“Dammit. I should probably run out and talk to him, but I also need to sort out this water thing.”
Ruben tilts his head a bit as the light bulb goes on over his head. “Why don’t I go talk to them?”
“Would you?”
“I’m on it. You get back to work.” He gives me a quick nod and hurries away while a pang of guilt hits me. Not for tricking my father-in-law, but for siccing him on our unsuspecting gardeners. I’m going to have to make sure they get a much bigger Christmas bonus this year.
As soon as he leaves, I call Vincent into my office. When he walks in, he says, “Sorry about that, Your Highness. He must have sneaked in when I went to get a tea. I swear he hides somewhere, waiting for me to leave my desk.”
“About that. I need you to find out how the rebuild of their home is going and see if there is anyway we can hurry it along. I need them out of here pronto.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Oh, and let’s just keep this between us. I’m not sure how Tessa would feel if she knew the lengths to which I’m willing to go to have her parents settled back in at home.”
“Understood.”
“Thank you.” After Vincent is gone and the door to my office is closed, I stand and walk over to the window, watching as Ruben inspects the lawn tractor as the head gardener looks on with a rather annoyed expression. Better him than Antonio Guterres, the Secretary General of the U.N. or Justin Trudeau, for that matter. As nice as he is, did you see when he elbowed that Member of Parliament out of his way in the House of Commons a while back? I honestly don’t think you’d want to spend a lot of time on his bad side.
***
OKAY, SO MY DAY HASgone from very busy and somewhat irritating to total shit. Let me back up a bit. I’ve spent the better part of the month rushing from meeting to engagement, believing my father would be returning this weekend to relieve me of his duties. Only late this afternoon, he’s sent word that he’s decided to extend his trip and will spend the next four months touring Africa, including a climb of Kilimanjaro and no fewer than six safari tours. I mean, honestly, six? Isn’t that a bit much for anyone? I know it’s magical and amazing and all, butsix?
At 5 o'clock today, Philip had sent all the meeting notifications and travel itinerary information to Vincent, including one trip to New York in November, one trip to Geneva for the EU talks, and what will likely turn out to be three weeks of twelve-hour days in preparation for and during the Earth Summit. Hardly fair, but not exactly something I can fix at this point.
As soon as I saw the schedule, I realized I'm basically going to miss every one of Tessa's prenatal appointments between now and the beginning of December. I can squeeze in the first ultrasound appointment, but that’s it. Other than that, she’s on her own.
Or I guess, not really on her own.Xavierwill be there for her, of course. I suppose I should take some comfort in knowing she’ll be with someone who takes a genuine interest in not only Tessa and the baby’s security, but their health as well. But deep down, some part of me doesn’t like having the world’s most ridiculously handsome bodyguard filling in for me when I can’t be there. I’d much rather she had to rely on someone less...him. Like her mother or Arabella. But even if one of them is there, he’ll be there, too. Not me.
Oh, and I know Tessa finds him irritating and is in no way attracted to him (or anyone at this point, including me unfortunately) and I can trust her completely. This isn’t a sex thing. It’s a closeness thing. How can I stay close to my wife if I’m not going to be here for her? How can she not end up feeling closer to the people she’s surrounded by day in and day out whilst I’m away?
Especially when she’s going through what can only be described as a very turbulent time and her husband is basically going to abandon her for the bulk of it?
She’s going to be very ticked when she finds out my father’s decided to slough all his responsibilities onto me again, and honestly, she’ll have every right to be disappointed and angry. Hell,I'mangry myself to have to miss that much of our baby’s life. Even though he won’t actually know his dad has turned into a neglectful workaholic,I’ll know, and the entire thing worries me because these next several months are just a microcosm of my entire life. It's not like things are going to change miraculously and I’ll suddenly have hours a day freed up to be a doting dad.
So for the past thirty minutes, Vincent and I have been trying to find ways to tweak the schedule so I can be home more than I’ll be away.
Spoiler alert: it’s not working, and I’m totally fucked.
I glance at my watch, realizing that I've only got twenty-eight minutes to rush back to our apartment, shower, shave, and dress in my penguin suit for this evening's formal dinner and silent auction in support of the Avonian Opera Society.
“Shit. I have to run. Can you do me a favour and finish this?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Thank you,” I say, shutting down my computer. “Oh, and can you wait to send the notifications to Gillian and Tessa until tomorrow morning? I’d like to have a chance to break it to Tessa gently.”
“Yes, excellent idea, Your Highness.”
Vincent returns to his desk while I gather my cell phone and some paperwork I need to go over later. When I pass by his desk a few moments later, I wish Vincent a goodnight. Hurrying down the hall, I catch a whiff of blue cheese and turn to see him following me.
"What's up?"
"I'm afraid I have some bad news."
“Can it wait for tomorrow? I’m pretty sure I’ve had my fill of shit news today, Vincent.”
"Sorry, sir. You’ll need to see this before you...return to your apartment."
