Sage

My mother was quick to set up the meeting with Marie Dotson. I went along with the idea to appease my father, but it was only to buy time because my mind was already made up.

However, I had my work cut out for me. I needed my parents off my back so I could figure out how to show Everly I’m not who she thinks I am. With the hope that she finds out about this meeting, I dropped a fake line to the press via a friend of mine, saying this girl I’m meeting would be “the one.”

For years we had an understanding with the press; they leave me alone, and we don’t get in the way of them doing business. That understanding was coming to an end, so I used it to my advantage, knowing they’ve been dying for any story they can get on me.

I want everything to be a surprise for Everly so she won’t suspect it’s me when I finally make my move.

Just like I figured, we pull up to the front of the restaurant, and it’s surrounded by photographers and people clamoring to see who I’m choosing as my wife.

After the door is opened for us, my parents put on a show. Dad steps out first and then offers his hand to my mother, something he only does in the presence of other people. Why she puts up with his fake shit is beyond me.

I sit in the car and wait for the crowd to follow them but no such luck. They are all here to see me, so I take a deep breath and put on the megawatt smile I was taught to wear at all times.

I pause at the door, turning to greet them and pose for the million-dollar shot they hope for. The first one I’ve allowed in years.

Questions are shouted from the crowd. “Who is she, Sage? When will you propose? Where have you been? Is she already in there? Is this the first time you’ve met her?”

“We’ll see. But as of right now it seems she’s the one,” I lie, praying my words are taken as truth and repeated for Everly to hear.

When we enter the restaurant, I see exactly what I expected standing next to her mother and father like a puppy. I’m surprised she isn’t drooling and wagging her tail.

The way her royal blue polyester, knee-length skirt with shimmer nude nylons match her button up suit coat, like we’re still in the 1950’s, makes me shake my head. She fits my dad’s mold all right. Not mine though. I want someone who will wear jeans and tennis shoes when need be because we have a job to do. I doubt this chick even owns a pair.

I feel sorry for her, thinking she has a chance. I won’t be a total dick, I’ll tell her before the end of the night, so I don’t keep her hopes up.

“Marie, so nice to meet you.” I offer my hand to hers.

I didn’t know it was possible to physically see a woman swoon, but it totally just happened. I watched as her hand went to her heart before she fanned herself.

In front of me.

Really? I have to force myself not to roll my eyes.

Thank God I found someone who I actually want to get to know with Everly, or I might want to shoot myself right about now. These girls don’t see me. They see the name. I could be an ogre with the worst teeth on earth, and they would still be vying for a chance to be my wife.

“Shall we sit for dinner?” I turn to my parents, hoping they agree.

“No, it’s nice out, let’s go outside and take our time getting to know each other,” Dad replies, and I grit my teeth.

They lead the way as we head outside, and of course, cameras start flashing as soon as we do.

“Son, smile at your future wife. These are your first pictures together.” Dad nudges me toward her.

I play along, placing my hand on her lower back. She glances over at me, pleading to be my wife written all over her face. I nod to her before turning to the camera giving everyone the photo they’re vying for.

Sitting outside was getting to be a little much with the paparazzi, so thankfully, we moved the meeting inside after only a few minutes.

“I hear you’re studying art history, Marie. What’s your favorite era?” Mom asks once we’re served our dinner.

“Romanticism and Mannerism are my two favorites, ma’am.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to have you to the house. We have an original Benjamin West painting that was a portrait of one of Sage’s ancestors when he chose his bride.” She puts her hand on her chest. “What a coincidence for us to speak of that painting at this very moment.”

Marie sighs with delight, and I have to literally pinch my inner thigh to keep myself from exploding with anger. She is far from who I want, and I need to hurry this meeting up so I can set the wheels in motion on winning the heart of the woman I can actually see myself marrying someday.

* * *

Everly

“Woohoo!” I scream into the phone after Jeannine answers.

“Girl, please don’t ever do that again. You scared the bejesus out of me. And I won’t even start on the ringing in my ears now. This better be good.”

“Turn on the TV. Channel three.” I dance around my room, a weight I’ve been carrying my entire life finally gone.

At last, my life is mine and only mine.

The news is covering the royal family meeting with another potential wife for Sage. This is his last choice, and I just saw him say, “She’s the one.”

I hear her click on the television, but her elation never comes. “Hello? Do you see this?”

She sighs. “Yes, I see it.”

“So why aren’t you celebrating with me?”

“I’m bummed.”

“You’re what?” I say in disbelief.

“I know this is what you wanted, but part of me wanted you to marry him so I could be best friends with a princess.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“I’m sorry. I know. I should be happy for you,” her voice softens with every word.

“Yes. You should. I was being forced to marry someone I don’t even know. Are you even hearing this right? How could you be bummed?”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. And I’m happy for you. I really am.”

Now that she’s totally ruined my high, we hang up, and I sit on my bed, thinking back about my meeting with Sage. Yeah, he wasn’t exactly what I thought he would be, but that doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t matter how handsome he is or how he actually seemed interested in what I had to say. I asked him not to choose me, and he respected that. I got what I wanted.

But why is she making me feel otherwise?

I can’t believe she wasn’t happier for me. She’s been by my side through all of this and to learn she was secretly hoping I’d be queen one day, kind of hurts. Am I really the only person who thinks you should marry purely for love and nothing else?

I hear my mom crying and get my answer. She wanted me to marry him more than anything. It breaks my heart to hear her. She doesn't want me to struggle like she did, but I know I can forge my own path.

Now I have to prove to her that he wasn’t the one. I can make something of myself without help from the royal family and do it on my own terms.