The next morning before breakfast, I sneaked out before anyone was up and stared hard at what I now called my impenetrable forest. Like the fairy tale about a princess who got too much beauty sleep. I could use three impish fairies right now to get their groove on. Help me get over this bad case of nerves and that woman stalking me so I could nail it on the silks. But whatever happened, magic would only get me so far.
I was on my own up there. Under the big tent.
And if I lost my focus, something could go terribly wrong.
I needed some fresh air and to figure things out for myself. About me, about Ricco. A tiny spark of hope still burned in me that everything Sloan said about the count wasn’t true. That an overzealous PR person delighted in playing up Ricco’s love life for the tabloids. What worried me was that a man like him had women lined up for picking like hot cakes on the griddle.
And I didn’t want to get burned.
I left Emma snuggled under the covers, a soft humming coming from her lips as it often did when she thinks no one’s listening. I know she can speak if she wants to, but I never push her. Not even when I’m fricking scared and mad at her at the same time. When I went upstairs last night after my heart to heart with Sloan, she was already asleep. Or so she pretended. I let it go, cooling off before I said something I shouldn’t. No doubt that woman with the floppy hat got under my skin. Emma knew it, too, but she chose not to talk about it.
I was shocked to see the room in disarray. Our suitcases sat on the luggage racks open. Clothes spilling out. Spangles and sequins lay scattered everywhere. As if Emma tore through everything looking for something. Had to be the scarf she gave to the stranger.
That’s not my sister. At home, she organized every space in her workroom for efficiency. Small, square boxes filled with buttons and ribbons sat lined up on the shelves so she could make the costume repairs, whether it was replacing missing sequins or fixing ripped leotards.
The thought rolled through my mind that I was overdoing it with her. Wanting to know everything she did, keeping tabs on her. She wasn’t a child. Sometimes at home, I’d catch her stopping her sewing machine or putting down her sketch pad and looking at me with sad eyes. When I’d ask her what was wrong, she’d sign, Nothing, let out a breath, and then go on with what she was doing.
We were close, really close as sisters could be, but I sensed sometimes she thought I was too protective. Hovering over her 24/7. She was right. I am protective. If anything happened to her, I’d die.
Surprisingly, as I started my walk, the early morning was pink and gray and had turned chilly. More surprising, a light rain misted over the trees, making them glimmer. I wondered if the storm clouds I’d seen yesterday would be uninvited guests to the festival. I took a chance anyway and headed toward the woods.
I needed time to think.
About Ricco, about what I’d gotten myself into. What Sloan said. My whole fantasy shattered like I’d stepped on the evil queen’s magic talking mirror and broken it into a million pieces. Yet I couldn’t believe Ricco was anything like what she said.
Or was it because I didn’t want to?
Her strong words made me want to give up the assistant job. Cowardly? Yes, but safe. And safe sounded good to me right now.
A sigh of frustration erupted from my throat. No, I couldn’t do that to him. He was depending on me. Maybe I was a fool to go through it, but I was a happy fool when I was with him. No matter what gossip I heard, I’d never forget how he was with the children.
And Emma.
Sloan had to be wrong about him. Just plain wrong. I wouldn’t think anything else.
Just when I thought I had it together, a rustling sound grated on my ears and a funny feeling slithered up my spine. Was it that woman again?
I swiveled around and half expected to see her staring at me from under that floppy hat I was beginning to hate. I’d never seen two more sorrowful fake flowers. Pink and yellow. Faded and shabby. For a moment, I had to feel sorry for her. Emma was right. She didn’t have anything pretty anymore, but that didn’t excuse her from stalking me or getting chummy with a teen girl who was too nice to strangers for her own good.
As if I needed an excuse not to like her, I reminded myself that I couldn’t see her face, which made me even more suspicious of her intentions. Whatever, she had a knack for twisting me up inside. I had no choice but to confront her and be done with it. I suspected she was the woman who had approached Emma at the train station. Enticed her to wander off with her sob story. Then she followed me that day along the path. She didn’t try to hide her presence, flaunted it actually, but she was holding back something and it bugged the heck out of me.
What did she want from me?
Or was it my sister she was after?
Was she daring me to stop her?
No, your emotions are on edge. You’re falling in love and you know you can’t. So you’re imaging this crazy woman having some weird fascination with Emma. It’s all in your mind, get over it.
I couldn’t.
“I know you’re watching me, signora,” I called out. I heard nothing but a flurry of birds seeking shelter in the trees, settling in, the leaves rustling. I waited, my stomach churning. I called out again, “Come out, Little Red Riding Hood. No more games.”
Nothing . . . then footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, like she wanted me to hear her.
Panic shot through me. My palms got sweaty. Like the time I lost my grip on the aerial hoop and could barely hold on.
“Would the Big Bad Wolf do instead?” a sexy male voice growled behind me. I swiveled around and saw Ricco standing there, a hunk in wolf’s clothing.
“What are you doing here?” I said, relieved.
