The Christmas Princess (3 page)

“Will you be okay, Miss April?

“You can stop calling me that now. It’s just April. And I’ll be fine. Thank you for asking, Barton. Thank you for everything.”

He inclined his head. “Goodbye, April.”

When the door closed with her inside, the taxi driver slued around in the seat. “Where to?”

Somewhere she could think, without admitting how wrong she’d been. Somewhere she could feel, without being exposed. Somewhere she could be loved, without having to explain.

“Where’s she going with all that stuff?” Derek Kenton asked.

Hunter Pierce didn’t answer. Kenton was a rookie asking a rookie question. If they knew where subjects were going there’d be no need for surveillance.

Derek had been on day-time surveillance of April — the subject — for more than a week. Sharon had instructed Hunter to take the lead starting Tuesday evening. He’d picked up the subject at the Willard Hotel and had followed her here to the Warrington estate.

Wednesday and today, she left at eight a.m., dropped by a driver at the nearest Metro station, then commuted to her office in D.C. Returned by the same route.

Wednesday night she hadn’t left. Tonight was different.

He contacted Sharon and reported April Gareaux’s departure by taxi with luggage.

“Interesting,” she said. She didn’t ask if they were following. She knew they were. “I might start hoping she’s changed her mind about our proposal, except she hasn’t contacted you. Let me know where she goes.”

For years April had volunteered twice a week at the Fairlington, Virginia animal shelter, visiting with the not-yet-adopted dogs and — more difficult — the unadoptable. That ended when she’d moved in with Reese, or rather, with Mrs. Warrington.

So that’s where she went to be loved without having to explain.

But she’d certainly had no intention of adopting a dog that day of all days.

Sitting on the floor, petting two dogs at once and with a third curled up inside the curve of her bent knee, she’d reached into her pocket for a bag of treats and felt the business card.

“Well, at least somebody thinks I’m a princess,” she muttered dryly, causing Dragon to cock his head at her.

Thank God she hadn’t signed a government form saying she wouldn’t think about Hunter Pierce’s bizarre proposal. They would have hauled her off to jail a hundred times.

What she needed to think about was what to say when she called Leslie.

What she needed to
not
think about was what Leslie
wouldn’t
say.

What Leslie
hadn’t
said had been loud between them ever since she and Grady teamed up with Great-Grandmother Beatrice to give April a home.

April had been thirteen. Her mother had still been alive, though not much of a mother. Really, Melly had never been much of a mother. It became more noticeable when April’s father died when she was six.

Sitting there on the floor, getting far more solace than she was giving and thinking this might be when the tears came, April tried to decide which was worse — Leslie not saying, or Great-Grandma Beatrice saying. God knew Beatrice Craig had not and would not hesitate to express her opinion, even—

That’s when April looked up and saw the card.

“What is she doing at an animal shelter?” Sharon demanded.

Silence was the only possible response to that unanswerable question.

“Right,” she said. “Let me know when something changes.”

A date card on Rufus’ cage. How had she missed that when she’d let him out?

The date was tomorrow’s. And since the shelter was officially closing soon for the night, he had run out of time. In the morning—

She didn’t hesitate, she put in the adoption papers.

She used the Warringtons’ address. No one in the shelter’s back office had seen her suitcases, so they had no reason to wonder. And her years of volunteering persuaded them to bend the rules, letting her take Rufus immediately. His near-death experience also contributed, she was sure.

Walking out with him suffused her with joy. She’d saved him. She had a dog. She got to take him right home.

She got to take him right home.

There was the snag. She didn’t have a home.

Standing in front of the now-closed shelter with suitcases and a dog on a leash from the first-night-home goody bag, she considered her options.

If she called Great-Grandma Beatrice, a car service would pick her up before she could turn around.

