.”
“You're the one who left, Reed.” My father's voice was sharp. “You abandoned your family, neglected your responsibilities–”
“I'm going to stop you right there, Dad,” I interrupted smoothly. “I've always done what you expected of me. I went to Columbia and got an MBA because that's what you wanted. I went to work for the family business right after I graduated because that's what I was supposed to do. I married Britni. I almost had a kid with her.”
“But you fucked that up, didn't you?”
“Lawrence!” My mom sounded shocked and I had to admit that I was a little surprised. My father rarely talked like that.
“I made a choice,” I said quietly. “I chose me. I've had enough of doing everything I've been told to do. I'm not a child.”
“Then you should stop behaving like one,” Mom snapped.
“Figuring out what I want to do with my life is being a child?” I asked. “It's not like you support me. I have my inheritance, but I've also earned every penny of it as well as the salary I've received these past five years. I've never asked you for a dime. I'm an adult, and I deserve the opportunity to figure out what I want out of life.”
“And what is that?” Dad asked. “Sleeping your way through half of Europe?”
“Nice to know you have people keeping tabs on me,” I said. It didn't surprise me. I had a feeling the hotels where I'd stayed had been reporting my activities to my parents.
“Come home and take charge of the company again while you decide what you want to do,” Mom suggested.
It was tempting, I thought. It was a solid job. I liked the people I worked with. But I knew if I went back, I'd never leave again. Breaking free the first time had been hard. Leaving a second time would be virtually impossible. I had to stay away.
“I don't think that's a good idea,” I said. “I need to be away while I figure this out.”
“This discussion isn't over,” Dad said.
It was for me, but I didn't say that. They'd figure it out when nothing they said worked.
“I'll talk to you guys later then,” I said.
“We love you, Reed,” Mom said.
“Love you too.” And it was true. I did love them. I just didn't want to be like them.
I ended the call and headed for the bathroom. First on the order of business for today was breakfast. After that, I planned to check out a few places I hadn't seen yet. I did appreciate good art and Paris was the perfect place to enjoy that. I was thinking two more weeks and then I'd be ready to move on again. I didn't want to overstay my welcome. I hadn't yet decided where I wanted to go, but wherever it was, it sure as hell wouldn't be Philadelphia. Not anytime soon.
Chapter 3
Nami
Paris, France.
I'd never been allowed to come here alone before. I threw a glance over my shoulder and scowled. I supposed I wasn't truly alone now either, but at least the two hulking masses behind me weren't my overprotective parents. When my parents had told me I would be allowed to take a trip across Europe after my college graduation, I'd been thrilled, sure that I had finally earned my freedom. After all, I had spent twenty-two years being the dutiful daughter. I did as I was told, everything from what classes to take, to who my roommate was allowed to be. I had been a good girl and stayed in my room studying while others went to parties, flirted and drank. I had disobeyed only once and my parents didn't know about the night I'd snuck out to see my friend, Aaron.
I sighed as I thought of him. Aaron Jacobs. He'd been a friend since freshman year. Sweet, kind. The kind of man a normal girl would've been thrilled to take home to her parents. I hadn't allowed myself to become attached because I'd known that it would never work between the two of us. I'd been honest with
him upfront, and he, in turn, had been honest with me. We'd become close friends, and my parents had been nervous until I introduced them to Aaron's boyfriend.
Well, I supposed there was that one little thing that would've given some parents pause. Aaron was bisexual. I hadn't told my parents that though. Not because they would have freaked out about him being attracted to men, but because being bisexual would've meant he could've still wanted me. No, I'd simply made sure he had his current boyfriend present the first time I introduced him to my parents and they'd never worried about him after that.
I smiled to myself. They should have. I'd made it clear to Aaron from moment one that we couldn't have a relationship, but as graduation had approached four years later, I'd asked him for a favor. He'd been single at the time and I'd been adamant that I wasn't going to go home a virgin. My bodyguards had gotten a bit lax those last couple weeks, prompted, I supposed, by the previous four years of good behavior. Whatever the reason, I'd been able to get to Aaron's dorm, do the deed, and get back before my guards realized I was gone.
