22. Nick
Chapter twenty-two
Nick
A fter my biweekly meeting with the Privy Council, I'm returning to my office when I find an unpleasant surprise waiting for me.
Luther stands guard outside my office door, and standing next to him is Gerald. I slow my steps because Gerald's presence is indicative of Mother’s presence.
Wonderful.
Sure enough, when I step into my office, Mother is hovering over my desk, rummaging through the piles of disorganized paperwork that clutter its surface.
Now that I'm a working royal, I really need to hire someone to oversee my office correspondence.
Also, I really miss Johann. He never would have allowed Mother to barge into my office without my knowledge. But Luther, a much newer member of the Royal Guard, was probably too intimidated to refuse.
"Hello, Queen Bee." I’m not the only member of the family to have been nicknamed in the press.
Known for her snobbish and haughty attitude, Mother was often called Queen Bee and the Queen of Mean after her marriage to my father.
It took years, and lots of PR rehab, before my mother finally won over the media, but occasionally, the nicknames still pop up.
I enjoy doing my part to keep them alive.
"Can I help you find something, or would you rather continue snooping? "
The gifted gaslighter that she is, Mother sneers, turning the tables on me. "Really, Nicholai. Your impudence is unbecoming of a member of this family."
"So is snooping, Mother," I riposte, unwilling to back down.
"Care to share what's bothering you? Or would you rather test the strength of your telepathic abilities?
" I suggest sarcastically, as I drop carelessly into my desk chair.
While I await her response, I spin back and forth in the chair, unconcerned.
However, my flippant demeanor is a scrupulously constructed veneer, one that I mastered a long time ago, and it's especially useful in getting under Mother's skin.
With an unladylike harrumph, Mother retreats from my desk and settles primly on a chair, before leveling me with an unwavering stare. "We have a problem, Nicholai. Tell me more about this woman, Carisa Claridge."
Mother spits out Carisa's name as if it pains her to say it aloud. Interesting.
Unbuttoning my blazer, I adjust myself in my seat, taking a moment to get comfortable. "I've already told you her relevant information."
"Well, that isn't enough. Gerald heard back from the investigator. He reported that he has uncovered some," she pauses, her voice growing icy, "undesirable and suspicious information regarding the girl."
"Suspicious how? Didn't pass all her final exams with flying colors? Didn't attend a prestigious enough primary school? Too much commoner in her gene pool diluting her noble bloodlines? "
As I rack my brain, I can't think of anything potentially troublesome.
Carisa excelled at uni, always earning top marks.
She's from a wealthy, old money family, just the type of snobs Mother appreciates.
Carisa hardly ever drank, so it seems unlikely that she's a closet alcoholic or hiding a drug habit.
She told me that she wasn't dating anyone new, so it's doubtful that she has a secret boyfriend.
What else could it be?
Perhaps she's sick? That might explain her haggard appearance. I chalked it up to work stress, but maybe it's something health related.
Ignoring my sarcasm, Mother continues, "The investigator was tight-lipped.
He said it was delicate and would best be relayed in person.
Unfortunately, he's away and won't be back in the city for several days.
" She pauses, tapping the toe of her Christian Louboutin pumps, the staccato beat irritating me.
"This is unfortunate timing given the release of that news article claiming that you're dating someone.
The press is desperate to find out the identity of your girlfriend. "
"Well, Mother, next time I'd suggest not leaking a story about my fake relationship then. It was a tad presumptuous."
Dismissing my accusation that her team planted story, she soldiers on as if I hadn't said a word, confirming my assumption.
"Depending on what the investigator has to say, we may need to find a new candidate.
This means that you need to put a stop to any future plans you have with that woman.
We need to find out what she's hiding first."
"This works out well because Carisa and I agreed to wait a few weeks before we start spending time together again. She wants to further establish herself within her financial firm before she becomes a puppet for the palace."
Based on my mother's offended visage, I probably should have been more diplomatic in my delivery, even if I am quoting Carisa directly, but I really don't care what Mother thinks of Carisa or what Carisa thinks of the monarchy. This thing with Carisa is simply a means to an end.
"Mother, I have absolutely no idea what the investigator found, but it's most likely nothing of importance.
I'm sure whatever it is isn't as bad as you think.
Her father probably donated to an anti-monarchist fund a decade ago or something.
" Knowing I need to appease Mother so she won't start setting me up on blind dates again, I reach across my desk and pat her hand reassuringly.
Pulling her hand out from under mine, she murmurs, "Very well. Also, Estelle arrives in a few minutes—"
"Ellie's here?" I ask, interrupting my mother. I straighten in my chair. I haven't seen Ellie since I returned from America. I had no idea she was planning a visit.
"Yes, she's a big fan of some Hollywood someone-or-other who will be attending the meeting with that film director, so she wanted to meet their group.
" Mother waves her hand through the air, dismissively.
"Given that Estelle is now available to lead the meeting, it frees you up for an interview with Belgrovinian Business Insider . "
Internally, I groan in annoyance while maintaining a neutral expression. I've been looking forward to the meeting with the director.
"What is he interviewing me about?"
"The movie initiative you and Alexander are coordinating. You'll be discussing your plan to incentivize the movie industry to film here, along with the projections you've made regarding tourism, job growth, local economic boosts, etc."
"Of course," I reply, my previous excitement restored. If I'm no longer meeting with the director, at least I can still keep my finger on the pulse of our plan.
Mother stands to leave, hesitating in the doorway. Casting an apprehensive glance over her shoulder, she starts, "About Carisa—"
Interjecting, I soothe her worries, "I promise, there's nothing unsavory to be found."
