30. Chapter 30
Bishop
W hen thinking about life, I sometimes find myself with the notion that people make it entirely more dramatic than it really needs to be. All the rushing about, the hand wringing, the will-they won’t-they, it’s all quite a bit of fuss for something that could be accomplished with far less fanfare.
Or maybe my cousin’s love life has left me just this side of positively exhausted. Not even sarcasm and dry humor are enough to save me at this point. For star’s sake, he nearly started a war and ended a monarchy just by trying to find a woman to get married. Even worse, I nearly got married in the process.
Cue the full body shuddering.
I glanced toward the garden where the lovebirds were looking at roses . That was what they’d said before they’d left the luncheon. Michaela wanted a tour of the gardens before they left for their trip to America. I cocked an eyebrow and frowned. Unless the rose garden was near his beloved’s tonsils and Leo had a set of eyes in his tongue, then they weren’t interested in horticulture of any kind. I shook my head and traveled back inside. They didn’t need me mucking things up. They finally had each other, my job was done, and it was time to move on.
Since the New Year’s ball, they’d been inseparable. I was honestly surprised that Leonidas didn’t insist on marrying her on the spot, but maybe he thought all of her injuries would ruin the wedding photos. Instead, they’ve opted for a spring wedding. Since my uncle, the King of Nolcovia, is well again, there’s no longer the urgent need to seal the deal, so to speak.
I frowned as I walked, still a little disappointed Aunt Mariah wasn’t the evil queen I thought she was. She just dressed like it. Though, now that her husband was no longer fighting for his life because that tart from Eshein was poisoning him, our queen had been far more agreeable. They were nearly as bad as the lovebirds.
Yesterday, I went into the throne room to read a book on Leo’s throne. To clarify, I didn’t want the power or responsibility, but the cushioning is just perfect if you angle your body so that your leg hangs over the arm and your… I digress. My irreverence for the monarchy aside, I was jolted when I found the king and queen making out like teenagers on the king’s throne. Safe to say I made my exit before they could see me, or I could be damaged any further.
Turns out, a woman in love is almost as dangerous as a domestic terrorist plot. Lesson learned. Aunt Mariah was losing her husband, her son, and her country all at once and it had an ill effect on her temperament, but now that all three had been restored, she’d stopped dressing like a goddess of the underworld, and she had left all the meddling and manipulating in my capable hands.
Where it ought to be, in my opinion.
Michaela and I might have seen a few of the queen’s actions in the wrong light as well. But it wouldn’t be the first time a new bride got off on the wrong foot with her in-laws.
I snickered as I left the main entry. At least I could leave.
Though some good had come of all the hubbub. All parties involved agreed that it was ludicrous in the twenty-first century that a woman couldn’t rule Nolcovia. Once the empty parliament seats were filled again with people who weren’t interested in a coup, legislation would be passed, I was sure of it. But then Leo had come to see the strength in ruling alongside a spouse. Though… in their case, I had the feeling Leo would be the one tempering his precious Coco.
I stopped in the Hall of Kings and stared up at King Drysden’s portrait. “What do you say, ol’ chap? Where shall I go next? Who is in need of my special brand of mischief and mayhem?”
Of course, he stayed quiet on the matter. But that was inconsequential. I had options. Resuming my stroll, I considered heading to the South of France. Duchess Codilly wintered there and the villa was pristine; however, the beaches were chilly for my taste this time of year, and the aging royal could get a bit handsy. Australia was another option. A musician had offered her bungalow as a retreat of sorts, but the spiders in the country were larger than house cats, and even that gorgeous rockstar’s beauty hadn’t outweighed my nightmares over being eaten alive by arachnids.
Maybe I would head to London. Gwendolyn had returned to an aunt’s home last I heard, still licking her wounds and perfectly vulnerable. I look enough like Leo that perhaps a little transference was possible and at least a few weeks of fun could be—
“Bishop!” I heard his call the second time and turned, confused as to why producer Tom would be calling me. The show had ended over a week ago, why was he still at the palace to begin with? “Bishop, hold up!”
I held steady and waited for him to jog the remaining distance. He panted a little as he came to a stop, hand up to ask silently for a moment to catch his breath. Between deep inhales, he managed a few words, “I thought you might have left.” He drew in a gulp of air. “I’m so glad I caught you.”
“I can’t imagine why.” The fervency of his words pricked my curiosity. What would the American producer want with me? His show was about royals finding love, and I was neither royal nor looking for love, so it made absolutely no sense to seek me out.
“An offer, of course.” Tom stared like it was obvious.
I assure you it was not.
“What kind of offer?”
“Well,” he motioned to the hall and began walking again, “as you may know, I produce shows like Royally… Yours all over the world. We have one starting soon in a small country outside of Turkey with a princess who is looking for her prince.”
Hard pass. I waved him off. “No way. Not for me. I won’t be one of those blokes fawning over royalty for fame and marriage. I don’t want the crown, and I’m not interested in the ring.”
“I figured as much,” Tom agreed. “That’s where Royally… Yours is going, and my business partner will head that one up. I’m headed to the States for a different project.”
He had my wavering attention back again. I hadn’t been to America in nearly a decade. It might be a good distraction if the circumstances were ideal.
“What are you filming there?”
“The US wants a spinoff of Royally… Yours . This one is called Forever Yours .” Tom waited for it to sink in a bit before he continued. “Americans love celebrities, but what they really love is watching washed-up celebrities on reality TV.”
