A Love that Endures 3 Page 12

  David nodded slowly, but Mia’s words turned his stomach with a new thought. Hired. What if Cassie had her own plans for the job opening at the palace? What if . . .

  As if on cue, David’s phone rang in his hand. He anxiously looked at it to see a familiar number.

  The palace.

  He answered. “Yes, hello.” Around him, he could almost feel the silence as Mia, Giles, Rufus, and everyone around the barrel subconsciously leaned toward him in anticipation.

  “Mr. Rhines, this is Martha Greer.”

  David immediately noticed the lack of bubbly mirth in her voice.

  “I was calling to inform you that the position you interviewed for was filled by another applicant. A shame, really. You were my first pick. But,” Martha said, “in the end it went to a friend of the crown. I hope this won’t discourage you from applying with us again in the future.”

  David politely replied, thanking Martha for the information and her time, and then ended the call. He looked back up to see crestfallen faces around him. His own face probably looked the same, if not worse.

  It was obvious that the plan had failed.

  “Cassie must’ve filled the role with someone,” David said softly, looking down at the phone in his hand. He couldn’t believe it. He had been so close to getting the palace job. So close to being in Katy’s vicinity again. So close to having the chance to tell her the truth.

  “That’s great,” Rufus said bitterly. “She got me fired and replaced. Real great.”

  Giles took a long swig of his drink, sending a wordless message.

  Only Mick seemed relatively unperturbed. “Well, that’s a’right. We just find a new angle. It ain’t over yet.”

  “This was our best chance,” Mia said. She didn’t sound hopeful. “Perhaps we could try to ambush her somewhere in public, or . . .”

  “No,” David interrupted firmly. “No ambushing. No cornering her. I won’t disrespect her like that. She should have the chance to leave at any point.”

  “Lad. You got to think more like a con and less like a gentleman sometimes,” Mick offered.

  “No,” Mia said, only slightly disappointedly, “he’s right.” She looked back at David. “An ambush won’t work. But without that palace job, well, I’m not sure how to proceed, Señor.”

  David sighed, suddenly feeling very silly in his expensive suit and glasses. It hadn’t been enough. And he didn’t see any more options than Mia did.

  What now?

  16

  Katy

  “Tried any of your gifts yet?” Cassie asked Katy coyly from her seat across the dining room table.

  Beside Katy, Oliver looked confused. “What gifts?”

  Katy shot her cousin a sharp glare.

  “Engagement gifts,” Katy clarified uncomfortably. “From Cassie.” There was no way she was about to explain to Oliver exactly what type of gifts she had received from Cassie, no matter how much her cousin liked to push boundaries.

  Cassie grinned playfully, and Katy rolled her eyes.

  “Ah,” Oliver replied, as though everything had been cleared up. “Well, I’m sure we’ll be able to plug in the slow cooker or use the French press when we get to Esserby.” He returned to his dinner while Katy attempted to will the embarrassed rush of color out of her cheeks and ignore the amused gleam in Cassie’s eyes.

  “What about your wedding, Cassie?” Oliver continued. “Have all the planning completed?”

  Her cousin was pushing bits of au gratin potatoes and peas around her plate. She looked up, this time throwing Katy a genuinely appreciative grin. “Yes, Oliver, I have—thanks to your wonderful fiancé. I already got my dress fitted, and Katy took the time to help me pick out the floral arrangements today.”

  Katy relented, smiling at her cousin. They’d had a lot of fun that afternoon, picking out the perfect bouquet and centerpieces. Even if Cassie could be a bit too forward for Katy’s tastes, she was otherwise a joy to spend time with. And their time in the flower shop had been a ray of sunshine during an otherwise tumultuous few days. It was a lot more fun planning for a wedding that the bride was actually excited about attending.

  “I’m hoping there won’t be too many flowers. Don’t want the reception to be overly . . . girly,” Boris added gruffly without looking up from his plate.

  Under the table, Oliver tapped Katy’s foot, signifying his continued dislike of Cassie’s fiancé. Katy knew the feeling all too well. She tapped back.

