Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Giving my best Neanderthal grunt, I pivot on my heel and beeline back into the sanctuary of the workshop.
I set down the tulips at the end of the broad table.
They look spectacular in a range of red, purple, and pink.
Ethan and Miles trail me, and Ethan shuts the door behind him with the help of a gust of wind rattling the door in its frame. Miles beelines to the kitchen.
Despite the chill of the air, my shoulders ease at the click of the lock, the surety that Aidan’s out—and we’re sealed in, well away from him. Even if I need to do some explaining to Ethan and James, too, for that matter, about why Aidan was here.
All I can say is rubbernecking. I’m unconvinced Aidan truly misses me. I didn’t see it in his eyes, the way he spoke to me. Possibly, he misses being in the society pages and being seen. But more than anything, he wants what he can’t have—precisely because he can’t have me anymore.
Even if the kiss with Edward—Eddie—wasn’t genuine, Aidan doesn’t know it’s a fake arrangement, without any feelings there.
And God forbid Aidan finds out about me and Stef together.
Which would be the worst—not for me, but what if he starts in on Stef?
Or even Eddie? I frown. The situation with Eddie isn’t real, but he’s a good person and doesn’t need Aidan in his business at the very least.
My phone buzzes. I check the message.
I remember about how into unauthorized rendezvous you used to be back when you were fun Ax
“Fucker.” Groaning, I shake my head.
With a deep breath, I finally block Aidan’s number.
God, it feels good. I turn my phone off and pass it to Ethan with a certain finality. “Toss this into the Thames for me. I never want to see it again. Please and thanks.”
“Theodor, what’s going on?” Ethan peers at me with concern.
I give him squinty eyes for the onslaught of my full given name. “There’s no need to be like that. Aidan first, now getting Theodored by you, of all people.”
Reluctantly, Ethan slides my phone into his blazer pocket. “Fine. I’ll keep your phone for the afternoon, but I’m not tossing it into the river.” He perches on the stool opposite me as I resume my spot at the table.
I click my laptop shut and give an overly dramatic sigh. “For the record, he just turned up without warning. Aidan, I mean.”
“I gathered that much, yes. And, perceptively, I also clocked your enthusiasm at seeing Aidan, which is about on par with what he deserves. Forget him. I’m more interested in your trip.
How was your mysterious weekend away? With your duke or viscount or earl or whatever.
” Ethan waves a hand, summing up the aristocracy in a single movement.
“I… didn’t go away with the duke, actually.” I cough.
He blinks. “Where did you go, then?”
Being an arsehole to someone like Aidan is totally fine, but Ethan doesn’t deserve it.
And I owe him some manner of explanation.
I didn’t lie, exactly, but I didn’t correct his assumption last week when I said I was taking Friday off.
He told me to have a good weekend with my duke. Assuming it was Eddie is all on him.
“Scotland.”
“Scotland?”
“You may have heard of it, big country up north?” I peer at him and point north, very helpfully. “That way?”
Ethan twists his paper cup of tea in between his hands, shaking his head. “Yes, Theodor,” he says, “I know all about Scotland. I spent two weeks camping in the Highlands last summer, remember? And I’m a quarter Scottish.”
“You can never be too careful these days.”
“Quit stalling. Spill.”
“Okay, fine. Have it your way. I went to see Stef.”
“Oh, he’s Stef now?” Ethan tries to hide a smile, but he’s too amused to be convincing in the slightest.
I give him a thunderous look, but the damage is done: I was too casual, too easy.
Careful, Theo. Even with Ethan.
“Prince Stefanos, thank you very much,” I retort.
“So testy this day.” Ethan shakes his head. But his eyes still glimmer. “How was the visit with him? Did you two sink anything this time in Edinburgh?”
“Actually, loose lips sink ships.”
“I’ll file that gem right next to my knowledge of Scotland.” Ethan looks solemn, indulging my nonsense. Which I’ll gladly take right about now. “You had a good time, then?”
“We stayed off the water,” I confirm with a noncommittal sound. Of course I had an excellent time—beyond excellent, even. Of course I’m not up for talking about it. Not right now. Possibly never.
“I’m your friend, not the press, remember?” Ethan prompts. He waits.
“Yeah. I know. How about… we talk about this after work? I can get James to come by, too, so I don’t have to go through this twice.
” Stalling buys me time. Which may get me out of talking about Stef because the weekend together feels too private.
