A Love that Endures 3 Page 14

  Katy nodded. “I’m excited to see it.” And she was. The king and queen were generously gifting them a brand-new home in Southern Lorria, which should’ve felt like a dream come true for Katy. Instead, all she could focus on was how completely unexcited she was to live there as a married woman. The reminder of the enormous project that her parents had begun for her wedding just sent more little prickles of guilt through Katy.

  Hopefully this house doesn’t end up being just another waste of money.

  The queen cleared her throat and shifted her weight. She was obviously running out of talking points, though it seemed like she was dancing around a point that she hadn’t yet mustered the strength to broach. Which was strange, since it certainly wasn’t like her to be anything less than forward.

  “Mama?” Katy prompted her mother. A weird sensation in and of itself.

  Though she stood as regally as ever, the queen looked down and didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her words were delivered in a tone that Katy wasn’t used to hearing. She sounded . . . gentle and introspective.

  She sounded empathetic. And her words shocked Katy.

  “You know, I didn’t love your father when we married.”

  Katy’s eyes widened. Unsure how to respond, she simply stayed silent and waited for her mother to go on.

  “I thought he was lovely. Handsome. He was smart and playful, and he loved Lorria. We shared that: an uncommon patriotism. Uncommon even among other royals. I knew from the first time we met that your father would do anything for Lorria, no matter the cost. And I felt the same.”

  Katy tried to imagine her stodgy parents as teenagers meeting for the first time. She’d heard the story many times. Frederick had been nineteen, and Margery a tender sixteen years old. They wouldn’t marry for another few years, but they had known their fates from the moment that they met. Their parents had arranged the match, and there had been no room to argue.

  But Katy had never known it meant they didn’t love each other. Was this yet another thing that she’d just assumed about them, rather than actually hearing firsthand? It seemed so much of her experience with her parents where love was concerned had been like that.

  “It shames me some to say this, Katerina,” the queen went on, sounding uncertain about the confession, “but that lack of love lingered for some years. I always respected your father, and we respected our commitment to each other. We were friends, at least. But I wasn’t in love with him. Not when we consummated our marriage. Not when we began trying to have children. Not even when we grew close over the pain of infertility. Not until five years later. When you arrived.”

  Katy watched her mother intently. This was a forbidden history to her, the type of story that the queen would never usually allow to be told. And so she knew that it was important for her mother to tell it now. She was delivering a message. And Katy had a feeling that she already knew what it was.

  “When you were born, and when your father looked down at the product of our physical love, I fell in love with two new people at once. I fell in love with the tiny baby in my hands, and I also fell in love with the man who was beside me as I bore her. The man who hadn’t been in love with me either but had never complained or neglected his duties. No, your father was true to his younger self through and through: he made great sacrifices for Lorria, at personal expense. All so we could ensure that the reign would continue. With you.”

  Had it only been two days ago that Katy had been assured in her choice to follow her heart and leave Oliver? Now the guilt and confusion were as thick and heavy as they had ever been.

  Was leaving Oliver a selfish choice? Her own parents had put their needs and desires aside for the crown. Katy had been raised her whole life to one day do the same.

  But why was it so hard?

  “One day, Katerina,” the queen concluded, her usually haughty voice strained with emotion. “I hope you’ll feel that same love for Oliver. I know that day won’t be today. And I know it won’t be tomorrow. But I hope for you, and for Oliver, and for Lorria, that one day you are blessed with that love.”

  The queen stepped forward, and Katy rushed forth to embrace her. It wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. Not by a long shot. But it was raw truth and emotion from the woman she’d always wanted to connect with on that level, a woman who so rarely showed this side of herself to her only daughter.

  So, whether or not it helped her, whether or not it was right, she hugged her mother tightly, knowing she would remember the story.

  19

  David

  The rehearsal hadn’t taught him too much.

  David had a vague understanding of his assigned station and duties at the party. He was on bar duty for the evening, since his fake résumé had been tweaked to include “advanced mixer knowledge.”

  It was a bluff. After the rehearsal, he’d spent the night researching the most popular drinks and trying to memorize their ingredients. He’d also used some of Mia’s funds to purchase several bottles and pour spouts so that Mick, who had bartended for years, could show him how it was done. Mysteriously, when Mick left the room, the bottles did also.

  Luckily he hadn’t been required to perform at the rehearsal. Instead, they’d learned their stations, listened to some motivational speeches, then milled around and been introduced to one another.

  And all the while, David could barely believe that he was once again under the same roof as Katy. He couldn’t believe that the plan was coming to fruition.

  And he was terrified, both at the idea that it still might not work . . . and the thought of what he might find out if it did.

  But the rehearsal was over. The night before had passed. It was officially the day of the party. David’s hands shook as he buttoned his cufflinks, and so it took a few tries.

  What if she wants nothing to do with me? What if she won’t even listen to my side of the story?

  His hands fumbled with the shoelaces of his polished black Oxfords.

