Page 48 of The Royal in Room 3

“I’ll call.”

Aaron cleared his throat from the doorway. “As touching as this is, someone shouldn’t be late on their first day on the job.”

Jude shot him a look. “Take care of him.”

Aaron nodded, the playfulness vanishing. “Don’t worry. I will.”

The evening air was cool against my face, carrying the familiar salt of the ocean. Who would have thought I would live so close to the ocean? I loved it here, and it made it bearable to part from the country that had rejected me.

Jude stayed in the doorway while I walked down the porch steps, and I turned once to find him watching us—watching me. I waved as I got into the car, and he waved back. It was harder leaving him than I would have thought. We’d spent so much time together over the past two weeks.

For the first few minutes, Aaron and I drove in comfortable silence. The sun had set a couple of hours ago. Jude and I had watched it from the deck. Now the streets of Headland Bay glowed beneath storefront signs and streetlamps.

“So,” Aaron said eventually, glancing at me. “I take it the arrangement with Jude is going well?”

“It’s great.”

“That convincing, huh?”

I laughed. “No, really. It’s amazing. I’ve had a Daddy before, and he was nothing like Jude. Jude’s the absolute best.”

“You’re nothing to scoff at either. Jude has always been excellent to the angels of Halo House, but he’s always given of himself without taking anything back. This is the first time that he’s allowed himself to want anything from a sub.”

I couldn’t quite hide my smile as I thought about the past week. True to Jude’s words, with every passing day, I got better at helping out around the house. A week ago, I could barely make toast without triggering the smoke detector. Now I had prepared dinner twice and breakfast three times. It wasn’t always perfect, but I was getting there.

Jude had even taught me how bills worked and how to pay them. The financial lessons were even more confusing than cooking. I always knew bills existed, obviously. I wasn’t completely clueless, contrary to my earlier behavior, but in Belvaria, people handled things for me. Electricity arrived, water ran, and phones worked. I had never considered that every ordinary comfort appeared because someone remembered a due date and transferred money to the correct company.

Jude had spread several envelopes across the dining table and explained each one. Utilities. Insurance. Internet. Property tax. He showed me how to read the amounts, check the dates, and pay them online.

I had been appalled by how often people had to spend money just to keep living in a house they already owned. It’d opened my eyes to being more grounded in the present. Of needing to pay attention and be deliberate about living because no one would be handling those things for me again.

A part of me was grateful for how things had turned out. I wish I hadn’t had to go through the betrayal, or losing my title, or moving away, but before those things—before California—I had understood almost nothing about the way most people lived.

I had attended meetings about the economy without knowing what groceries cost. I had spoken publicly about working families while never having cleaned a bathroom or washed my own clothes. I’d been privileged, and I’d taken things for granted.

My life had become smaller in some ways, but the world felt much larger.

The streets became busier as we approached downtown. Music thumped faintly through the closed windows before Club Halo even came into view.

The building occupied nearly half the block, its exterior sleek and dark, with warm gold lighting running around the entrance. A glowing halo-shaped sign hung above the doors. A line had already formed along the velvet ropes, although the club wouldn’t open for another half an hour.

My nerves returned all at once as Aaron pulled up near the staff entrance.

“You ready?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“How’s that good?” I cried.

“It means you care. For what it’s worth, Soren, Phoenix expects you to mess up. This is your first time, but in the same way you can now make eggs without the shells in them, you’ll get the hang of this.”

“I never should have told you about that,” I muttered under my breath.

Phoenix met us just inside, looking as immaculate as always. He was ethereal in a pair of loose white linen pants and a matching long-sleeved shirt. An earpiece sat against one ear, and he held a tablet beneath one arm.

“There you are.” His eyes swept over me. “And looking perfect.”