So what was the harm in waiting? In keeping that one inconvenient truth folded away. Until there was more of him for her to weigh it against.
It wasn’t lying. It was curation.
Nate straightened, rubbing a hand over his face. Yeah. That was fine. People curated things all the time. Instagram. Résumés. First impressions. This was basically the same thing. Right?
He pushed away from the window, his reflection staring back at him—wide-eyed, a little desperate, and definitely not convinced. But he squared his shoulders anyway, because if there was one thing Nate was good at, it was acting like he had his shit together.
And for the first time in a long time, he wanted to be the guy Ella seemed to think he was.
Chapter Eight
Allegra lay on the hotel bed in a puddle, one leg hanging off the side, the other bent at an angle that made her look like a broken yoga pose. The shutters were mostly closed, but the setting sun poured in through a crack, turning the room golden.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, vibrating its way closer to the edge. She groaned, her hand flopping toward it. The screen readClara. She let it rumble a second longer, before swiping to answer and hauling herself up on one elbow. “Hey, Maus, how’s things?”
Clara’s face appeared on screen, eyebrows arched like she already knew exactly how much trouble Allegra was in. “Same old, same old,” she said brightly. “Our family’s lost its goddamn mind. They even released a statement saying you’re ‘recovering at home from exhaustion.’” She lifted her fingers in air quotes. “Which I believe translates to please fling yourselves into a moat.” She rolled her eyes. “And Daddy? He’s convinced that if he finds you, he can still Frankenstein you and Jullien back together.”
Allegra grunted and fell back onto the pillow, arm stretched above her, phone threatening to faceplant on her nose. “Of course. He’s the one who set us up in the first place. Orchestrated a whole sit-next-to-each-other situation at the Sports for the Whatever gala.”
“Exactly. So now you’re the ungrateful heiress who dared sabotage a perfectly good dynasty. Oh, and by the way…” Clarapaused, savoring the moment like a villain monologuing before the big reveal. “They know you’re in Switzerland.”
Allegra winced and flopped her free forearm over her face, blocking out the sun and her life in one dramatic swoop. “Shit. Already?”
“Mm-hmm. Want to guess how?”
“It’s not the phone,” Allegra said, voice muffled. “You’re the only one who has this number, and my palace-issued one’s powered down.” She peeked out from under her arm. “Unless you—”
Clara’s amusement vanished instantly. “Excuse you? No, I did not betray you. Try again.”
Her brain stuttered, and then—oh fuck. Her insides plunged as if they’d missed a step on the stairs. “Eeeek. The credit card?”
“Bingo. The flights. You used the allowance account, didn’t you?”
Allegra squeezed her eyes shut. “Ugh. I was stressed. The gate was closing. And the guy behind me was breathing down my neck.”
“At least tell me you’re using something untraceable now.”
Allegra pushed herself upright. “I am. A prepaid card.”
Clara stared at the screen. “You have a prepaid card?”
“Yes,” Allegra said, tucking her leg under her. “For, you know, discretionary expenses.”
“Wait. Discretionary like shoes, or discretionary like consumer electronics?”
Allegra pressed her lips together, saying nothing.
“Ah.” Clara nodded. “The ‘do not open in front of Daddy’ kind of expenses.”
Allegra huffed a breath, shoulders sagging. “Anyway, what happens now?”
“I lied for you,” Clara said, waving an arm with the serene confidence of a queen granting a pardon. “Told them you took atrain to Interlaken to hide out in some mountain village. Daddy’s already got someone there snooping around.”
“You what?” Allegra squeaked, horrified and impressed in equal measure.
“You’re welcome. But now they’re huffy because I forgot to mention we’d been in touch, so you owe me. Big time. I’m thinking diamonds. Or maybe a state banquet swap. Your choice.”
Allegra laughed despite herself, the sound bubbling up and loosening the knot of anxiety in her chest. “Thank you. Really. You’re a lifesaver.”