April would have a lot to listen to once the car reached Charlottesville. That wouldn’t be fun, but she could handle it. The sticking point was Rufus. He would not be welcomed. She certainly couldn’t send Rufus back to a shelter. Even if she could find another place for him in the nanosecond her great-grandmother’s tolerance of dogs lasted, could she let him go at all?

So that left Leslie and Grady.

No problem with Rufus there. They’d take him in. Never raise a fuss if he damaged anything in their beautiful home. The problem was they weren’t in that beautiful home.

Oh, she knew the code. And they’d be fine with her staying there, even if she never called and told them she was doing it.

But that was too cowardly.

She’d
have
to call.

Then they’d want her to come to Illinois, where they were. Where they
all
were.

Every year they gathered for the holidays. An extended family that kept expanding like a balloon with marriages, births, and oddballs like her.

Grady had been best friends in college with Paul Monroe and Michael Dickinson, then Paul’s younger cousin Tris joined them their senior year. Later, Paul married Bette, then Michael and Tris got married, and of course Grady married Leslie. But it didn’t end there. There were all their kids, Paul’s younger sister Judi and the family she’d married into, Paul and Judi’s parents, assorted in-laws and connections.

All the people who’d taken her in nearly as much as Leslie and Grady had. They were Leslie and Grady’s friends. They were her... What? The people who’d hugged away her tears when she let them, cheered her successes when she had them, defined security and friendship and decency.

They would wrap her up in love and the holidays. They would distract her with their kids, who’d long viewed her as something between an aunt and a camp counselor. They would keep her too busy with festivities and traditions to mope. They would fix things.

They’ll take care of you

She looked down at the dog.

He looked up with melted milk-chocolate eyes, content and trusting.

She needed to figure this out.

Maybe Hunter took a little perverse pleasure in making his next report to Sharon, “She has a dog.”

“What?”

“A dog. Four legs. Tail. Fur.”

“I know what a dog– What is she doing with it?”

“Standing. In front of the animal shelter, with her luggage, making phone calls.” And looking more disheartened with each call.

“She must be going to the Roberts’. She must be.”

“They’re out of town, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

He looked over at Kenton. “You said she let herself into the Roberts’ house at lunchtime Monday, right?”

“Yes. Watered the plants.”

He spoke back into the phone. “So she’d go right there. No need for phone calls. One call maybe to see if it was okay, but she’s made more than a dozen that were short, now three that have lasted— Wait a minute. She’s flagging down a taxi. On the move.”

“Crap!” Derek Kenton retreated three steps.

“Don’t move,” Hunter barked. He and Sharon had immediately gone still. Derek froze now.

April Gareaux rolled her shoulders as if she’d shivered, then pivoted away from the window she’d been staring out and carried a laundry basket across her friend’s living room.

No one moved until the hallway door closed behind her, shutting off their view.

Derek cursed. “She looked right at us. How the hell did she know–.”

“She didn’t. She couldn’t see you. We’re a dark void to her.”
You’ve been watching me
. No, she
couldn’t
have known. Yet she’d been so certain… “But you know better than to move. Motion—”

“—draws attention,” Derek finished with a grimace. “Sorry.”

Hunter nodded. “Sharon, as long as you’re heading out—” She’d said she came to see the set-up, but he suspected there was more. None of which he want to hear. Better to get her headed home to her family. “—check the laundry room as soon as she leaves.”

“See if she’s interacting with people? Or if someone else is following her? Good idea, but why not you?” All she had to do was pull rank, say “you do it.” Typical that she’d rather poke at him.

“Hotel set-up, then—”

“Why? She turned you down.”

Actually, the hotel was already set up. And double-checked. “Her initial reaction was negative. That could change.”

“C’mon, that isn’t why you want me to check the laundry room instead of doing it yourself.” She squinted at him, then laughed. “God! Impervious Pierce isn’t afraid of a little lingerie is he?”

He ignored her. “Don’t make contact. Call me if anything needs to be added to the report. Please,” he added belatedly.

Still grinning, she left.

