Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EMMA
“I wish you could see my face right now,” Lola said through Emma’s earbuds. “I am fully agog.”
It was late, and the castle kitchen was awash in smells of cinnamon, nutmeg, and chocolate.
It was now stocked to Emma’s specifications—trays, piping bags and tips, a double boiler, candy thermometer, dozens of ingredients.
The tools to achieve her dreams were spread around her.
Now she just needed to figure out how to put all the pieces together.
“How are you feeling about everything?” Lola probed. “You don’t seem as excited as you should be. You do realize that you’re having a secret tryst with a prince, right? And you’re the envy of millions of women on planet earth?”
“It’s surreal. But it’s also bringing up some feelings that I didn’t expect,” Emma admitted.
Leo’s surprise make-out session had been on her mind all day, replaying over and over like a scene in a movie. It hadn’t exactly made planning this elaborate dessert easy.
“What kind of feelings?” Lola asked.
Emma lowered her voice. “I’m scared. Remember how good things were with Dylan in the beginning?
It was so exciting, so fresh. I fell head over heels for him, and he pulled the rug out from under me and then threw it—and me—into an incinerator the second things got difficult.
And I know this isn’t something serious.
It can’t be. But it’s bringing back some of that fear. ”
“Vulnerability is scary,” Lola said. “It’s been a long time since you let anyone in.
But Leo is not a Dylan. And even if he was, you’ll be an ocean away before you find that out.
I know this is hard for you, but try to just have fun.
Treat it like a vacation hookup. No expectations, only fun.
It’s only a few more days. Enjoy them. And don’t get caught. ”
“Right.”
The ever-shortening timeline didn’t bring her much comfort. As excited as she was to put this project behind her and celebrate the holidays with her mom, the prospect of never seeing Leo again filled her stomach with ceramic pie weights.
“I really hope that this sexy royal rendezvous is a palate cleanser for you. Your life has been nothing but stress and caregiving for over two years. It’s about time you opened yourself to the possibility of love again. Or at least some banging. You deserve a bigger, more wonderful life.”
“We’ll see. If the queen finds out, I’m going to be—shit.”
The door opened, and Emma stopped mid-sentence. Princess Ruby walked into the kitchen holding Emma’s coat. Had she heard anything?
“Lo, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” Emma plucked her headphones out and stowed them in her pocket.
“Hi, Princess. How are you feeling?”
Ruby touched a hand to her head. “I’m fine. I wanted to bring this back to you and say thank you.”
She handed over the coat.
Emma hung it from a peg by the door. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”
“You stepped in and protected me. Even against Paul.”
Emma shrugged. “People keep saying that, but I have no idea who that little prick is. Nor do I care.”
“Well,” Ruby said, circling around the large central kitchen island and inspecting a tray of tarts, “I got a text from a friend saying he’s unexpectedly spending his last semester of school in Italy.”
“Good,” Emma said flatly. Hopefully the women of Italy were well-equipped with tasers, mace, and large angry brothers.
Ruby looked hesitantly at the door and inched closer. “I also wanted to say thank you for your discretion.”
“I’ve already forgotten it,” Emma said. “Want one?” She offered the tray to Ruby.
“Uh, yes.” The girl plucked a tart off the tray without finding a plate. Emma could only imagine what the queen would have to say about bare-handing a pastry.
“I’m going to miss your baking,” Ruby said thoughtfully. “I wonder who Mother will hire next.”
“Well, in the fall, you can come visit me, and I’ll bake croissants for your whole dorm.”
“I feel better knowing that you’re going to be there,” Ruby said with a small smile. “Anyway, thank you again.”
She left. Emma had just settled back into her flow when the door swung open again. Her heart lifted for a second. Was it Leo?
But no, it was a far worse surprise.
The queen entered, still wearing a suit jacket and skirt even though it was nearly eleven p.m.
“Miss Clark,” she said.
“Good evening, Your Majesty,” Emma said, attempting a curtsy as best as she could while her hands were covered in flour and her limbs were stiff from almost dying and then sleeping on a hardwood floor. Cradled in the arms of her son. Oops.
