Gamble on Engagement (9 page)

I was positively exhausted after my marathon
of writing, and no matter how much I told myself I had to start
writing the book I was supposed to be writing and stop wishing some
ridiculous scenario into existence, I just couldn’t stop my hands
from typing and my brain from playing it all out.

And then, after several hours, I was too
exhausted to type another word.

I grabbed my library books, figuring at
least I could get a little biography education, and made a quick
detour to the castle library to grab a nice, big classic
hardcover—Shakespeare—that would cover my true reading, and headed
out to the pool area.

Miraculously, it was as deserted as it had
been before Miranda had so rudely messed up my R & R time.

It really was one of the most peaceful
places ever. The trickling waterfall drowned out the noises of the
lawnmowers and tillers and whatever else was whirring around out
there, and it even helped all the possible fake Prince stories that
just wouldn’t stay away, even after I’d got a lot of it down. It
really was too bad that the book was an autobiography, and that all
the information inside it had to actually be true. There was no way
the real story was going to amount to half as scandalous and
interesting than the scenes in my head.

But, I had to concentrate on the real
story.

The truth.

Right?

I cracked open the
Autobiographies for
Dummies
book and began read.

Approximately twelve seconds later, my cell
started to ring.

I sighed and carefully set down my ‘book
inside a book’ so that the real reading material didn’t show, and
dug my phone out of my bag.

Dear God, it was my mother.

My mind raced, trying to figure out what in
the world she might be calling about. Thank goodness I hadn’t told
her I was away. She’d have a field day with that one.

“Hi Mom,” I said, as cheerily as humanly
possible under the circumstances.

Which, I mean, given the fact that I was
lounging by the pool reading should have been quite cheery, but it
was my mother, after all.

“Are you in Britain?” she practically
screamed.

How does she know
everything?

“A hello might be nice,” I said, trying not
to let her bring down my mood now that I’d finally gotten back to
something other than self-loathing after my little disaster with
Miranda.

“Are. You. In. Britain?”

“Um… maybe.”

“Josephine McMaster, you tell me this
instant how you got to Britain!”

I sighed. “I’m a big girl Mom, I am quite
capable of getting to London.”

“You know very well what I mean. How can you
afford
to go to Britain?”

I could tell she was losing patience. Not
that she had much to lose in the first place.

“I’m working, Mom.”

“Working?” She sounded as though she didn’t
know the meaning of the word. I mean, my mother was far from lazy,
but she had never held down a typical job.

“Yes mother, you provide a product or
service, and in return you receive a paycheck. It’s all very
modern, I know.” I could not keep the sarcasm from my voice.

Which was probably my downfall.

“Oh for Pete’s sake! You don’t have to treat
me like I’m stupid. How on Earth did you land a job in London?”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of
confidence.”

Now it was her turn to sigh. “You know what
I mean. How did you find something so quickly? And overseas?” I was
probably wrong, but I thought I almost caught a whiff of pride in
her voice.

“I applied with an agency that does these
sorts of placements. It’s a writing job. Turns out I had some
unique qualifications.”

Good lord, why did I say
that
?!

“Oh my, I can only imagine what those might
be,” my mother said, with a sniff.

At least she didn’t come right out and ask.
I wasn’t really all that gung ho to bring up the whole paparazzi
catastrophe all over again. Goodness knows, my mother would take
decades to forget “her” humiliation.

“So, thanks for the call Mom, but really,
you don’t have to worry so much about me.”

“Well… what about Jake?”

“What about him?”

“I just can’t believe you would throw away a
relationship like that. It could have been your last opportunity to
find a man with substance.”

“Mother!” I should have known this would all
be about her status as the potential mother in law of an elite
member of society. “Everything is just fine with me and Jake. Not
that it’s any of your business, but he’s coming over here to visit
soon.”

“Well,” she said, adding one more level of
snoot to her voice, “that is a relief.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Well, thanks for calling Mom. I really am very busy though, I
really gotta run!”

