There was something about hanging out by the pool in the middle of a summer day that made it impossible to be drowning in despair.
Perhaps that had been Kelsey’s plan…
“Ugh. What is in this pitcher?” Kelsey set down her wineglass and stuck her tongue out.
“It’s a white wine spritzer.” Ambra finished pouring another glass and handed it to Genevieve on her lounger.
“So you took perfectly good wine and watered it down with club soda?” Kelsey tossed the rest of her glass onto a rook-shaped topiary and refilled her glass from the pitcher of lemonade.
“It’s healthier,” Ambra sniffed. Then she flipped down the floppy brim on straw sun hat and settled on a lounge chair. “Genevieve can’t let herself go to rack and ruin over this man. It’s important to keep up appearances, so the world doesn’t see what he did to her. Looking good is the best revenge.”
Genny didn’t agree.
Nor did she want revenge.
But she was so exhausted from her sleepless night of alternately missing Theo and hating him that she just let them keep talking over her.
“‘Healthy’ wine. That sounds as silly as cauliflower crust pizza. If you do a thing, do it right. Don’t half-ass it.” Kelsey sat at the umbrella-shaded table and peered at the rest of the spread. “Should I even ask what’s in the bowl for lunch?”
“A kale salad with apples, radishes, and pecans.”
“Those things should not be combined. Ever.” Kelsey scrunched up her face. “Genny, did you order this?”
“No. Ambra very sweetly took care of the details.” She stared out across the shimmering blue of the pool to the solid wall of rosebushes. The explosion of apricot, yellow, and coral blooms usually cheered her up.
Today, they felt like a symbol. Pretty, but people kept their distance because of the thorns. Just like Genevieve. Pretty, but the sharp points of her tiara evidently kept people away. Which she’d always known. She’d just thought that Theo was different.
“Ambra, have you ever been through a breakup?” Kelsey asked.
“Oh, yes. Many times. I discard men as soon as they stop being fun. Or balk at buying me worthwhile presents.”
“Then how can you not be aware that fat and carbs are necessary stepping stones on the road to healing? Ice cream and nachos are what Genny needs.”
“Perhaps that’s why the obesity rates are so high in America. Because you eat your feelings.”
Their bickering was not in any way improving her mood. Genevieve pushed up onto an elbow. “Look, I’m not really hungry anyway, so it isn’t worth snarking over the menu. Can you two maybe not fight? I don’t think I can handle any more drama right now.”
Kelsey rushed to lean over the back of the lounger and drape her arms around Genny, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I just want to fix you, as fast as humanly possible. I don’t want you to keep hurting.”
“Nice to know that someone is concerned about not hurting me,” Genevieve muttered.
Thank goodness she hadn’t shared what was in her heart with Theo. That she hadn’t blurted out I’m falling in love with you, too. That she’d held back the full truth of her feelings—just as Theo had accused her of doing—and hidden behind the strictures of royal protocol.
“Genny.” Then her sister paused, as if deciding whether or not to continue. “As much as I’m here to bash Theo for the events of the past few days with you, I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you. It was just a thoughtless byproduct of his actions. He did care about you. That was obvious.”
Maybe so. Something had given away their relationship to Kelsey. But that just laid a good portion of the blame right back on Genevieve, for not being more cautious as they’d proceeded.
“It isn’t just the pain of losing him. It’s the guilt. I always knew that I had to be more careful, more guarded, more…perfect. What I’ve done to this family is worse than any hurt he inflicted.”
“What on earth…why?” Kelsey circled around to perch next to Genny’s legs. “What’s with that mindset?”
How did she distill everything about being part of a centuries-old monarchy down for Kelsey? The heavy, smothering weight of expectations of an entire country?
“Do you like baseball?”
Her sister shoved her sunglasses down her nose to roll her eyes. “Because I’m an American? Wow. Way to go for the cliché.”
“You do like hot dogs and pie. Quite a lot. So it’s a fair question.”
“Baseball is boring, but I’m aware of the ins and outs of the sport. Why?”
“Three strikes and you’re out, yes? That’s what I’ve been dealing with my whole life. First there was our mother’s suicide. Then your kidnapping—which set off a concern that the House of Villani can’t care for a kingdom if they can’t even care for their baby daughter. One more scandal and the House of Villani could fall for good. And after seven hundred years. I could be the one who toppled it.”
“Bullshit.”
“Kelsey, you just don’t understand yet.”
Fisting her hands on her hips, Kelsey said, “I understand enough. I understand that people have heaped guilt on you that in no way belongs to you. I understand that you can’t be a good role model to the kingdom if you don’t first and foremost take care of yourself. Living up to some impossible set of expectations with such a Sword of Damocles hanging over your head? That’s bullshit. You do you. You do you the best you can, and that’s all anyone can ask for.”
“Kelsey.”
“I’m not finished. Queen Serena’s suicide was a mental health crisis, not a tarnishing of the Crown. My kidnapping was…well, we don’t even know what it was, since they never found the perpetrator. But it wasn’t a reason to distrust the monarchy. If anything, it probably brought the kingdom together in shared grief. And a few topless photos of you are not the end of the world. Unfortunate and sucky, yes. An actual reason to call for the end of the monarchy? After all the good you do? Absolutely not. From what I’ve witnessed just in the past few months, your subjects are not ungracious enough to think that for a second.”
