“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten about Edward, thanks.” With a sigh, I sit up, feeling more like a light-headed Victorian with the galloping consumption rather than my usual self. I gulp down some of my lager.
James holds my gaze. He waits. “What happened with Stef?”
“Nothing happened with Stef.” I squirm. But I’m trapped, and there really isn’t a way out of this.
Lying to James is a much more solid choice than lying to Ethan, who listens in curiously.
“Nothing happened all the way to Scotland, hmm?” James asks archly. “Well, then? Out with it.”
“We were just trying to problem-solve the yacht situation. That’s all. I mean, aside from the charitable donation,” I say as mildly as I can, shrugging. There’s nothing there James can rip to shreds.
Unconvinced, James presses his lips together. He raps the table. “Theo, I hate to remind you yet again, but your freewheeling days are numbered.”
“Yeah, I know.” I glance at Ethan, giving him a wry look. We founded the business together, and I don’t want to let him down.
Ethan just shrugs. “It’s out of my control. You do what you need to do. We’ll figure out the business. I can buy you out, as a potential option.”
I slump. “That’s very kind, but I would still rather be working at the business.”
“Do you have a timeline for going to Denmark… and everything?” Ethan asks.
“Unknown. I don’t know how long I can stall my family, unfortunately.”
“Which means, I implore you, to seriously consider Edward.” James looks at me. “You can have a mutually beneficial arrangement. Get to know him. See what happens. Make a plan together.”
“It’s not very romantic, is it?” I tell him with a sigh. “When you put it like that.”
“Princes don’t have time for romance except in select fairy tales,” James informs me sternly. “Yourself included.”
“What about you?” I stare him down.
“I’m not as high up in the line of succession,” James points out. “Not as high as you are, anyway. It’s different for me. Also, romance doesn’t seem to have worked out lately for me either. I might as well find a marriage of allegiance.”
I fidget with the cuff of my shirt. If only things were different. Despite my efforts to work this afternoon, my thoughts kept drifting back to Stef. About how he was doing after my visit. Thank God Ethan had my phone in the afternoon so I couldn’t text him. And I can’t forget the way Stef tasted like apples against my lips, the shiver rippling through his body as I traced his smooth skin in bed, the urgent way he looked at me as if I meant something important to him.
Even if, as we both noted, it was for pretend only.
“Earth to Theo.” James raps his knuckles sharply on the table again, bringing me back.
“Sorry.”
“You’re a million miles away.”
“I told you, I’m tired…”
James ignores this. “Repeat after me: I will contact Edward this week and talk about a future together.”
“I—wait. What?” I frown at him. “Are you trying to brainwash me?”
“Of course not. I’m trying to help you.” James looks affronted. “I’m no kind of hypnotherapist.”
Ethan tries to hide a smile behind his pint, but his eyes give him away. Then he gives me a wry look. “I’m sorry, Theo. It’s a complicated situation for sure, becoming the Danish?—”
“Shh,” I say quickly, in case the specter of Aidan or some other tabloid-spilling eavesdropper has manifested in the corners, just waiting to discover I’m now the very likely future Danish King, even though we have the room entirely to ourselves, and the bar staff have always been very discreet. Not only with us, but there are plenty of celebs who stop in, and they do an admirable job in defending the privacy of their guests. Yet, something twists in my stomach. Freja’s secret is still a secret.
For now.
“Listen,” I tell James, raising my hands in surrender. Time to compromise to appease him. I need to try with the decoy, as James keeps pointing out, because time is running out. Stef, at least, has been clear about where he stands. “I’ll at least talk to Eddie this week, okay?”