  “Just a small boutonniere for you, honey,” Cassie replied good-naturedly.

  Katy looked back at her own dinner. She still couldn’t quite understand what it was that attracted Cassie to her brutish fiancé, other than his obvious good looks. But was Cassie really so shallow when it came to men? Sure, her exes had always had a bit more brawn than brain. But this was a fiancé, for crying out loud! Didn’t Cassie want someone with a little more, well . . . tact?

  “So, the king and queen should arrive in the morning, correct? That’s exciting,” Cassie went on.

  Katy looked back up from her plate, reminded of her own situation. Behind her, a servant was waiting on her toes to refill any water glasses that went less than half full. It was making Katy anxious.

  “Yes, they’re flying in early. I’m looking forward to seeing them.” It probably sounded too cliché and rehearsed, but Katy could barely help it. In reality, she wasn’t sure how she felt about being faced with the king and queen’s unique brand of passive aggressiveness, especially in a situation that already felt like it was hanging by a thread.

  But, of course, an engagement was a time to celebrate. And all of Katy and Oliver’s extended family and well-wishers were currently en route to commemorate the occasion.

  Regardless of Katy’s hidden feelings on the matter.

  “What about your parents?” she asked Cassie in return.

  “I assume they’ll be here sometime before my wedding.” Her cousin continued to push uneaten food around her plate.

  Katy felt her heart go out to Cassie, turning it away from her own troubles. Her cousin’s parents had never been very present in her life, and it didn’t look like that was currently improving in any way.

  “Don’t worry, Cass. They won’t miss the wedding,” Boris assured his fiancée. “They’re paying for most of it, after all. Would be a waste of money not to show up.”

  As much tact as a bull in a china shop.

  Katy looked back down at her plate. All of their shared dinners thus far had been similarly awkward. She just didn’t care for Boris, and she couldn’t understand Cassie’s decision. Then again . . . she still didn’t understand her own decision to agree to marry Oliver.

  Especially since a different man had been weighing heavily on her mind recently.

  Cassie took a sip from her water glass, and the servant rushed forward to refill it. The young woman seemed on edge that evening, like she was fearful. Her hands shook as she poured, and a few drops of cold water spilled over and dampened the tablecloth.

  Cassie looked down wordlessly at the spill.

  “Beg your pardon, madam. I’m very sorry,” the woman stammered. She pulled a white cloth napkin from her apron pocket and began to dab at the small spill. All the while, Cassie stared down at it, expressionless.

  It was strange to watch. The woman seemed positively terrified of Cassie. Katy looked on, puzzled. Why would anyone be terrified of Cassie? Perhaps she was just terrified of making mistakes on the job. Or maybe it was simple social anxiety.

  “It’s quite all right.” Katy attempted to soothe the woman.

  But Cassie didn’t appear to share the sentiment, and the server continued to work on drying the mess, her eyes slightly panicky and her motions shaky. Katy was relieved when the work appeared to be done and the woman slunk away. Not that she was upset with the palace employee; her frenzied state was just setting Katy on edge.

  Cassie didn’t speak again until the woman had resumed her place behind the table.

  �
�Anyway,” she started casually, “I was hoping to borrow your lovely fiancée again this evening, Oliver. Just for a bit more quality time before all of your guests arrive.”

  Oliver dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “All right. Just don’t forget that I like my quality time, too.” He smiled playfully.

  “Oh, you’ll get plenty of it in just over a week, when you steal my Katy away to Esserby.” Cassie winked at her cousin, but Katy didn’t return a smile. Neither the thought of moving to Esserby nor the alternative of having a messy breakup right after the party appealed much to her at the moment. And, like it or not, she was realizing that she was going to have to choose soon enough.

  Spending more time with Cassie would be a pleasant reprieve.

  “Besides,” her cousin went on, after taking another sip of water. “It’ll give you and Boris some more male bonding time, too.”

  Boris looked across the table at Oliver and shrugged.