“Your sister Emma told me I’d find you here.”
“Emma?” I said, confused. “She was asleep when I left.”
“I found her in the kitchen making hot cocoa.”
So she did hear me, but she didn’t stop humming. Interesting. That was so unlike Emma. It worried me. What else was she up to that she wasn’t sharing with me? I suspect she knew I went out to find the woman she gave the scarf to and ran downstairs to look out the window.
“By the way,” Ricco continued without missing a beat, “have you tried Signorina Du Pré’s apricot cream cakes?” He smacked his lips. “Delizioso!”
“Don’t try to change the subject, Ricco, why are you here?”
He gritted his teeth and I could tell by the shift of his posture that he had something to say. “I came over early this morning to go over last minute instructions with you for the magic show.” I met his gaze and knew he had something on his mind that both amused and disturbed him. “I also had the pleasure of getting an earful from Signorina Harcourt. She had some scandalous things to say about me.”
“Are they true?” I couldn’t help myself, plunging right into something that was none of my business, but that didn’t stop me.
He heaved out a breath. “You must understand, bella, I am a magician. I create illusions.”
“Are you telling me that dumping a Russian princess was an illusion?” I asked, my throat tight.
“I have known many beautiful women, including Princess Svetlana.”
I released a deep breath I didn’t even know I was holding, praying for an answer I didn’t get. “Then what Sloan told me was true. You create one scandal after another. Women are like dominoes to you. One falls into your arms and then the next, and so on.” I brought up his magic trick, knowing that would sting his ego. It did. He cringed. “Am I next in line?
“I knew when I first saw you were different, Afton. You were so intent on your mission to find your sister.”
I began to see the humor in the situation. A fairy tale gone amuck. Like the Ugly Stepsister getting the prince. “And you expect me to believe you? Tell me more.”
“You captured my heart that day, the way you wouldn’t give up until you found her. Your stubbornness is very appealing to me, along with your sense of loyalty to family. I don’t often find those traits in the women who throw themselves at me.”
“Oh? So now it’s their fault you’re a rogue?”
He took my hands in his and I wanted to fall into his embrace, but I held strong. “I have my reasons for what I’ve done, cara mia. I’m not yet at liberty to talk about Princess Svetlana without betraying her trust. I must admit I try the patience of my mother with my adventures. Since my father died, she’s been on an endless quest to secure me a wife.”
A little bird tweeted in my head. Sloan. I freaked. Mentioning his family was just a coincidence, wasn’t it? After her detailed analysis of what to expect from a royal courtship, I treaded carefully into the unknown. “I imagine you have a big, roomy castle?”
“Si, it’s called Castello Verdi.”
“And a gallery with all your handsome and dashing ancestors staring down at every pretty girl you bring home?”
He cocked a brow. “How did you know?”
I smiled like a fat cat with big, white teeth. “A little birdie told me.”
“My sister Marianna is also guilty of trying to find me a wife,” he said with a grin. “She set up my profile up on an online dating site. The server crashed from so many views. I made her take it down.”
“You have a sister?”
“She turns eighteen next month.”
I nodded. “Now I understand why you were so good with Emma. You’ve had experience.”
“I know how to handle the female sex, but you, signorina, are different. You mystify me.”
“Is that good?” I wanted to know.
“Very good. I have been hoping to meet a woman who is fun and ambitious, but also has strong family values. Do you have a large family back in the States?”
“No, it’s just Emma and me.” I didn’t elaborate. That my dad died because he was an alcoholic, or that I haven’t seen my mother since she skipped out when I was eleven. Maybe I should have. It would put a damper on his big royal speech, one I’m sure he’s given a million times.
“Your parents are dead. I’m sorry.”
“Reading my mind again?”
He shook his head. “I don’t have to. I can see it in your eyes. But there’s something else, too. Something you keep hidden. I saw it when I watched you working out on the silks. Your passion and determination to be the best, your attention to fine detail in your art, as if you have to prove you’re worthy to perform the aerial arts. That’s why you came to Monterra.”
“Then you can read minds.”
“I wish I could, bella, but I do know one thing.”
“Yes?”
“Whatever has angered you so much will also hurt you. Let it go, and be the great artiste you are without carrying around so much pain inside you.”
“You don’t know anything about me or my mother,” I blurted out without thinking, my cheeks reddening. My heart raced. Now that I’d let the genie out of the bottle, I couldn’t shove her back in. “She left us, left me, and I’ll never forgive her for that.”
“She was a circus performer, am I correct?”
“Yes, Corrina Pova, queen of the air. How did you—”
“I watched how you look down when you enter the ring, making sure you enter with your right foot first. And how you never sit with your back to the ring.”
Both were old circus superstitions that bring bad luck. So he was watching me. Should I be angry or flattered?
I stared him down. “How did you know?”