  What if she sees me and it causes her to panic? What if I frighten her? What if she’s been living in fear that someday I’ll find her and corner her? The criminal who lied to her and cheated on her . . .

  David stood and reached for his black bow tie. As his fingers struggled to tie it, he stopped and tried to relax. After all, this state of anxiety itself would make their plan more difficult. Before he could even get to Katy, he had to act the part. Breathe, David.

  It was a risky plan, no doubt about it. And it was going to take a miracle to pull it off. But David had to keep reminding himself of the phrase that was getting him through the misgivings and fear and urging him to continue.

  You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

  With that, David tightened his bow tie, threw his white tux jacket over his arm, and grabbed his phone and glasses off the credenza. Calder Rhines was going to have one last hurrah—and then, if all went well, it would be David Rosen’s time to shine.

  He could only hope that Katy wanted to listen to what he had to say.

  * * *

  “All right, Calder. Why don’t we divvy up the menu so we don’t have to keep walking over each other?”

  The older man that David had been assigned to work with, a veteran bartender named Rhys, was polite, personable, and apparently full of great catering tips and tricks. David hoped he could absorb all of them just by standing next to him.

  “Sounds like a good idea,” he replied. But his focus couldn’t linger on the man or on the setup of their small bar in one of the corners of a grand ballroom. Instead, he was watching the main entrance intently. Waiting for the party to begin and the honored guests to arrive.

  “I’ll handle the top three and you take the bottom two.”

  The old man continued to set up their bar, laying out a few assorted garnishes and fresh juices. Keeping his eyes on the main entrance, David tried to assist. He grabbed several of the fancy shakers, jiggers, muddlers, mixing spoons, and strainers and set them out on the tableclot
h. But between looking at the door and handling the stainless-steel accessories, David’s fumbling caused some side-eyed glances from his bar partner.

  “Hey, Calder. Careful with those tins. Don’t want to dent one.”

  David nodded.

  “You seem distracted,” the old man went on. It wasn’t a complaint, more of an observation, perhaps a segue into polite conversation.

  “Just curious, is all. About the guests.” David didn’t feel like lying any more than he had to, but he also didn’t want to reveal too much.

  “You probably mean about the princess, don’t you?” The old man winked and smiled. “She is quite the beauty. But don’t get too excited about interacting with her, son. We got one of the small bars at the back. Doubt she’ll even look our way.”

  It was true. David and Rhys were just about as close to opposite as they could get from the elevated table where the honored guests would be served. Larger, more intricate bars were set up near the front of the large room; the two of them would be serving to the guests in the back.

  Which was both good and bad. It was helpful in that David would be far away from anyone who could recognize him, but he’d also have to be creative in getting Katy alone. He was glad that Mia was helping with that part.

  “Don’t believe we’ll have any of the better-known guests back here. They usually reserve this space for the riffraff.” Rhys laughed. “People like cousins twice removed and ambassadors of less-powerful countries. Extended family.”

  David nodded, making a sound of agreement, and looked back toward the entrance. So far, there were no guests. The room was only full of event planners, palace staff, and the caterers. There would be a formal sit-down dinner, but long cloth-draped tables on either end of the room also held platters of hors d'oeuvres and finger foods. The woman in charge of it all, a shrill but polite woman named Gertie, was running from station to station to make sure everything was perfect.

  Guests would stream in at any moment now. Princess Katerina de Courtes among them.

  “Aprons, gentlemen?” Gertie asked anxiously as she approached. Since she had now reached the far end of the room, David surmised that the doors were about to open.

  “That’s right. Apologies, ma’am.” Rhys fumbled around under the table setup and came back up with two long black aprons. “We’ll get these on right away.”

  “All right, good. Know your drinks? Have any questions before we begin?”

  “We’re all set, ma’am. Have our duties divided and everything,” Rhys replied with a smile.

  David smiled and nodded along, but he didn’t want to say too much to anyone. He wasn’t sure how recognizable he was. Would his voice trigger anyone’s memory? Probably not, but best not to risk it.

  In this case, it looked like that wasn’t going to be an issue. “All right. I guess that’s it, then,” Gertie replied, her eyes already sliding away from the two bartenders, probably toward all the other details she was trying to assess. “We’re all set.”

  David’s heart leapt into his throat as he watched what happened next. Gertie raised her hand up to two butlers by the front entrance. Beside them, two caterers holding trays of champagne flutes stood at rapt attention, prepared to hand out celebratory libations.

  As David watched, the butlers walked in tandem to the grand doorway that led into the ballroom and each grabbed a door handle. With a mighty pull, the doors sprang open. Revelers in their best clothes streamed in. Men strutted their tuxes or traditional royal clothing, with tasseled shoulders and sashes. Women floated in wearing flowing gowns and tiaras, dripping with precious gems and sparkling diamonds. Some held clutches or glasses in delicate hands. Others took the offered drinks as they walked through.

  “Have to be on our top game tonight, Calder,” Rhys whispered. “This room now holds most of the most influential people in the world.”

