“Nah, Mom understands this dress is for the December ceremony. She’ll be here when we go to the design meeting for the dress I’ll wear for the more formal church ceremony.” She shakes her head. “Your mother was non-negotiable about that. My dress has to be something custom and have sleeves.”
“I hope Mum doesn’t find out about the December wedding.”
“You and me both. We’ll tell your parents afterward.Do you think you can keep from saying anything?”
“You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Thank you.” Amanda places a hand on my shoulder. “You start school in another week, week and a half?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Are you excited about the move to your flat? Do you need any help finding furniture?” She rubs her hands together, her eyes gleaming in excitement. “You know how much I love interior design.”
“I am, but I’m not going to be moving in until mid-February. I’m not ready for furniture yet, but I’d love your help picking out all the designs features for the ground-floor flat.”
“Ground-floor flat? You have more than one unit?”
I nod. “Since the construction crew ended up having to tear out more walls than expected, and I don’t need all the space, I thought it would be best if we turned the ground floor into its own separate property.”
“Smart, but what are you going to do with it? Sell it?”
“Mum and Papa said I could if the right person comes along, and they meet with their approval.”
“Uh-huh.” Amanda cocks her head to the side. “I know your dad though. What’s the catch?”
“The only people allowed would be a family member or friend of the family,” I answer sheepishly.
“That’s Reggie for you.” She chuckles. “Well, don’t worry. I’m sure the downstairs unit won’t stay vacant forever.”
“I hope not. It would be nice to have a friend live next to me.”
Later that evening,as I lie in bed, I tap the email icon on the borrowed tablet from Amanda. It’s been a whole half hour since the last time I checked. Maybe something has changed.
As the page reloads, I mutter, “Please, please, please.”
The inbox, however, remains empty. Placing the device face down, I groan and slide deeper under the covers, pulling the sheet over my head. “When am I going to hear from you again?”
Twenty-Eight
It’s Friday. It’s been five days since I sent Art a message and I have yet to hear anything from him. No matter what, I’ve told myself that if I don’t hear from him by tonight, I’ll ring him. My patience is running out.
“All right, ma’am, spill the tea. What are you afraid to ask me?” Bruce says. He’s temporarily been returned to duty as my protection officer.
I turn my gaze away from the passing scenery of London. We’re blessedly alone since it’s such a short trip from the flat to the stables. Angela is still hardly speaking to me unless its business related. “Er, what makes you think I have a burning question to ask?”
“Call it my sixth sense.”
There is no hiding anything from Bruce. Thereissomething that’s been on my mind. “How long do internal investigations within your department normally take to complete?”
The car slows and he stops at a red light. A few pedestrians cross, carrying oversized shopping bags with souvenirs from one of the palace’s many gift shops.
“It depends. If it’s something that’s straightforward, three or maybe four weeks. If it involves a personanda job performanceevaluation, the inquiry may take a few months before a decision is reached.”
“That long?” My heart drops.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Why isn’t he checking his darn email?” I mutter to myself.
