I turn in time to see Pierce pick up the phone. “This wouldn’t be happening if you weren’t here, you know.”
Pierce hates Bunny. But I can’t blame him. She favours me in a way that is rather appalling. “Don’t move a muscle,” he says, swiping the screen.
“Mother, hello.” Pause. “Yes, he’s right here.” Pause. “I have no idea why he’s not answering his phone. I’m not his nanny.” Pause. “Lovely to speak to you as well.”
He rolls his eyes as he walks over to me and hands me the phone.
I pop the snorkel out of my mouth again and say, “Hello, Mum! How’s my favourite lady?” I know, I hate myself, too.
“Terrible, Leo. You’ve dropped a huge clanger this time.”
“Yes, I know, and I’m horribly sorry.” I’m not really, but she seems to like when I say that.
“No, you’re not, but you will be. Your father has never been this angry in all the years I’ve known him.”
“I find that hard to believe. His favourite pastime is being angry.”
“The King of Sweden is entertaining meetings with Vodaphone and MTS.”
“Seriously?” Shit. This is bad. I’ve never fucked up so badly that the family biz was affected.
“Yes, seriously,” she says dramatically. “Whyher? Of all the women you could have…gotten to know better. She’s not even good-looking. Plus, you knew who she was. How could you not think this would happen?”
“I find her quite lovely. Also, I didn’t think anyone would find out.” Oh, that was a lame answer, wasn’t it? The truth is, I was so hammered, I forgot she’s in line for the Swedish throne. “Why don’t I come back so I can smooth things over? I’ll go see her father. Perhaps if I’m man enough to go there in person, he’ll change his mind.”
“Definitely not. Someone tipped off the press, and they’re sniffing around for a story. If you show up anywhere near Sweden, you’ll ruin us all.”
Good. I didn’t want to go anyway, but I have toactlike I want to fix this so she’ll send me some money, and I can stay put. “In that case, how can I make it up to you and Father?”
“You can’t. You’re completely underestimating the level of rage this time,” she says with a sigh. “Oh, my head, Leo. This migraine you’ve caused is unbearable. I’ve been in bed in the dark since yesterday morning.”
“I’m sorry, Mum.” This time, I mean it. I never seek to harm anyone, especially not someone as delicate as my mother. “It was very selfish and stupid of me, and if I could fix it, I would.”
“Well, you can’t. And I can’t help you this time, either,” she says, sniffing. “Your father has cut off my wellness fund. He’s saying it’s because the stocks will fall if we lose Sweden, but I’m certain it’s because he doesn’t want me to send you any money. I can’t live without my wellness fund, Leo. You know how much I need my treatments.”
Her weekly spa treatments serve to preserve her like a jar of pickled woman. If my mother could live in a cryogenic chamber wheeled around everywhere to prevent her from aging, she would totally do it. Nothing gets in the way of her regime—not the time I broke my leg skiing when I was eight and had to have surgery, not even when her own father died. She sent an enormous flower arrangement from the medi-spa in Switzerland in lieu of actually bothering to show up.
“Not your wellness fund!” I roll my eyes at Pierce, who scrunches his nose up in disgust. “But surely after a few weeks, I’ll find a way to make it all right as rain, or at the very least, find the loopholes to get you your money back.”
“As much as I appreciate the offer, lamb, it won’t work. Your father has found a way to closeallthe loopholes this time.”
Impossible. There are literally limitless loopholes, and my superpower is finding them and squeezing my way out. “I’m sure I can finesse the situation—”
“Not this time.”
Her tone definitely has me worried. “All right, I’ll camp out here until this blows over, then come back and ask his forgiveness. It’s not half bad, really. I’m getting some sun and helping Pierce and Emma around the house a bit.” Eyeing the sword on the wall, I add, “I was just about to cut up some fruit.”
“Oh, well, that’s good of you,” she says, sounding completely caught off guard at the thought of me helping out. “Oh, my darling boy, I’m afraid things are about to get much worse for you.”
That sounded a little apocalyptic, no? “What is that supposed to mean?”
I hear a voice in the background. It’s mum’s personal maid, Genevieve.
“I’ll be right there,” Mother says, her voice a little muffled. When she comes back on the line, she says, “Leo, lamb, I didn’t realize the time. My massage therapist is set to arrive to help with my migraine, and I must shower before he arrives.”
Let’s pretend we didn’t hear that, okay? “Mother, wait. Can you please tell me why things are about to get much worse?”
“I must run, but your father is sending someone to see you. Doeverythinghe says, and things may work out. Kisses!” With that, she’s gone, leaving me standing in my trunks wondering what the hell is about to happen.