Maybe I was a bit American because that appealed to me far more than royalty. Celebrities had all the fame and fortune with so much less responsibility than the monarchy. I took a stab at what I thought his formula might be for the show. “So, you have some failed starlet looking for love and a little fame to resuscitate her career along the way?”
I must have nailed it because Tom grinned. “See? You’re made for this business.”
“That depends on where your job offer lies. Are you looking for a mindless meathead to parade in front of the cameras?”
“That position is open, if you want it.” Tom slowed his steps. “But, I truly believe your talent is best served behind the camera.” He stopped walking and faced me, eyes slightly narrowed with scrutiny. “You manipulated, coerced, and fabricated stories to get your cousin exactly where you wanted him to be. Your maniacal meddling shot viewership up by ninety percent.” He ran his hand across the back of his neck. “That proposal scene, it was breathtaking genius, and traffic took out our website twice. And to think that neither Michaela or Leonidas saw the hidden cameras, perfectly orchestrated and executed. Bonus footage like that will drive profits right up until the wedding special. You have raw talent like I’ve never seen before.” He waited for me to process what he was saying, and then continued. “Yes, you could be the man-candy onscreen. I could even make a show that revolved around you, if you’d rather.” He caught my attention there for a moment. “But what I really need is a calculating, devious puppet master behind-the scenes creating the drama that reels in the mindless masses.”
Maybe it was the flattery. Maybe it was the idea of adventure and starting something new. Maybe I just loved being called devious, but I found myself thinking that the South of France would still be waiting for me in a few months.
“I’m in,” I agreed.
“Fantastic.” Tom clapped his hands together. “I’ll get the contracts to you by this evening for review. We start shooting in about a month.”
His excitement became a virus because I found myself nodding along with him. A few months in America, a decent paycheck, and a break from all things Nolcovia, basically a paid vacation where I get to play emotional chess with simple-minded fools. Plus, I’d be back just in time for the wedding, but not early enough to have to do any work.
Bleeding fabulous.
Tom started to walk the other way, but I realized I’d forgotten an important question. “Wait, this actress, would I know of her?”
“No,” he replied quickly. “She was a huge hit about five years ago, but she burned out fast. I doubt her name carried all the way over here.”
I didn’t like loose ends and I wanted the name anyway. “Still, I’ll look her up and get some creative juices flowing.”
Tod nodded eagerly, obviously impressed by my initiative. “Of course. Her name is Skylark James. She was on a few shows, but she’s most famous for her movie Duke of —”
“ Yesterday ,” I finished for him. My stomach clenched as though he’d sucker punched me with the news.
“Oh, you have heard of her. That’s great news.” He shrugged and laughed lightly, unaware of my distress. “The first seasons of a new show, we gotta take whatever shark’s chum of a celebrity they toss to us.”
Internally, I battled the part of my soul that reared up when he talked about her that way. But my need to protect her had been squelched out years ago when she’d made her choice.
Not Skylark James. That was only her stage name.
Dempsey Crane. My mind brought her back to the forefront, but I refused to speak her name as I struggled not to be pulled back in time.
“I thought she was married.”
“Nah,” Tom still didn’t see my distress, “the guy toyed her along, but it never took. She’s been off the market and the stage for a while. She’s looking to get her feet wet again.”
‘I’m sorry, Bishop.’ Her parting words echoed through time. ‘Andrew is the safer choice.’
I clenched my hands to keep them from trembling. I refused to let her memory undo me again. She chose her life and it wasn’t with me. In reality, she was my origin story. Dempsey made me the carefree, unattached, and unrestricted man that I was today. To be honest, I owed her a debt of gratitude.
A puppet master, eh? Yes, I could do this job splendidly. She’d once played mind games with me, and I planned to return the favor.
“Sounds like an adventure.” I grinned at Tom, excited once more to get started on this new chapter in my life.
(Tom’s voice over a montage of stock videos of island living, mansions, and romantic couples)
This season on Forever Yours:
Skylark James rose to stardom at an early age. After gracing the cover of People and Vogue at only eighteen, she was on track to sweep the world with her stardom, but her flame went out. With a sudden disappearance from Hollywood, Skylark has built a life far from the glitz and glam, solitary and simple.
(Cut to clip of Skylark rocking on a porch and watching the sunset)
Skylark: “It’s just quiet out here.”
(Cut to clip of Skylark going inside and turning off the light)
Skylark: But it can get pretty lonely too.
(Cut to clip of stage lights flashing on)
Skylark: I miss the thrill of new romance. I miss meeting new people.
(Cut to Skylark stepping out on an empty stage)
Skylark: (Laughs to herself as though surprised) I miss being in love.
Tom: This season, Skylark is searching for love. What better place to find it than Isle D’amour, her own private island filled with beautiful sunsets, a villa of her dreams (flash pictures of men in swimsuits coming out of the water), and twelve of her ideal matches?
Skylark: I know it won’t be easy, anything worth having is hard work, but I’m looking for my fairytale ending. (Skylark shrugs) Is that too much to ask?
Tom: Challenges will try not only their physical stamina, but their emotional bonds. Love comes at a price, but eventually Skylark will declare to the winner …
(Logo for the show in gold lettering rises up over a sunset beach landscape)
Tom: Forever Yours .