I hung up before she got the chance to
object.

Honestly, it’s like she took classes in how
to push my buttons or something.

I turned off the ringer and settled back for
some reading, and hopefully some brainstorming of the blasted book
I was supposed to write.

The how-to book was informative and all, but
it just looked so… rigid in the way that it said you should write
the autobiography. It suggested a chronological format, which I
supposed made sense, but honestly, I’d been hoping to find
something a bit more… creative.

~ 8 ~

Time passed quickly at the castle, there was
so much to see and do. Leo took me riding a few times and I was
shocked at how hard it was. People make it look so easy in the
movies, but honestly, I felt like I was being slowly jolted to
death, it was so bumpy must of the time. But then again, he was
gone a lot. A weekend here, a day or two there, and the book was
just not taking shape.

I mean, there were lots of ideas in my head,
but none of them seemed right for the book. I did, however, work
quite a bit on my Charming Prince slash decadent Spanish mistress
project. I mean, at least it gave me something to do while Leo kept
pretty much most of himself hidden from me.

I mean, at least I hoped he was keeping it
hidden and as I was beginning to suspect, there just might not
really be anything all that interesting in his past to even write
about.

But I couldn’t think like that.

There had to be something scandalous, or
exciting, or at least a little… fun in his life, right?

Worse, it seemed like a year since I’d seen
Jake, even though it had only been six weeks and we talked almost
every day. I mean, can a person even become that dependant on
someone that quickly? But I was beginning to feel like I couldn’t
quite breathe right without him.

And tonight, I was finally going to see him
again.

If I could find a ride into London, that
is.

Ugh, why was it that I sometimes felt like a
prisoner in the castle, and that I felt like I was asking my dad
for the keys to the family station wagon every time I needed a ride
somewhere?

Actually, that might not be a bad idea.
Instead of putting someone out and making them drive me all around,
why not just borrow one of the cars and drive on in myself? I mean,
I didn’t have a clue where I was going in London, but surely the
Prince would have a car with GPS, right? Sure, I hadn’t really
driven all that much since I’d moved to the city years ago, but it
was like riding a bike, right? Ahem, not that I had the greatest
track record with bikes or anything, but you know what I mean. Oh
yeah, and there was that whole driving on the other side of the
road issue, but seriously, how hard could that be? I mean, the
steering wheel was on the other side of the car too, so I was sure
it would just be like driving in a mirror or something.

Easy peasy.

But first things first. I had to look good
for my man. He was around beautiful (and highly made up) women all
day long while he was shooting. I had to at least make an
effort.

So an all day event it was, and I had to
say, it was starting to finally all come together. I smelled
magnificent from the Vanilla and Lemon Zeal aromatherapy concoction
I’d created, which maybe seems a bit weird, but I smelled a bit
like a Lemon Meringue Pie. Delicious.

I was feeling pretty good, finally getting a
chance to wear the last dress that I’d purchased back home at the
special store Mattie had shown me to buy my stuff for all the
wedding events. Luckily for me, I ended up with one extra, and this
was the perfect occasion to wear it.

The vibrant teal made my eyes sparkle like a
vixen, and the skirt was the exact right length to be sexy, yet not
too scandalous. It gave me kind of a hot librarian look, which I
thought just might be the perfect thing to show up in when you
haven’t seen your boyfriend for a month. Naughty, yet nice.

The only thing missing was a sexy pair of
studious glasses, but sadly, my vision was twenty-twenty.

I wanted nothing more than to spend a nice
quiet night alone with Jake—God knows it had been a while since
we’d had any “quality” time together, if you know what I mean—but
secretly, I sort of hoped we’d get a chance to go out in public,
just for a little while. That way, the paparazzi could get a
picture of us together and shut the hell up about us breaking
up.

Plus I was looking rather good, so it would
be a great time for a snap or two.