Too raw. Too upsetting, if I’m truly honest, about how things ended.
And, importantly, why. Something heavy settles around my heart.
Ethan sighs, shaking his head. “Full evasive maneuvers, duly noted.”
“Sorry.”
I wish I could bring myself to talk to Ethan right now.
But the truth is, I want to lose myself in work.
The craving for the distraction is visceral.
Otherwise, I might start emoting messily, and no work will get done—and I’ll feel even more shit than what I do already.
And then I’ll still have to talk to James, because experience has told me I can only keep him at bay for so long when he’s on a mission.
So I may not get out of spilling eventually, but at least I can avoid it for a little while longer.
“Pub later? I’ll check the back’s free and book the room.” Ethan smiles encouragingly at me. “We’ll see if I can get Sacha out too. Too much lawyering just leads to hairy palms, as they say.”
“You’ll never get into a club like that. Or, incidentally, laid.”
“I’ll tell him.” Ethan chuckles and goes to put the kettle on for more tea. I take the opportunity to forget about both Aidan and Stef for a few hours in favor of my design plans. Because God knows those days are limited too. And reality is hurtling at me at a speed entirely out of my control.
By 6:00 p.m., we’re in the back of our local pub in the small private room.
James does the old hat-and-sunglasses thing to get in without being noticed, having turned up unannounced at the end of our workday as he does on occasion to urge us on for drinks.
Ethan’s partner, Sacha, has a case wanting more attention, so Sacha’s bailed for now.
Ethan carries in a round of pints for the three of us.
“Drink up, boys.” Ethan sets down the lager on the round oak table. The glasses clink against each other, and a little slops onto the table. “I also checked in case Aidan’s skulking around here, but no sign of him.” He also hands back my phone.
“Thanks,” James tells him, retrieving a glass. “Very kind as always.”
I nod my approval as I follow suit. “Thanks, man.”
At last, I turn my phone back on. There’s a text from Mamma, but that’s it for both admirers and foes. I flip it face down on the table.
James peers at me, appraising. “You still look terrible.”
“I didn’t sleep well,” I protest, smoothing my grayscale floral-print shirt, a Dolce & Gabbana number I put on as a pick-me-up this morning. “Is that a crime?”
Ethan laughs. “You look well enough, Theo. Don’t worry.”
“All I have left is my vanity,” I complain. “Please don’t take that away from me too.”
“Aidan also showed up this afternoon,” Ethan informs James. He gives James a meaningful glance. I shudder at the reminder.
James splutters on his pint. “You should warn a man about such things before he takes a drink,” he admonishes Ethan, whose grin spreads.
“Now you know,” I tell James, matter-of-fact. “The truth is, I’m worn the fuck out with everything. The drive alone to and from Scotland for a weekend would do it. Never mind the Aidan factor.”
James tsks. As ever, he zeroes in on me without faltering. “Never mind presumably fucking your brains out. Though I trust Stef has some sense, at least.”
Wisely, I say nothing and sip my drink.
“You did see him, yes? The odometer suggests you made it to Edinburgh.”
“I did,” I confirm, doing my best to look as prince-neutral as I can, the royalty game face. It’s one I’m going to need, so I may as well start practicing now.
James isn’t buying my impassive look. “And then what?”
“And then what?” I shake my head at him. It looks like the benefits of stalling have run out. “We visited.”
“You’re back a day early,” James points out.
“True,” Ethan agrees, giving me a curious look. “You honestly didn’t say much about your trip. Which is an even faster trip to Scotland than planned. Are you a drug mule now?”
“Yeah.” I sip my pint and weigh out the fact that it’s safer to go along with this. The two of them together can take a turn if I’m not careful. “I’ve got a new calling. I was meaning to let you know. Tell that to the tabloids. Aidan’ll make a killing.”
James shivers. “Don’t mention that man’s name. You may summon him. I’m very cross with him for what he’s done.”
“Me too.” Ethan lifts his pint, shaking his head. “Not a shred of decency, as it turns out.”
There’s definitely some satisfaction to be had that my friends are as upset with Aidan as I am.
“Maybe slap on some garlic to keep him at bay,” I advise.
“So a day early and no duke updates,” says Ethan, taking stock. He mulls me over his drink.
“Stefanos, for the record, hasn’t returned my text.” James’ gaze doesn’t give way in the slightest. “You didn’t murder him, Theo, did you?”
I squawk. “Of course not. I’m not that sort of prince. I’m a very non-murdery sort of royal.”