Still unconvinced, Mother remarks with a clipped voice, "I hope so, Nicholai, but I have a bad feeling."
"Where are you going with that smug smile?
" I ask Alex as I catch up to him in the hallway after finishing my interview with Ricardo Ramone, the journalist from the business magazine. Surprisingly, Ricardo stuck to business and commerce questions. I’ve had more than one journalist book interviews with me under the guise of discussing a serious issue and then quickly segue into questions regarding my dating proclivities.
However, this bloke never veered off topic, which I appreciated.
Alex, with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up and his hands in the pockets of his trousers, appears relaxed, but the energy flowing off him is anything but.
His eyes are wild and bright as he tosses me a manic smile.
He seems…antsy. Jittery. I narrow my eyes and await his explanation for this uncharacteristic behavior.
"Ellie's here, so I was going to find her and say hello. Haven't seen her in a bit."
Likely story. I'm not buying it.
I cross my arms and wait for him to elaborate. When he doesn't, I prod, "I love our little sister as much as you do, but you're not usually so keen to see her."
"Like I said, I haven't seen her in weeks."
I scoff. "You can lie to other people but not to me. Spill, Alex. What's got you skipping down the corridor in the middle of the day like a kid on his way to meet Santa Claus?"
"It's better than Father Christmas, mate." Alex takes a step toward me, lowering his voice, "I just found out that the film director Ellie's meeting with brought along a few Hollywood stars with him."
"Mother mentioned something about that. Isn't that why Ellie decided to take the meeting? The first meeting she's taken in years, by the way. Who did she want to meet?"
"Some Jasper guy," Alex shrugs. "He was in that mafia movie last year that won some awards. Blood Bath , I think it was called."
"Never saw it."
"Me either."
"So, then why are you so excited?"
"Because he's also bringing along Willa Radford."
For a split second, I believe I've experienced an auditory hallucination because I thought my brother said that Willa was here. In the palace.
But then Alex continues talking, reiterating the point to such an extent that I can confirm I heard him correctly the first time.
No hallucinations. No need to check myself into the psych ward yet.
"Willa freaking Radford, mate!" Enthusiastic, Alex hits me in the shoulder hard enough to knock me back a step. "I can't believe she's here. If I'd known the director was bringing her along, I would've taken the meeting myself."
"Are you twelve, or are you the King of Belgrovinia? Get it together," I chide, rubbing my arm where he hit me while simultaneously trying not to lose my cool.
Willa is here! It's fate. It's kismet. It's serendipity .
How the hell do I approach this? I scroll through my limited options.
Option one: Run into the room, throw her over my shoulder, and then drag her straight to my bedroom.
I rub my hand down my face. Option one seems a bit barbaric.
Okay, next. Option two: I ask to speak with her alone, apologize, beg her to forgive me, and then declare my undying love for her.
Option two is…better, but love seems a bit of a stretch. We had a two-week vacation fling.
But, God, I can't declare my undying like for her. That sounds pathetic and juvenile.
Onto option three. Surely, option three will be the winner. Only…I can't fathom what—
"Why do you look like you're constipated all of a sudden?"
I'd forgotten that Alex was even standing next to me .
My head zings to meet his eyes as I pray for a believable lie to pour from my mouth. "That salmon filet I had at lunch seemed a bit dodgy," I stammer.
But we know each other too well. Alex senses that I'm lying. With squinty eyes, my brother scrutinizes me.
"Arrgh," I mutter aggressively as I begin to pace. "Look, I didn't tell you—"
A door opens and Ellie pops her head out. "Oh, Nick! I thought I heard your voice," she cries, a wide smile stretching across her pretty face. Sauntering to where we stand, she throws out her arms to give us hugs. "And Alex! I didn't expect to see you."
"Good to see you, little sister."
"Come, I want you to meet some people," she implores, tugging my hand. "Alex, if you're free, I'm sure they'd love to meet you as well, but they'll understand if you're needed elsewhere. "
"Oh, he's free alright," I grumble under my breath as we enter the room behind Ellie.
"Stewart, Hugh, Fiona, Jasper, and Willa, I'd like to introduce you to my brothers, King Alexander and Prince Nicholai," Ellie says, sweeping her hand around the room.
Our guests stand from their seats. The women curtsy and the men bow politely, but my eyes are locked on Willa. She's transformed back into the sleek Hollywood version of herself, far removed from the woman I knew in North Carolina.
This beautiful woman shines in the spotlight. Without demanding it, Willa naturally claims the attention of everyone in the room.
But underneath her outward sparkle, I sense the turbulence. She lacks the innate joie de vivre that she possessed in Saltside. She's playacting her role as the Hollywood starlet.
I clock the moment she raises her head from her curtsy and sees me. An expression of horrified shock crosses her face. Wide-eyed and pale, she leans back, nearly collapsing onto the chair behind her.
Forgetting decorum, I rush to her side, concerned. "Are you alright?" I whisper, as I kneel in front of her. Her alarmed eyes meet mine and her hand raises. Briefly, I think that she's going to stroke my cheek, but then just as quickly, she drops her hand into her lap.
Her well-practiced, polished smile returns. "Sorry, yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking, Your Highness. I stood up too quickly," she offers to the group, “and felt a tad light-headed for a second.”
Alex snaps his fingers as though he's just remembered something. "Oh, that's right. I forgot that you two met once while Nick was in America." For the second time in the span of ten minutes, Alex hits me in the arm and states, "You never did tell me how you two met, Nick."
"Yes, we did meet once, Your Majesty." Willa nods slowly as her eyes dart to mine. "It was brief. Fairly unmemorable, really."
I'm so fucked.