Ambra flew to her feet to confront Kelsey. “You’re in no position to lecture Genevieve on how to be royal.”
While she appreciated her friend coming to her defense, Genevieve knew it wouldn’t be right to hide behind her. “Actually, I think she is. I think Kelsey brings the objectivity and fresh take that might be exactly what we need. Thank you for the pep talk. I promise to take it to heart.”
“No problem.” Grinning, Kelsey dusted off her hands. “I owed you one. So now that the guilt trip and the pity party are over, all that’s left is getting over the breakup, right?”
Ambra clapped her hands together. “Oh, I think we should take a girl’s trip until all the hubbub blows over. How about India? You said you’ve always wanted to see the Taj Mahal. We’ll have an adventure that will thoroughly distract you.”
Visit a monument to true love? No, thank you. “I won’t run away.”
And she wouldn’t want to disappear on her father. That situation wasn’t improving. If her scandal hadn’t drawn him out of his rooms to lecture her, things were more dire than they’d thought.
“The offer stands. Maybe think about it for a day or two. We’d have a lovely time.”
“I appreciate the offer. I will say I’m not thrilled about holing up here at Alcarsa. What’s almost worse than the heartbreak is knowing there’s a leak again. That someone who could be in the palace right now is willing to sell me out.”
“Then we need to find it.” Kelsey brushed off her hands, clearly ready to get to work. “There’s got to be a trail to be uncovered. In this case, it shouldn’t be a long list of suspects. Not many people knew that you and Theo were going to be on that boat, right?”
Ambra blurted out, “I think it was Theo’s friend.”
>
While Genny was desperate for any lead, it didn’t fit. “Simon? Christian said he enjoyed hanging out with him. My brother’s got a pretty good radar for whose decent.”
“Plus, Simon helped me the night of the fire,” Kelsey added. “He was tireless and pretty wonderful. Isn’t he Theo’s best friend? Why would he do it?”
Ambra sneered. “Because he’s an American. That’s how they are. Always out for quick cash and second-hand fame.”
“Let’s not bash Americans, okay? Or I’ll be forced to start bashing jobless European socialites who don’t do anything to contribute to society.”
Omigosh, the bickering between these two. Genevieve definitely wished the wine wasn’t spritzered-up. Or that a dry martini would suddenly materialize in her hand. “Simon isn’t American. He’s British. They’ve just been working together in America.”
“He’s not from Moncriano. That’s all that matters,” Ambra said stubbornly.
Kelsey threw her arms up in the air. “What’s your beef with outsiders?”
“They can’t be trusted.” As soon as Kelsey whipped off her sunglasses, the heat of battle in her eyes, Ambra quickly amended, “Not as much. And when it comes to the royal family, trust has to be absolute. There’s no room for even a degree of laxness. That’s how we’ve protected her over the years.”
“I get that. But let’s come at this from a different angle. Theo doesn’t act like he’s still her enemy. All he’s done is been increasingly devoted to Genny. He’s got zero motive to cheat on her. Come on, she’s a beautiful, witty, princess. It doesn’t get better than that.”
Fanning herself with her hat, Ambra muttered, “Some men prefer quantity over quality. It is a known failing.”
“I’m just saying, what would his motivation be to cheat on her, to embarrass her—and even if he’s a player, to risk his job? Same for Simon. He’s got no motivation.”
“I’m sure it was for the payout.”
“Simon’s family is quite wealthy, actually,” Genevieve murmured. “I think he’s out of the running as a suspect.” And now Kelsey had her thinking. There’d been no clues that Theo might have a roving eye. There’d never been a time when she tried to reach him and he was unfindable or even unavailable.
Was it desperate to hold out the hope that her sister might be onto something? That perhaps she should’ve let Theo explain the photo?
“You should put security on it. Question everyone,” Kelsey insisted.
“It never does any good. We’ve tried, over the years. Obviously, nobody will admit their guilt and lose their jobs. The journalists refuse to deal with us.”
“They don’t want to lose their sources.” Nose wrinkled as if she literally smelled a rat, Ambra continued. “But if you ask me, they should be more worried about protecting the integrity of the Crown. It’s appalling.”
Ultra-democratic Kelsey didn’t let it lie. “Everyone’s got to pay their mortgage, Ambra. You can’t fault them for doing their job.”
As the two women continued to argue over the ethics of celebrity journalism, Genevieve got an idea.
They’d never had luck ferreting out moles because of course journalists protected their sources. Kelsey had a good point that they were expected to keep churning out fresh stories. But Genevieve had leverage to bargain with to get at the truth of who sold those photos.
What if she gave them the ultimate source—herself?
…
Simon hovered in the doorway. “Are you up for a chat?”
Theo gestured to the file cabinets. “We’re at work. If you need to talk to me, that’s kind of how it’s supposed to go.” Not that he’d gotten anything accomplished in the last few hours. Unless he counted stewing and moping and rerunning all the time he’d spent with Genevieve on a loop through his brain.