Sitting on a folding chair with his screen masked so its light wouldn’t show through the window, he opened the report, picking up where he’d left off.

The subject had loaded the luggage in the taxi, had a dispute with the driver about the dog, which she’d won, then headed out. With them right behind.

They hadn’t gone far, pulling up to what he recognized as the address of the apartment she’d sublet when she’d moved to the Warrington estate.

Ah. Most likely her former neighbor across the hall. The background report had said they were friendly.

Supposition wasn’t fact, so he’d dispatched Kenton to arrive as she finished getting everything into the elevator to watch which floor she went to. “Don’t help her or she’ll remember you,” he’d ordered.

He confirmed with operations as soon as Kenton reported, and they were in this vacant unit across the street before she’d finished dragging her last suitcase into Mandy Roteen’s apartment.

Mandy Roteen left shortly afterward, and April Gareaux divided her time between laundry and the dog.

You’ve been watching me.

He gazed past his laptop to the window across the street.

She couldn’t have seen them a few minutes ago.

Just as she couldn’t have known she was being watched.

He was good at his job. When he didn’t want his presence known, it wasn’t.

Yet she had been so sure ... until his lack of response made her doubt.

He shifted. Damned uncomfortable, these folding chairs.

He focused on the screen and completed the report.

He did not include the subject’s comments about believing she’d been watched. Nor the gleeful descriptions of lace cups and high-cut legs Sharon called in. If she wanted that in the report she could put it in herself.

April wearily stacked cushions from Mandy’s pull-out sofa on the floor.

There hadn’t been a single hotel room within walking distance of the Metro system she needed for getting to work that would accept dogs and wouldn’t bankrupt her.

Her next call had been to her best friend from college.

Amy said, “I’m so sorry I can’t help, but Greg and I are in Colorado already for the holiday week, and the floors are being redone while we’re gone.”

That had delivered a double jolt.

Jolt A was realizing Thanksgiving was exactly a week away.

Jolt B was having no idea who Greg was, which showed how long it had been since they’d been in touch. God, nearly two years. She’d been so busy at the end with Gerard, then trying to find a job, meeting Reese ... She’d let time — and the friendship — slide by.

She searched her mind for someone else she’d feel okay about calling for help.

It might be a bad career move, but she tried Zoe.

In response to the news of the engagement ending, she’d said, “Good riddance to the jerk. Now we can party.”

In response to the news that April had a dog, she’d said, “No way. I’m allergic as all get-out. Hives, hospital, the whole thing. Not possible.”

Zoe had promised to make calls on her behalf. But the evening had been slipping away. April would have to go to Leslie and Grady’s place. Which meant she’d have to call them. Which meant she’d be in Illinois before she knew it. Which meant she — once again — would be rescued by the people she most wanted to show she was self-sufficient.

In desperation, she’d tried her former neighbor, Mandy. With reluctance clear in her voice, Mandy agreed to have April and Rufus stay for the one night’s overlap, before she, too, left for the holiday.

Ahhh
. That gave her more than a week to figure out the next move. April had felt like dancing. It was a good thing she refrained, because she needed all her energy to get her belongings in the cab, out of the cab, in the elevator, out of the elevator, and down the hall.

Mandy immediately announced she had plans this evening, which clearly didn’t include staying home consoling uninvited guests. She said not to wait up, she wouldn’t disturb April when she came in, and she left.

April washed clothes. That was a lesson from years with Melly. When you had access to a washing machine, you did laundry.

Next, she called Zoe to update her and check for any progress on a more permanent place.

“If you had a bigger budget...” The other woman didn’t complete the thought, apparently recalling that it was what she paid April that limited her housing budget.

April plugged the awkward gap. “If I had more success lobbying for Brussels sprouts, I’d earn more and then I’d have a bigger budget.”

Did princesses have an association? Maybe she’d be better lobbying for princesses. Especially if she learned about being a princess from the inside.

April touched the business card she’d transferred to the pocket of her robe.