James narrows his eyes at me. “You better not have hurt him.”
Startled, I blink at him. “No. Definitely not intentionally. I mean…”
“Theo, I was going to introduce you both for a quick fling after Aidan dumped you. And that’s all.” James gives me a stern look. “Don’t forget you have a whole kingdom counting on you. You’re both my friends, but believe me, neither of you needs the complication of the other.”
“Oh God.” I slide my drink aside, fold my arms on the table, and bury my face. A moment later, Ethan’s patting my shoulder. My voice is muffled. “Don’t remind me about the kingdom.”
“And what about the complications?” James presses, concern in his voice.
“There are none to worry about.” I haven’t moved.
“Good. There better not be. Also, don’t forget about Edward.”
“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten about Edward, thanks.” With a sigh, I sit up, feeling more like a light-headed Victorian with the galloping consumption rather than my usual self. I gulp down some of my lager.
James holds my gaze. He waits. “What happened with Stef?”
“Nothing happened with Stef.” I squirm. But I’m trapped, and there really isn’t a way out of this.
Lying to James is a much more solid choice than lying to Ethan, who listens in curiously.
“Nothing happened all the way to Scotland, hmm?” James asks archly. “Well, then? Out with it.”
“We were just trying to problem-solve the yacht situation. That’s all. I mean, aside from the charitable donation,” I say as mildly as I can, shrugging. There’s nothing there James can rip to shreds.
Unconvinced, James presses his lips together. He raps the table. “Theo, I hate to remind you yet again, but your freewheeling days are numbered.”
“Yeah, I know.” I glance at Ethan, giving him a wry look. We founded the business together, and I don’t want to let him down.
Ethan just shrugs. “It’s out of my control. You do what you need to do. We’ll figure out the business. I can buy you out, as a potential option.”
I slump. “That’s very kind, but I would still rather be working at the business.”
“Do you have a timeline for going to Denmark… and everything?” Ethan asks.
“Unknown. I don’t know how long I can stall my family, unfortunately.”
“Which means, I implore you, to seriously consider Edward.” James looks at me. “You can have a mutually beneficial arrangement. Get to know him. See what happens. Make a plan together.”
“It’s not very romantic, is it?” I tell him with a sigh. “When you put it like that.”
“Princes don’t have time for romance except in select fairy tales,” James informs me sternly. “Yourself included.”
“What about you?” I stare him down.
“I’m not as high up in the line of succession,” James points out. “Not as high as you are, anyway. It’s different for me. Also, romance doesn’t seem to have worked out lately for me either. I might as well find a marriage of allegiance.”
I fidget with the cuff of my shirt. If only things were different.
Despite my efforts to work this afternoon, my thoughts kept drifting back to Stef.
About how he was doing after my visit. Thank God Ethan had my phone in the afternoon so I couldn’t text him.
And I can’t forget the way Stef tasted like apples against my lips, the shiver rippling through his body as I traced his smooth skin in bed, the urgent way he looked at me as if I meant something important to him.
Even if, as we both noted, it was for pretend only.
“Earth to Theo.” James raps his knuckles sharply on the table again, bringing me back.
“Sorry.”
“You’re a million miles away.”
“I told you, I’m tired…”
James ignores this. “Repeat after me: I will contact Edward this week and talk about a future together.”
“I—wait. What?” I frown at him. “Are you trying to brainwash me?”
“Of course not. I’m trying to help you.” James looks affronted. “I’m no kind of hypnotherapist.”
Ethan tries to hide a smile behind his pint, but his eyes give him away. Then he gives me a wry look. “I’m sorry, Theo. It’s a complicated situation for sure, becoming the Danish—”
“Shh,” I say quickly, in case the specter of Aidan or some other tabloid-spilling eavesdropper has manifested in the corners, just waiting to discover I’m now the very likely future Danish King, even though we have the room entirely to ourselves, and the bar staff have always been very discreet.
Not only with us, but there are plenty of celebs who stop in, and they do an admirable job in defending the privacy of their guests.
Yet, something twists in my stomach. Freja’s secret is still a secret.
For now.
“Listen,” I tell James, raising my hands in surrender. Time to compromise to appease him. I need to try with the decoy, as James keeps pointing out, because time is running out. Stef, at least, has been clear about where he stands. “I’ll at least talk to Eddie this week, okay?”
James looks terribly satisfied. “Good man. Excellent news.”