“Well, I didn’t know if you were in a mood where you’d punch the next person who pissed you off.” Simon jammed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I’ve got a date tonight. It’d give the wrong impression if I show up with a black eye.”
Okay, okay. Theo got the message. He’d been a short-tempered jerk since the first pictures hit the Internet. The second round had only made it worse. And since he was only in the country on loan, as it were, the only safe person to vent that temper on had been Simon.
His friend didn’t deserve it.
Much like Genevieve didn’t deserve what she was going through. And, damn it, he didn’t deserve to be dumped. Life was on a real roll of kicking people in the balls.
“How about I put hazard pay on the table? Plus a six-pack of Boddington’s for every time I snap at you. Get your ass in here.”
Simon shut the door behind him. “I’ve got something to say.”
“If it’s about the events of the last week, forget it. There’s nothing you could add I haven’t already thought of.”
Crossing his arms, Simon asked, “Oh, so you’ve figured out who’s behind it all? The boat pictures and the one of you in the restaurant?”
It hadn’t taken Theo long to determine that the photo that had made Genevieve break up with him was from the night they hung out with Christian and the drunk woman straddled him in an effort to get to the prince. There was nothing hinky about it. It could be explained away in a handful of sentences.
But that would only work if the princess was talking to him. She’d kicked him out of her bed, her home, and most importantly, her circle of trust. And Theo honestly couldn’t say that he blamed her.
“No. But she has every reason to think I betrayed her. It’s happened to her again and again. So tracking down the culprit doesn’t matter.”
“Really? You don’t want the chance to fix things with the princess? You’re not the sorriest sad sack I’ve ever seen who isn’t doing shit to help himself?”
He’d made a mistake. A big one. Now he had to face the consequences. “It’s because of me that half-naked photos of her are splashed around the world right now.”
“Bollocks.” Simon slammed his fist on the desk as he sat. “You did a nice thing. A romantic mini-break. Even the photographer isn’t to blame. It’s the piece of shit who sold you both out who is. We should find them.”
“We? Did our job descriptions get expanded to two-man investigative team?”
“It’s what we’ve been doing all along, isn’t it? We’ll just shift our focus from budgets to something far sleazier. You’re not a quitter, Theo. You’re bloodied and got the wind knocked out of you, but it’s time you got up and got back in the game.”
He shook his head. “Genevieve won’t give me a second chance.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. First things first, find out the cock-sucking scum who divulged you were on the boat. Secondly, punch their balls into their brains.”
Wow. The only other time he’d seen Simon so upset was when England gave up a goal in the championship match of the World Cup. “You’re fired up.”
“As you said, that’s the job. I’m here to help you do what needs be done.”
“Thanks. But I’m not sure we should risk beating the hell out of someone. If another photo of me surfaces this week, I’ll lose my job.”
“Clearly we’d both be wearing ski masks.”
“In August? Yeah, that wouldn’t be suspicious at all—” Theo held up a hand as an incoming call flashed across his computer screen. It was Prime Minister Skaggit. After holding a finger to his lips, he put it on speaker.
And also hit record, just as a precaution.
“Prime Minister, what may I do for you today?” Simon was making broad, elaborate gestures pointing out that seemed to indicate he…wasn’t here? Ah. “And I’m alone, so you may speak as frankly as you did at our last meeting.”
“Wonderful. I had to call and compliment you. Well done taking the shine off of a certain royal. You’ve exceeded
my expectations.”
Although it galled Theo, he managed to choke out, “Thank you.”
“This latest development will certainly lead the EU to re-thinking their invitation to Moncriano. I look forward to your report. If it is what I expect, you’ll be well rewarded.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
He disconnected the call.
Then his friend looked at him, pale blue eyes wide. “The report’s complete. I finished the final tweaks this morning.”
“What did you think?”
Simon leaned back and interlaced his hands across his stomach. “It’s solid work. Every assumption you present has facts to back it up. Nobody could argue with a single page. But…” Then he contorted his mouth into a grimace.
“Yeah. It’s not at all what the prime minister is expecting.” And yet Theo hadn’t so much as drafted an alternate version. Any other attempt at interpreting the facts would be nothing more than creative spin. Worse, it’d be false.
“Ha! This is nowhere near close to what she wants. It’s a pretty strong commendation of both the princess and the entire House of Villani.” A big, shit-eating grin washed over Simon’s face. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Theo tapped the face of his phone. “I might have to. Who am I to stand up to orders of the prime minister?”
“You realize she’s a vile person, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
Simon pushed a swoop of brown hair off his forehead. “You know she needs to be stopped.”
In a perfect world, sure.
But Theo had learned the day he’d left this country that the world was far from perfect and life was not at all fair. “Maybe?”
“Bollocks again. What she’s trying to pull here, messing with the monarchy and the popular vote on the European Union, it’s dead wrong.”
Possibly.
Probably.
That decision, though, was way above his pay grade. Not to mention more complex than a freshly returned ex-pat could grasp. It couldn’t possibly be so cut and dried. Could it?
Ruling the Princess Page 26