Speaking of whom, was she going to be visited by the entire royal family before Leo showed up? She hadn’t seen or heard from him since their steamy moment in the gatehouse hours earlier. Not that she was keeping track or anything.
“I just wanted to see how things were coming along in light of your recent trauma.”
“Oh, everything’s fine. Your kitchen staff have been so helpful. I have everything I need, it’ll just take time to get all the components put together. I think you’ll be pleased with the results.”
Assuming she could pull it all off completely on her own since Maya was A) useless, and B) apparently having a royal sex vacation.
“I trust you’re right,” she said, striding around the kitchen with her hands clasped behind her back like she owned the place. Which she did. “I also wanted to ask, if it’s not too much trouble, could you make another batch of espresso croissants for Ruby before you leave? She really loves them.”
“I would be happy to.”
They were the pastry that had gotten her the job, after all. She owed the princess a lifetime of croissants.
“Thank you,” the queen said, staring off into the distance. “I also wanted to thank you for what you did for Ruby.”
Emma paused. Ruby hadn’t mentioned that she told the queen about what happened. It was better to play dumb.
“It was nothing.”
“That damn Paul,” the queen said with a tsk. “He’s as bad as his father. Lord Axley owns thirty luxury hotels between here, Italy, and Spain.”
“Well, that does explain Paul’s insufferable air of entitlement,” Emma said without thinking. Yikes. She probably shouldn’t have just said that to a queen.
Queen Eleanor had a ghost of a smile. “In a perfect world, we would dig out the stocks from the museum and make an example of him. But this isn’t a perfect world, and sometimes things have to be handled a little more diplomatically.”
Emma didn’t comment. If someone had sexually harassed her little sister, she would’ve pushed them off the Brooklyn Bridge.
“Leo also mentioned that you saved him from choking,” the queen said. “It seems our family has much to thank you for. As such, I’ve invited a representative from Food Magazine to come to the ball.”
Emma froze. Food Magazine was the preeminent food publication of the twenty-first century.
“I’m sure you can expect a significant feature on your gingerbread castle,” the queen added.
Great. Now the stakes were even higher. And worse, the journalist would probably assign all the credit to Maya.
“How kind. Thank you, Your Majesty,” she added with a curtsy.
A silence settled, but the queen didn’t leave. Emma sensed there was more than just the stress of the ball weighing on the queen’s mind.
“Ruby’s a wonderful girl,” Emma said. “You must be so proud of your children.”
“We’re very blessed,” she said quietly.
“It must be difficult for you, knowing that she’s going off to college next year.”
“Yes,” the queen said, gripping the edges of the sink and staring out at the dark courtyard.
“She’s my baby. My last child. And soon she’ll be thousands of miles away in a foreign place.
She’s always had a thirst for independence.
Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I tried too hard to keep her here, keep her safe.
She won’t even be here for her next birthday.
I’ve never missed any of my children’s birthdays. ”
What an uncharacteristically maternal thing to say for someone who had apparently been withdrawn and uninterested in Leo’s childhood.
“That sounds really hard,” Emma said. “If it would bring you any comfort, I’d be happy to make a birthday cake for Ruby. I’ll just be a few miles away when she’s at school. She won’t be alone.”
The queen turned to her. “That’s right. I’m grateful that she’ll have a friendly face nearby. Watch out for her, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t let her fall in love with an unemployed musician.”
Oh, a joke.
“I’ll do my best, but New York’s lousy with them.”
The queen gifted her with another ghost of a smile before gliding out of the kitchen.
Had she just made some headway? Maybe she would be more open to Emma and Leo spending time together. Or maybe Emma could find a way to save John from embarrassment or harm and complete the trifecta, thereby earning a sizable bonus in the second half of her payment.
But for now, it was best to keep things under wraps. Her mind turned to her secret rendezvous with Leo the next night. Would he keep his word, or would she show up to a dark, disappointing greenhouse?