I shimmied out of the house in my stilettos,
and while the skirt looked rather hot as fitted as it was, it
wasn’t the easiest thing to walk in. But I had to find some
transportation.

Thankfully, I had the good fortune to avoid
Miranda completely. Of course that might have had more to do with
the fact that I’d been like a stealthy ninja (well, as stealthy as
a ninja can be in stilettos) peeking down every hallway before
going down it. My God that woman had a knack of lurking around the
exact corners you had to pass to get to your destination.

“You look lovely this evening, Miss
McMaster,” Lance said, with a little tip of his jaunty, very
English gentleman looking hat.

“Hey Lance,” I said, still a little
uncomfortable with the formality around the castle. “Is there a car
that Leo lets his guests drive while they’re staying here?”

“Oh,” he said, looking more than a little
surprised. “I’m sure we can find somebody to drive you wherever you
need to go.”

I smiled, trying to look grateful, yet at
the same time trying to show that I was a big girl and could find
my way to London. It was, after all, a straight shot to the city,
without so much as a turn to possibly get lost. “Thank you,” I
said. “But I think I’d really like to head in on my own this time.
Is there something with GPS so I can find my way?” I smiled my most
confident smile, making sure to temper it with a bit of humility to
show I was appreciative of everything he’d done for me, but just
really wanted to strike out on my own.

And I totally must be a better actress than
I thought, because I think it all came shining through. I mean, at
least he didn’t laugh at me, plus he handed me the keys to a
lovely, sensible sedan. Which I was kind of happy about because,
while it may not be as cute as the sky blue mini, it came equipped
with a GPS.

Never were there three more beautiful
letters put together.

And I only drove on the wrong side of the
road for a few miles. You wouldn’t believe how quickly a person
remembers about the other side of the road thing once a huge truck
is barreling toward you at an alarming rate.

Plus it did give me a good opportunity to
test the steering out, which is always important, and I really
couldn’t have been more impressed. Not to mention I stayed cool as
a cucumber, even as the truck blew its freighter ship sounding
horn. I only had to pull over to the side of the road—the wrong
side, at least for me—for about fifteen minutes before I stopped
shaking long enough to be on my way.

Needless to say, the estimated trip time
from the GPS was a tad longer than first expected.

Driving in the city actually wasn’t as bad
as I thought, and that had been the part I was most scared about.
But the GPS guided me turn for turn and I’d had the entire way in
to figure out the whole which side of the road do I drive on
thing.

When I made it to the hotel, the car and I
were both unharmed and in one piece. Thankfully Jake picked a hotel
close to the road I had to drive in on, so there was actually very
little city driving involved. And the hotel was amazing too,
although, I suppose what else was I to expect from Jake?

My adrenaline kicked in as I applied a fresh
coat of lipstick, the excitement of finally seeing Jake almost too
much.

I walked into the hotel lobby and…

… there he was. His hair was a little
longer, he’d had to try to grow it out for the movie he was
filming, but otherwise he looked completely, most perfectly, the
same.

He was leaning on the back of a dark leather
couch, legs crossed casually at his ankles, holding a huge bouquet
of white peonies in one hand and pushing off the couch with the
other.

How on earth did I end up dating a movie
star again? I wondered to myself, my life like a surreal dream.
Jake smiled his slightly crooked smile, looking only at me.

I smiled and sighed.

Like audibly sighed like a lovesick
schoolgirl. God, I was such a dork. I tried not to cringe, and
somehow kept my smile in place as he made his way toward me. It was
all I could do not to run and jump into his arms as if we were in
the final scene of a movie where the couple finally gets to be
together again after being apart for an eternity. Or, you know,
overcoming some big disastrous event like an alien invasion or
whatever.

But somehow I stayed in place, waiting for
him to get to me. My insides were shaking, I was so giddy to see
him, and I hoped he couldn’t feel it when he wrapped his arms
around me in a giant bear hug.