  * * *

  “They’re really good quality wigs. And I could do your makeup, even! I swear, no one would recognize you.”

  But Katy was already out of her day clothes and in her silky pajamas. She slipped a plush robe on and looked at her cousin, who was sitting on her bed. “I’m sure it’d be fun, Cass. But I’m tired. I thought maybe we could do face masks instead. Watch a movie in bed or something.”

  Katy did have a brand-new face mask that she’d been excited to try. And it had always been a pastime that the two of them had enjoyed together.

  Cassie sighed in an exaggerated way and threw herself back on Katy’s bed. “Ugh, what was the point in bringing disguises if you don’t want to go out dancing with me? London has awesome nightlife!”

  Katy tied the belt of her robe. “Don’t let me hold you back if you and Boris want to go out tonight. But I just . . .” Katy trailed off, wondering how to phrase what she wanted to say. “If I was recognized, it’d be such an ordeal. I just don’t want any more publicity than I’m already getting right now, you know?”

  Cassie pushed herself up on her forearms and looked sympathetically at Katy. “I know. That’s okay. A face mask sounds good, too. I guess I’m just trying to have all the fun I can before I’m taken off the market.”

  “We’ll still see each other often, though, right? I mean, just because you’re getting married doesn’t mean we don’t get to have fun. And I’m moving back to Lorria . . . um . . . soon.”

  With or without Oliver. With or without a wedding.

  Cassie chewed on her bottom lip. “Actually, there was something I needed to tell you about that.” She sat up.

  Katy moved forward to sit next to her cousin on the spacious bed. Something about Cassie’s tone was making her anxious. “Tell me about what?”

  Cassie looked down. “Boris and I aren’t going back to Lorria. We’re going to move to Russia after the wedding, to be by his parents.”

  Katy could feel her heart physically breaking in her chest. Cassie was her best friend. Her confidant. Her sister, practically. And she was leaving?

  “I mean, of course we’ll still visit and stuff. We just won’t be quite so close. Distance-wise, that is.” Cassie looked nervously at Katy, awaiting her response.

  Katy nodded slowly. “Of course. Yeah, I understand. I’ll just . . . miss you, is all.”

  In truth, the thought made a till-death-do-us-part, loveless marriage with sweet, humorless Oliver, visiting his sweet, humorless parents, sound even less appealing.

  Cassie reached over and squeezed her hand. “I knew you’d understand. And you’re always welcome to visit us, you know that.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

  Cassie smiled. “Now, how about that face mask?”

  The two of them spent two hours in their goopy, green masks, watching a romantic comedy in bed. They laughed and talked about old memories and future wishes. Cassie was hoping to have kids within five years. Katy mostly sidestepped the talk about her own future family, but she did mention hoping to have a rose garden someday. After the movie, the tone briefly turned somber while they talked about how much they’d miss one another. Tears were shed and hugs were shared. Late into the night, they finally said their goodnights and parted ways.

  Katy closed her door and turned back to her bed feeling emotionally fulfilled and yet also exhausted. She was fully prepared to slip into bed and immediately fall asleep—let all of this go, even if just for eight hours.

  But the sleep didn’t come.

  Instead, she found herself scrolling through her phone, returning to Zeke’s message. And Cerise’s phone number.

  It was almost midnight in London, but it was only around seven p.m. in Boston. Cerise would probably be having dinner or maybe enjoying a movie date. Katy tried to picture David’s short, curly-haired, bespectacled cousin. It had been five whole years since she’d seen her. Cerise had almost certainly graduated from Cornell with her history degree by now. Perhaps she’d be in grad school or have found a related job. Maybe she was in a long-term relationship now. Maybe she was married.

  Katy’s heart clenched when she remembered Cerise’s frail, cancer-embattled mother. Perhaps Mary was still doing well. Perhaps not.

  Katy’s fingers worked to save the number in her contacts. Cerise Best.

  But what now? Did Katy call her? Text her? Leave her alone?

