“Oh, she’s public enemy number one as far as I’m concerned,” he agrees.
I flop down on the sofa opposite them. It gives a creak in protest, and one of the springs digs uncomfortably into my butt cheek.
It’s a metaphor for my life right now.
I shift along until I find a sunken spot without metal armor. “I don't exactly have any choice but to be my authentic self.”
“Do youwanta choice?” Nona asks.
I worry my lip. If I had the chance to do it all again, would I remain as Fabiana Fontaine? Would I protect myself from falling in love with the prince?
Although it hurts like heck, I wouldn’t give up those precious moments spent with him. Not for the world.
“I don't want the choice,” I reply.
“That's my girl. Be proud of who you are. You are my granddaughter, after all.”
“And what a grandmother you have,” Mr. Beckman says, gazing at my nona with love in his eyes.
Seriously, it’s like his eyes have morphed into little heart emojis.
“What would I do without you, Nona?” I ask, my throat heating up.
“You’d have a conservatory full of dead orchids for starters.”
I smile. “I’ll be sure to ask St. Nick for a green thumb this year.”
My phone buzzes, and I pick it up to see which journalist is calling me now only to see Ronan Clementine'sname appear on my screen. Instantly, my heart rate kicks up.
My first thought is that it’s actually Max, and for some reason he’s using Mr. Clementine’s phone. Totally illogical, but when is hope logical?
“I think it's the palace PR guy,” I say.
Nona leans forward with interest. “I suggest you answer that one, Val.”
Apprehension builds in me, but I answer anyway. Part of being the new Valentina Romano is being brave.
“Hello?”
“This is Ronan Clementine, Ms. Fontaine…or rather, should I say, Lady Romano.”
“Hello, Mr. Clementine,” I reply, my heart drumming.
“I understand you’ve been, err, swamped, shall we say, and I wanted to ensure you receive a package that’s being sent to you today.”
My heart sinks. It’s probably legal documents. They’re going to sue me. “A package?” I ask.
“Expect it in about an hour.”
“All right.” When he doesn’t reply, I say, “Mr. Clementine?”
He clears his throat. “Ah, Ms. Chen says to say hello.” I can hear a voice in the background. “Hello, Fab, to be precise.”
I smile despite myself. “Say hi back.”
“I certainly will. And Lady Romano? For what it’s worth, I think it’s a shame what happened. You had been producing some good work for the prince. He owes you a debt.”
I swallow down a rising lump. “He doesn’t owe me anything.”