I didn't regret it, especially now. I scowled at my reflection, hating the face that looked back at me. I had my father's chin and nose, my mother's cyan eyes and figure. The dark brown curls and tanned skin were the result of combining my mom's fair coloring with my father's darker coloring. I'd been told more than once that, had I not been barely five feet tall and on the curvy side, I could've been a model. The exotic look was all the rage.
I almost wished I had been tall enough. I could only imagine the look on my father's face if I had told him I planned to be a model. My parents weren't completely old-fashioned, but there were certain areas where tradition still held a high bar, and my sex life was one of those areas.
I'd said that Aaron would've been the kind of boy a normal girl could've taken home to her family. The problem was that I wasn't a normal girl. I was Princess Nami Carr, eldest child of King Raj and Queen Mara. My family had ruled the tiny island nation of Saja for thousands of years. No one had really ever heard of Saja. We pretty much kept to ourselves, didn't bother with world politics or anything like that. We didn't crave the spotlight or had any important natural resources to exploit. We had nice beaches and pretty waterfalls, but we didn't sell ourselves as a tourist trap. We were fairly self-sufficient and liked it that way.
I loved my home, and my family. I just didn't love being a princess. I knew there were millions of girls who'd kill to be in my shoes, but they didn't get it. I wasn't just another princess. I was the crown princess, which meant I was destined to rule one day. And that meant there were certain things I didn't get to do.
Like choose a career.
Fall in love.
Choose whom I would marry.
Which is what brought me back to my current situation. My parents' graduation gift had actually been more of a bribe, or at least a way to put me in a better mood for when they dropped that particular bombshell on me.
Once I returned from Europe, I would be marrying a man they had already chosen. There would be an official engagement announcement, of course, and some sort of party for us, but the betrothal was set and the wedding would follow shortly. Most likely within a couple months of my arrival. Everything but the dresses, color scheme and flowers will have already been planned by the time I arrived home. As the princess, those were the only things I had a say in. My attendants would be picked for me, members of other noble families who my parents needed to keep happy. The only one I could count on would be my maid of honor, my sixteen year-old sister, Halea.
The guest list would be carefully selected and pruned until every seat was filled and no one important was offended. The location would be the palace, naturally. Saja was a nation of myriad religions and my parents wouldn't want to insult any of them by seeming to favor a specific location or have one religion oversee the officiating. That would be my father's job. As king, he would conduct the ceremony to ensure that no one religion was shown preferential treatment.
The finest dressmakers in Saja would be on call when I returned to do any necessary alterations to whichever dress I picked. That selection would come from a small number of appropriate dresses chosen by my mother. The same would go for my bridesmaid's dresses and the flowers.
As for my future husband, I knew nothing about him. My parents had said only that he would be handsome and from a good family. That was what mattered to them. To his family, I knew what they would care about. Saja's ruling line was very clear. Eldest child to eldest child, regardless of gender. Ironically, I would one day govern the entire island, but until my father passed, I had no say in my own life. While my husband would be king in name, I would be the ruler. But, once I had his child, his family's bloodlines would be forever linked to the throne. That was why my virginity was so important. The family would want assurances that it was their son's child I bore and no one else's. His virginity and fidelity didn't matter to them. Even as king, no bastard of his would have a right to the throne. He could have as many of those as he wanted.
Maintaining my purity was the main reason Thug One and Thug Two – otherwise known as Tomas and Kai – had been assigned to me the moment I'd left Saja. On the island, everyone knew who I was and no one would dare put themselves in a situation where anything improper could even be insinuated. A lot of girls assumed that being a princess meant always having dates to events like dances and proms. Not for me. What guy was brave enough to approach a girl flanked by security and ask her to go out with him? The answer was none.