  She was torn. She wanted to speak to someone who knew David well and had spoken to him more recently than Zeke had. She wanted to know what David had told others about the experience, because she’d never been able to ask him herself. She wanted to find that part of herself that was willing and able to examine hard truths.

  But mostly, she just wanted to talk about David with someone who could commiserate—someone who wouldn’t immediately tell her that she was crazy for bringing him up after all this time, that she should let go and forget about it. And . . . someone who might know more about David’s present whereabouts. Zeke obviously hadn’t known. And even though he’d said Cerise and Joseph hadn’t talked to David recently either, maybe they’d have a better idea about where he would have gone.

  And, just maybe, that meant Katy would be able to locate him and ask him face-to-face why he had done what he did. The hope had been growing in her ever since Zeke’s phone call had opened that painful floodgate of memories. After all this time, she had to know. What was David’s side of the story? Could he really have done all of the things he’d been put in prison for?

  What was his excuse for cutting her off right when she needed him most?

  And so, five minutes after midnight in her giant bed in London’s royal palace, Katy took a deep breath and texted Cerise’s number.

  “Hi, Cerise. This is Katerina de Courtes. I hope you don’t mind, but I got your number from Zeke. Do you think we could talk about some things soon? If not, I’ll understand. Hope you’re well.”

  She hit send before she could change her mind.

  17

  David

  “Are you sure, David? I don’t want to impose.”

  Giles looked distinctly out of place in the expensively furnished hotel room at the Wych Elm. His long, dirty trench coat and his grime-coated hands and face stood out against the polished wooden floors and the clean white linens on the bed.

  “Giles, don’t worry about that. Really.” David was buttoning up one of his new, freshly pressed shirts after a hot shower. His dark hair, cropped shorter, now dried markedly faster than when it had hung close to his shoulders. But the trendy more-on-top cut still left a little wave of damp curls.

  The older man didn’t move or respond, so David stopped dressing and turned to him. “Kind of defeats the purpose of having a nice shower and toiletries if we don’t take advantage of them. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I didn’t pay for this room either.”

  Disarmed, Giles managed a smile. “Guess you’re right. But paid out of your pocket or not, you were kind enough to offer it up to people who don’t deserve it. Excuse my reticence. It’s just been a long ti
me since I’ve been in a place like this.”

  David shook his head. “Can’t think of anyone more deserving, actually.”

  Giles nodded in quiet appreciation, his face showing a mix of confusion and gratitude, and then slowly headed to the bathroom to enjoy a shower. When the bathroom door was closed behind him, David walked to the vanity and mussed his hair, feeling a bit reflective.

  It hadn’t felt right to return to his expensive hotel room by himself the night before. Not only had David still been reeling from the bad news of the job rejection, he was also feeling like he had wasted Mia Cantor’s money. What was the point of the expensive suit and the salon styling if it hadn’t gotten them any further along in their plan? And what were they supposed to do now? Roll over and let Cassie and the king and queen win?

  Obviously not. Now that David knew he had a chance, any chance, to put things right, he felt a blazing need to make it happen at all costs. He hadn’t felt this driven since his early years at Harvard.

  But how to continue?

  Once Mia had left the homeless camp, promising to brainstorm new ideas but sounding much less hopeful, David had been faced with another dilemma. Leave his less-fortunate friends while he returned to the unearned luxury of a bed and a private bathroom? Or dirty his clothes and eschew Mia’s generosity in favor of his morals?

  Ultimately, he’d decided on a compromise: sharing his momentary wealth. But he couldn’t very well haul half a dozen hobos into one of London’s most posh hotels without drawing unwanted attention to himself and his friends, so David had had to offer the room up to one at a time.

  And Giles was the obvious first choice.

  David listened as the shower sputtered on in the other room. He owed Giles so much more than just a shower and a place to sleep for a night (especially since, despite David’s insistence on the bed, Giles had taken the couch). Even though the plan had failed, Giles was one of the biggest reasons that it had almost succeeded. And that meant a great deal to David.