“I’ve performed my illusions in circuses all over Europe,” he said, teasing me, knowing he’d hit a nerve. “I know their ways. I’ve always admired the hardworking people who toil under the big top. Their loyalty to each other. That loyalty is the glue that holds the circus together.” Ricco’s dark, magical eyes bored into mine. “I imagine you’re just like her. Your mother would be so proud of you if she could see you perform on the silks.”
“She never will, so I’m done with it. Done with her,” I said, my body so hot, I couldn’t stand it. How dare he bring up my mother and open those wounds all over again? It never occurred to me I was the one who’d opened my mouth first. My carefully numbed feelings, the ones I’d kept pushed down inside me for years, exploded all at once. My mom always said I had a natural grace you couldn’t teach, but if I wanted to be an aerialist, I’d have to work harder than I ever imagined. I did, but she didn’t stick around long enough to see me perform. That still hurt. Every. Day. I often wonder if she regretted abandoning us. Most likely, she hadn’t thought about Emma and me in years.
Every cell in my brain went into overdrive. I knew it was useless to go there, bring up her image in my mind, but I did it anyway. Her caring smile when I fell off the swing and she wiped the dirt off my skinned knee. How she made me feel better with her kind words. How she laughed when she saw me standing on my tiptoes, trying to be tall like her. Then she showed me how to blow kisses to the audience.
Yes, I hated what she did, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t stopped thinking about her, though I’d never admit it to anybody. I wished every day I could change the past. Make my mom come home. So I built up this wall around me to protect myself.
And now Ricco was tearing it down, stone by stone.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said. “It’s not easy for a young girl to grow up without a mother.”
“That’s why I’ve tried so hard to be a mom to Emma, but I’m afraid someone will hurt her.” I breathed out. Our mother couldn’t hurt us anymore, but someone else could. I didn’t tell him about the stalker, though I wanted to. That would put me back on his side of the court if I asked for his help again after I tried so hard to be strong and resist him.
“None of that changes the way I feel about you,” Ricco said, his voice a whisper. “All I’m asking for is that you give me the opportunity to redeem myself.”
“I’d like to, Ricco, but I have Emma to think about. We’re on our own.”
“Then let me help you. I meant what I said about my feelings for you. I’d hope to convince you to stay in Monterra after festival week so we could get to know each other better.”
“Then what? After I lose my job and you dump me, then where do I go? Living on the street and asking for handouts? No, thanks. I’m here to perform for Their Royal Highnesses and I’ll do my best to make Princess Katherina proud of me. I owe her so much after she arranged for Emma to come with me and paid for her expenses. I won’t let her down.”
He raised a brow. “The princess never mentioned that to me.”
“I’m sure she has her reasons, but it doesn’t matter. I’m proud to be here and to represent my country. And don’t worry, I’ll be your assistant like I promised. I want the festival to be a success.”
“I won’t let you go, cara mia, you know that.”
“You have to. It won’t work between us and you know it.”
“Love is like magic, Afton, it will work if you believe.”
“Well, I don’t believe. I can’t. My life is planned and that’s how it is.”
He exhaled. “You’re an extraordinary woman, Signorina Afton Lane, and I won’t stop trying to win your heart.”
“Nice try, Ricco. I enjoyed our short-lived romance, but I’m too smart for your tricks. I’ve heard all about how you royals play the game. I’m a South Philly girl, not a pampered princess. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go rehearse.”
I turned on my heel and left him standing there. I almost expected him to wave his hands and disappear. I didn’t buy his story about him liking me, really liking me. Like I said, I’m a nobody and nobodies don’t get to play in the same sandbox with royals. The fairy tale just ended. Here and now.
Then why did I hurt so? And why did I feel like I wanted to cry?
I couldn’t let go of the sad feeling I had when I headed for the festival grounds. I went over every word, every stupid thing I said to Ricco, and why oh why did I mention my mother? I never told anyone how I felt about her leaving us. How I punched my pillow at nights because I hurt so much inside. I’d cry myself to sleep, thinking about how she didn’t care enough about us to send a postcard. Or an email. She had to be dead. I never heard from her, not even after Dad died. Not once did she try to contact me.
I tried to play it off that I didn’t care, but I was about to give the most important performance of my life and she wasn’t here to see me. That tore a hole in my soul. I know she loved me, loved Emma and my dad. I clung to that part of my life like it was a story in an old book of fairy tales. And yes, I couldn’t help it, but in spite of her leaving us, I still loved her. And missed her every day. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her. She was my idol and I couldn’t forget that. But I will never, never forgive her.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
My heart was pumping madly. My face hot and sweaty. Wow. It just hit me how overwhelming my emotions were toward my mother, how they affected me. Was Ricco right? Was the baggage I’d carried around since I was a kid so heavy it was hurting me? Hurting Emma?
I couldn’t let it. The show must go on. Tomorrow was my big day. I was the final act of the evening before the grand circus finale. Everyone expected me to give a spectacular performance.
The heat of pre-show excitement escalated through me as I wiped rainy mist from my eyes.
No, they were not tears. I refused to cry.