Did Margot…?I can’t believe she took a week to reflect and decided to forgo two million pounds. It’s a lot of money even for someone like me, but it is a fortune for her.
“Open it, please,” I say to Mrs. Everly.
She does. It really is my check. Margot really did return it.
Crazy woman!
Mrs. Everly peeks inside the envelope. “There’s a tiny note in there, too.”
I hesitate.
Fortunately, she comes up with a solution. “I could take it out without looking, hold it up to my phone, then put it back, and reseal the envelope with Scotch tape.”
“Mrs. Everly, that’s a great idea!”
I’ll burst if I have to wait a week to read it.
She goes on to do exactly what she said she would, taking care to show both sides of the note to the camera, since she can’t see which side has the writing.
I want the fairy tale.
That’s it, just those words.
Wait, I know that line!Julia Roberts’s Vivian says it inPretty Womanwhen Richard Gere’s character offers her cash and a condo.
I lift up my phone. “Mrs. Everly, I’ve read it. You can pack the note away.”
We wrap up the session after that. I lean back in my swivel chair and grin, validated in my assessment of Margot.
That note, it’s just so her!
When I decided against suggesting that we start a casual relationship, no strings attached, it was because I didn’t see her agreeing to it. I was correct. Spot on, as the Brits would say. She would’ve said no. She refused a consolation prize of two million, for Chrissakes!
The fairy tale, huh?
A flash of clarity chases away the fog that’s been hanging inside my head for much too long. I fire up my laptop, insert Prince Richard’s and the prime minister’s email addresses, and begin to type.
CHAPTER33
JONAS
I’m strolling around the park with Margot. She’s had a lot to process since she was flown in here this morning. I drove over to the Pombrio Airport, picked her up and brought her to the estate. To keep up appearances, I had her settled into a guest room adjacent to my office, but she’ll obviously sleep in my bed.
Eyes on the slush, Jonas!You can’t roam the grounds at three in the afternoon sporting wood.
Margot halts to appreciate the oak tree alley on our left, magnificent even when the crowns are bare.
“Would you like to head that way?” I ask.
She nods, shifting her eyes to me. “What was the nickname the royals gave me? Something to do with the key…”
“Key to the Key,” I say. “It isn’t a nickname, but more like an honorary title. It’s the reason you are allowed to visit Mount Evor.”
“I had to sign a draconian nondisclosure agreement before boarding the plane!”
My lips curl up. “You think that was all? Our secret service had vetted and cleared you, but the PM was unwilling to let you in. Crown Prince Theodor had to intervene with his uncle and the PM.”
“What did he say to them?”
