Chapter One
Scottie
For the most part, her days were the same as before.She woke early for a workout, ate a protein-laden breakfast with the occasional Danish from Haven’s Bakery, captained her creative ship, O’Shay Shirts, dined at her favorite hometown hotspots like Valentino’s and Ella’s Diner.
She grabbed coffee with friends, played pickleball, rode horses, hung out with Dad or her grandparents on the weekend—if work didn’t call—and when he wasn’t consumed with the spring planting, she curled up with her boyfriend of two years, Cap Henderson.
She chatted with folks around town, most of whom she’d known her whole life, asked about their jobs or health, and wowed over the fact that Lila Smith’s Great-uncle Beau was still picking and grinning around town and in Nashville.He’d once played at the Grand Ole Opry.This was Scottie O’Shay in Hearts Bend, Tennessee, the small town tucked under Nashville’s shadow, defined by cozy streets, long traditions, Friday night football, guitar circles, and Sunday evening potlucks.
Yet deep down, her inner O’Shay bedrock had shifted.She’d discovered the truth.And as much as she wanted to pretend, she could carry on as usual, she found herself gazing out her office window toward the east, daydreaming about a land far, far away, and wondering“What if…”
“Scottie, oh my, oh my, it’s here.”Penny, her assistant, beamed from the other side of her desk, the latest edition ofGQpressed against her chest.“You are on the cover ofGQ.”
“Yes, I know.I was at the photo shoot,” she said, reaching for the magazine, staring at her own image and seeing the doubt in her eyes.Could the rest of the world see it too?
“It just arrived with a bouquet of flowers from the editor.”Penny disappeared for half a second to return with a very large vase containing a very large bouquet of wildflowers.
“Send him a nice thank you, will you, Penny?”Scottie flipped through the pages with marked reserve, finding her featured article, stiffening slightly at the headline.
She’s a Wildflower in the World of Men’s Fashion.Princess Scottie O’Shay.
She sank slowly to her chair.Why, why, why?People didn’t listen.She’d been adamant with the reporter, Rance Howell, to not refer to her as a princess.Because she wasn’t one.
“But your mother is a queen.”
“Yes, I realize it’s confusing, but her status does not change mine.Please don’t use the title related to me.”
He answered with a smile that said he’d write the story however he wanted.
“We’re celebrating in the lunchroom with cake,” Penny said, flipping through a second copy of the magazine, making notes on various pages with her black Sharpie.She liked to scout out and research O’Shay’s competition.She was southern, no nonsense, skilled, and invaluable.“Scottie, these pictures of you are gorgeous and the article is—” She glanced up.“Didn’t you tell him not to call you a princess?”
“I did.But it’s done now.”Scottie tossed the magazine to her desk.She’d read the article later.Rance Howell’s faux paus aside, being featured inGQwas huge for O’Shay Shirts.“So, what kind of cake?”
“Two kinds.Vanilla with buttercream icing and chocolate-on-chocolate.Your fave.Haven’s just delivered them.The interns are decorating, so we have a few minutes.”
“This is a win for all of us, so don’t put the spotlight on me.”She’d been on national morning shows repping O’Shay Shirts many times in the last ten years.She’d been inPeopleandVogue, for her role as a woman in a menswear world, but neverGQ.“Besides, I’ve been featured in mags and other places.”
She suspectedGQ’s interests peaked when the world learned the Queen of Lauchtenland, Catherine the Second, had a secret daughter.Scottie.But so what?She’d ride a bit of notoriety for the good of the company.
“True, but you’ve never been on the cover before.”
“Reach out to Rance Howell for me,” Scottie said.“Ask him what about ‘don’t use the title princess’ was confusing.”
Penny shot her a sly grin.“Gotcha, boss.”She exited the office with a final reminder.“Cake in twenty-seven minutes.”
Scottie glanced out her corner office window, the one framing the western tip of Hearts Bend and a curve of the Cumberland River, and wondered what her mother, the queen, was doing about now.Sitting down to a sumptuous Perrigwynn Palace dinner?
She moved away from her daydreams toward her drawing board spread with sketches for the winter line.She was irritatingly a week behind.Her concentration kept slipping.More and more her heart yearned to explore another life.
Ah, forget it.She was just restless, and work cured restlessness.Or maybe she just needed to fall all the way in love with Cap, get married, and make a baby.Though at thirty-eight, staring down the barrel of thirty-nine, the internal drumbeats of motherhood remained a distant sound.
Stepping over a pile of fabric samples on the floor, she sat at her board and took up her pencil.She began every collection with pencil and paper.Photographs of models were strewn along the edges.Some of the men were lean, others beefier.Some bald and some with thick-styled or wild hair.She had shots of men in suits sitting in a boardroom.Others wore leisure wear on the golf course or on the beach.
Scottie caught the edge of a photo she’d taken herself and had the marketing department enlarge for her.Pulling it free, she smiled at the face of her brother Gus.Too handsome for his own good.But as modest as they came.Especially for a prince.He’d make a great model, but he’d refused her half-joking offer to work for O’Shay.
As he should.He was a working royal for the House of Blue.
The truth of it all still caught in her in a funny way.She had a brother.Two brothers.She was a big sister, and that singular reality was a big part of why her world tilted.That, and the fact her mother was not dead but very much alive, living in a Lauchtenland palace as queen and supreme monarch.