  David inhaled sharply at the thought, nodding his agreement. Rhys was right. Kings and queens were rubbing elbows here. Presidents and prime ministers would be eating side by side. Billionaires, tycoons, and tech titans were entering the ballroom.

  But all of these influencers mattered so little to him . . . Because there was no sign of Katy yet.

  Of the crowd, half stopped at the front of the room and began looking for their reserved seats while the other half walked to the back of the room for their tables. As soon as a few guests noticed the small back bar, Rhys and David had to begin their work.

  “A beer, please. Something German,” the first customer said in an Italian accent.

  David bent down to retrieve a dark bottle from the fridges under the table and brought it up to eyelevel. He took a deep breath, opened the bottle, placed a tall specialty glass over it, and then flipped the beer over completely. As the beer poured out into a frothy mess, David deftly pulled the base of the bottle up to keep the lip just beneath the layer of foam. Slowly but surely, the beer cleared to reveal a perfect pour. David removed the bottle and passed the glass to the Italian.

  “Enjoy, sir.”

  The Italian thanked David and took his prize back to his table.

  “That was a nice pour, Calder,” Rhys complimented him when they were alone. “I know a veteran when I see one.”

  David wasn’t sure if that reassurance made him less nervous or more. Mick just taught me that less than twelve hours ago. Let’s hope I stay that lucky all night.

  A steady stream of work kept David busy for the next fifteen or twenty minutes. He tried to look up and watch the door as often as he could, but the complicated drinks required David’s full attention. His mind filled up with a nervous echo of memorized recipes and tricks, and he was sweating and flustered within five minutes. I don’t remember economics even being this complicated. Luckily, the rushes seemed to come in waves, Rhys was infallible beside him, and quickly the long line dwindled as the sparkling guests sipped on their drinks and found their seats.

  David wiped his hands on a clean bar towel.

  “We’ll probably get another rush before the first course. Then not until after dinner and announcements.” Rhys was rinsing his hands in a bowl of water beneath the table. “So we have a little time to breathe now.”

  David was going to ask him about breaks in reply when the string music stopped. He looked up, his heart seeming to know what that meant before his mind did.

  Trumpeters stood and began to blow into their horns, playing a stately song that was obviously an announcement for the gathered guests.

  Someone important was arriving.

  The doors, which had been closed after the guests entered, were suddenly throw open again to reveal a line of honorees. David knew the first face in that line immediately.

  Cassie. She strolled in to the sound of the trumpets, followed by the blond bodybuilder David had bumped into before, and waved at the crowd. Had she always looked so haughty and sinister, like she deserved every smile and wave, yet was keeping smug secrets from the crowd? Or was it just David’s suspicions about her coloring his vision?

  Cassie took a seat at the far end of the elevated table at the front of the room. Behind her, a younger man with tousled reddish hair walked in. David recognized him from the television as the duke’s younger brother. Then, after him, the king and queen of Lorria.

  David hadn’t seen the king and queen since the fateful trip to Lorria all those years ago. But he had thought of them often, almost obsessively, over the miserable days and sleepless nights since. It was a confusing feeling to see them in person again. He wanted revenge. He wanted justice. But he didn’t want to cause the woman he loved more pain, to continue to tear her family apart. Were these elegant, highly respected people moving through the doorway, smiling and waving regally, truly capable of such deceit and subterfuge? There was really no other choice. The thought chilled him.

  The prince and princess, Oliver’s parents, entered next. They looked nice enough, like Oliver himself. But David was still hoping that this celebration would end up being premature.
He had to know what Katy really felt.

  And then, last of all . . . Katy entered the room.

  She wore a long blue gown, cut to reveal only a glimpse of her décolletage above the neckline. Even from across the room, David could see that a large diamond hung at the base of her neck. Her naturally blonde hair was swept into an elegant updo, leaving only a few wisps to hang down and frame her gorgeous face.

  She was stunning, more beautiful even than he remembered, and for a moment David forgot to breathe. All the love he had tried to forget rushed over him like an ocean wave as he watched her walk. He tried his best to ignore the man walking beside her, clutching her hand. It was too painful to see.

  “A gimlet, please.” In a posh Spanish accent.

  David came back to reality to see Mia Cantor standing in front of him.

  “Um,” David sputtered briefly, trying to collect himself. “Right away, ma’am.”

  As he busied himself with the lime for her drink, Mia leaned forward and whispered something to him, her voice barely audible.

  “After dinner. Watch for my cue. Be ready.”

  20

  Katy

  “You’re not eating,” Oliver pointed out.

  Katy put her fork down, no longer needing to keep up the charade. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Is this because of what we talked about?”

  Katy looked over at her immaculately dressed fiancé from her seat beside him at the table, which spread out before them, set with sparkling china and fancy glasses and tiny, elegant food. The chairs on either side of them were spread out far enough, and their voices were low enough, that she knew she didn’t have to worry about being overheard. Still, it felt like the wrong time to have this conversation.

  The worst time, maybe. Their own engagement party, for crying out loud!

  “I’m just not very hungry, Oliver.”