The Playboy's Princess (4 page)

There was no way his father would give him that much money, and the allowance he was offering wouldn’t cover it. Drew was back to square one. He’d have to sit in his parents’ house for the next four years or find a way to get some money.

He drove home feeling extremely depressed and went straight to his bedroom, avoiding his parents. Drew hated feeling bad, so he found the almost empty bottle of vodka in his desk drawer and drained it. Hopefully it would kick in soon and lift his mood. He lay down on the bed and rolled onto his side. He just had to find a way to get some money. It was so frustrating to have such a huge amount sitting and waiting for him and not be able to get his hands on it. If only there was a way to get…

He glanced over and saw the hater’s letter sitting on top of the pile of trash he hadn’t taken out yet. He snatched it up and read it again. The girl was actually quite funny. She was angry, that was obvious, but she had a dry sarcasm that he liked. Maybe his friends hadn’t been so stupid after all.

Drew got up and went over to his desk to write her a reply.

The days went on as they usually did, and Jade forgot about the jerk, Drew, who thought he could advertise for a wife. She went to work every day and hung out with her friends most evenings before returning to the tiny, grungy apartment. It was the same routine she’d had since moving from Florida.

Jade enjoyed her job working as a character in the world’s happiest theme park. She got to dress up as a princess every day. It was like fulfilling a childhood dream. That was how she’d met Clare; they worked there together. They spent their days wearing gorgeous gowns, smiling, waving, and having their photos taken. There were worse jobs in the world. The illusion of being a princess was short-lived, however, when she went home to her shoebox of an apartment with a hot water system that kept breaking down and a refrigerator that only worked some of the time.

She waved good-bye to the smiling children who were calling out to her—“Ariel! Ariel!”—and went to the break room.

“You’re so lucky you don’t have to wear a wig!” Clare groaned as she pulled the mass of brunette curls from her head. Her own blond hair was smashed under a hair net.

“One advantage to being a natural redhead,” Jade laughed.

She fluffed the thick red hair that fell down her back in soft waves. The starfish clip that held her bangs back was pinching her scalp, so she repositioned it and then grabbed her lunch out of her locker.

“So, you’ve been back at work for three days now. Are you settled back in?” she asked Clare.

Clare and Stuart had just spent two weeks in Mexico, lazing on the beach for their honeymoon, and Clare had come back with the most delightful tan.

“I guess,” she sighed. “I miss the beach. Maybe we could go over to Malibu one weekend? Or a weekend in Hawaii would be amazing!”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jade said. She knew she wouldn’t have the cash for that. She was saving up for a new fridge so her food wouldn’t go bad. She didn’t feel like dying of food poisoning anytime soon. Although if she did get food poisoning, she’d probably have a killer bikini body after all the vomiting.

That afternoon she collected the mail on her way home. It was something she did weekly, so she only got that depressing I’ve-got-more-bills-than-money feeling once instead of every day. There were several bills and some advertising catalogues as well as one hand-addressed letter.

She threw the rest of the mail down on the counter to look at later and ripped open the envelope. A quick scan of the handwriting told her she didn’t recognize it, and the signature at the end,
Drew Malik,
was also unfamiliar. She wracked her brain but couldn’t think of anyone she knew by that name. Of course there was Aaron Malik’s son…Jade thought his name was Drew. She’d seen him stumbling drunk on TMZ a few nights before. But what would
he
be writing to her for? With her curiosity piqued, she started to read the letter.

Dear Jade,

Thank you for taking the time to share all of your concerns with me. I agree that advertising for a bride is a horrendous thing to do. I assure you I had nothing to do with it. My friends placed the ad in the newspaper as a semi-joke.

I find myself in a situation where having a wife would be greatly beneficial to me, and my idiot friends were trying to help me out. I assure you I don’t take the idea of getting married lightly.

Since we seem to have a similar view on this, I was thinking maybe we could get together and see if an arrangement could be made to benefit us both.

If you’re curious, or interested to hear my proposal, please meet me at the Griddle Café on Sunset at 7 p.m. on Friday night. I’ll wait for you, in hopes that you’ll come.

Drew Malik

aka “The Asshole”

She stared at the letter and re-read it three times before she gave up trying to understand it. The letter didn’t confirm if he was Aaron Malik’s son, but one thing was for sure—this was the same Drew she’d written that letter to two weeks ago. Jade didn’t know whether to believe he’d had nothing to do with the ad. And she certainly couldn’t think of a reason why it would be advantageous for him to have a wife.

But he was right about one thing: she
was
curious.

Chapter Three

The Proposal

T
ONIGHT
W
AS
T
HE
N
IGHT
. Jade still hadn’t decided if she was going to meet Drew or not. He’d said he’d be waiting for her, which in a way made her feel like she
should
go. She knew how bad it felt to be stood up. But did she really want to face a guy who thought of marriage as a joke? On the plus side, if he pissed her off, she could throw her coffee in his face—she’d always wanted to try that.

Would she or wouldn’t she? Should she or shouldn’t she?