I'd graduated from Princeton with a degree in political science – my parents' choice – and a minor in classical literature – my choice – but had nothing else to show for my four years in America. No friends aside from Aaron, and I knew I'd never see him again. No adventures or whirlwind romances. I couldn't even claim to have had four years where I didn't have to think about my responsibilities. I'd hoped this trip would be that opportunity for me, even if just for a couple weeks. Instead, it was just another reminder of what was expected of me.
“Princess, are you ready?” Kai spoke from his position at the door. His accent was rougher than mine, denoting the part of Saja he was from. “Your dinner reservations are in thirty minutes.”
Of course they were. I had a schedule to keep. Appearances to make. My parents had managed to turn my graduation present into a royal event as well. I was expected to be seen in all the right places. I'd gone straight to London after graduation and stayed there for three days. Now, it was a few days in Paris and then on to Italy where I'd have a couple days before going home. Today was my last day in Paris and I'd been to several museums, five-star restaurants and taken in some of the sights. And I'd been bored out of my mind. I supposed I wouldn't have minded as much if I'd had someone to enjoy things with, but my bodyguards were strictly professional. They spoke only when spoken to; offered no opinions save ones that had been given to them by the king. And, most importantly, made sure I behaved.
I turned away from the mirror. “No, Kai. I'm actually not feeling well. I think I'll spend the rest of the night in bed.”
“Do you need for us to call a doctor?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I'll be fine.” I walked back into my bedroom and closed the door. I looked in the full-length mirror. I'd dressed the way I was expected to dress for a dinner out. My parents may have made a big deal about my virginity and modesty in dress, but they both understood fashion. The pantsuit I wore had been designed specifically for me for this trip and I looked poised, elegant, and like I was about to walk into a courtroom or board room. All business.
I wanted fun.
I stripped off the clothes and hung them over the desk chair. My heart was pounding as I picked up the bag I'd carefully hidden from my bodyguards. We'd gone shopping earlier today and I'd purchased several outfits of clothing appropriate for a princess...and one dress I knew my parents would have instantly vetoed. Tomas and Kai hadn't seen it because I hadn't modeled any of the clothes, but I'd had to give t
he saleswoman cash and ask her to ring the dress up separately, putting it in a small bag inside the other bag.
I opened the bag now and pulled out my small act of rebellion. I slipped it on and looked at myself again. Now I looked like a twenty-two year-old college graduate ready to enjoy Paris. It was a deep shade of blue that made my eyes stand out and flattered my curves. The hemline hit me mid-thigh, still modest but far shorter than anything my parents would've let me wear. The neckline was plunging, nearly revealing my bra, but still covered more than some of the things I'd seen the women here wearing.
I pushed my hair back from my face, tousling the curls into their usual haphazard mess. I'd cut it short my first day in London, butchering it purposefully so I'd have no other option than to go to a stylist and let her trim it even shorter. Tomas and Kai hadn't been happy about that and I knew they were dreading my parents' reaction. I didn't care. I was tired of being good and I knew that I had a lifetime of decisions being made for me or decisions made based on what was best for my people. For this short bit of time, I wanted to do things my way.
I glanced towards the balcony. So far, my rebellion had been little things. My hair would grow again. No one had to see the dress. Now, however, was the defining moment and I had the feeling that if I went through with it, things were going to change.
I walked over to the doors and opened them, stepping out onto the balcony. I was on the fourth floor, which meant it was too far for me to risk jumping, but I'd come up with a plan yesterday when I'd first started batting this idea around. When the family traveled, we always bought out the rooms on either side of where we stayed to ensure extra privacy. My parents had done the same thing when they'd made my reservations. The room on the right had a balcony too, only a couple feet away from mine. I'd slipped the maid some money this morning to make sure the doors to the balcony were unlocked. Even in this dress, I wouldn't have a difficult time getting to that balcony. Once there, I'd go through the room, into the hallway and off to freedom.