Her mind was made up when she got home and stood naked in her bathroom for nearly ten minutes, waiting for the shower to get hot. Eventually she gave up and settled for a freezing cold shower. She couldn’t live like this anymore.

As she toweled herself dry, her stomach rumbled loudly, and she sighed, knowing she didn’t have any food in the cupboard. She worked full time, but the majority of her wages paid her rent and tuition loans. There wasn’t a lot left over for luxuries like food. In his letter, Drew had said his proposition would benefit them
both
. Could she interpret that to mean that she would get some kind of payment for helping him?

She changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater that didn’t have any holes and ran out the door before she changed her mind. She wasn’t sure if it made her a prostitute for offering a service for payment. It felt wrong. But she shook her head to clear the thoughts; she didn’t even know what he wanted from her. Surely it wasn’t sex. And she knew she wouldn’t do that anyway. She would rather starve.

Her car door creaked as she opened it, and her heart clenched in the daily routine of would or wouldn’t the car start? She buckled her seat belt and rubbed her hands on the steering wheel.

“Come on, Gertrude, you can do it,” she said as she turned the key.

The car sputtered but came to life. Jade quickly put it into gear and pulled onto the street before the engine stalled.

“Good girl!” She found it helped to encourage the car.

Her mind raced the whole way to the Griddle Café. She’d heard of the place but never actually eaten there. There was a long line of people standing outside in small groups, chatting as they waited for a table. She checked in, giving her name, and followed the balding man as he led her into the tiny, crowded space, ignoring the grumbles of the other people in line. Her stomach rumbled at the smell of pancakes and coffee as she squeezed her way through the tables.

She realized she didn’t even know who she was looking for. She scanned the room and saw several teenagers, some couples, an older man reading a book, and one guy sitting on his own who was about her own age. He looked familiar, the way a radio personality did…You’d seen their faces on billboards, but you didn’t know them personally. It was Drew Malik…the actor’s son. Shit!

Slowly, she started to walk toward his booth while trying to casually smooth her hair. As she got closer, he smiled and stood up.

“Are you Jade?” he asked.

She nodded and sat down, in shock. She hadn’t actually expected the Drew Malik from the letter to be
Drew Malik
. What was she going to say to him?

“I’m Drew,” he said, smiling, and held his hand out for her to shake.

Jade moved her hand forward, almost hesitant to touch him. Drew was handsome, and not just normal guy-in-the-street-that-you-look-at-as-he-walks-by handsome. He was movie star handsome. His blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at her, and his perfect white teeth shone in the dim lights of the diner. He looked almost exactly like his father.

“I’m glad you came,” he said when he released her hand and ran his fingers through his messy brown hair.

Jade tried to open her mouth to speak, but no words came out. All kinds of dirty thoughts ran through her mind, and she was frightened that if she did say something it would be about how much she wanted to suck on his luscious bottom lip. Suddenly the idea of prostitution wasn’t as repulsive as it had been.

“Would you like anything? Coffee?” he asked politely.

She nodded, and he waved over the server, asking her to bring two coffees.

“So, what do you do?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” Jade forced herself to concentrate and to stop staring at him.

“I feel at a bit of a disadvantage. I’m sure you know about my life already from the media, and I know nothing about you. What do you do?”

“I’m a princess,” she replied.

Drew laughed and waited, but when she held her neutral expression, he frowned. “What?”

“At Disneyland. I’m one of the princesses.”

Drew’s eyebrows raised. “Seriously? You wear the dresses and the crown?”

She nodded.

“Which princess are you?”

“Can’t you guess?” she asked, her voice a little flirty, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.
That’s it, girl. Just be cute and casual.

“You’re the sexy mermaid one!” he cheered.

“Well, I’m not
sexy
at Disneyland. But, yes, I’m Ariel.”

The waitress put two cups of coffee down on the table, and they each drank, allowing their conversation to fall away.

“You must think I’m very strange.” Drew chuckled, sounding just as nervous as Jade felt.

“What? Oh…no, not at all,” she said meekly.

“You seemed to think so in your letter,” he countered.

That snapped Jade out of her trance. She smiled shyly, keeping her eyes locked on the Formica table top. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

He laughed again. “It was actually quite refreshing, and I want to assure you again that I didn’t place that ad. I swear it was my friends.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why would they do that?” she asked and immediately felt nosy.

“It has to do with what I wanted to talk to you about tonight. Maybe I should start at the beginning?”

Jade nodded and reached for the coffee cup that had just been refilled. She brought it up to her lips, blowing on it gently before taking a sip.

“My grandmother died recently…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she blurted, cutting him off. “I did read about that in the paper.”

“She lived a good life,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “In her will, she left me a house and a trust fund.”

Jade nodded to show her understanding, although why the son of Hollywood’s biggest action hero needed a trust fund was beyond her.

“There were certain stipulations laid down in the will about when I could access the money. I was willing to wait until I turned thirty and it came to me by default, but the house she left me is in shambles and needs a lot of money spent on it before I can move in.”