I held Roman in the crook of my arm and accepted Leo’s hand as he helped me exit the limo.

“You nailed the family meet and greet,” he said. “Everyone loves you. As much as I’d love to come up, we should probably both get a good night’s sleep before the craziness starts tomorrow.”

“More craziness?”

“You have the itinerary.”

“What itinerary?”

“I’ll see it’s messaged to you promptly. Off the top of my head, you’re scheduled to pay a visit to the orphanage, then we get our official engagement picture taken in the palace’s rose garden. After that you’re to select wedding flowers, bridesmaid dresses, and have your first fitting. Then cocktails with the Duke and Duchess of Cambria. And onto the next day.”

“There’s so much to do.” I said a silent prayer of thanks that I was but a stand in for Cici. That this was her life and not mine.

“Life of a soon to be Princess of Bellèno,” he said. “Unfortunately, because of the business arrangement, we’re on a super tight time schedule.”

“Right,” I said. “But no one’s really explained the arrangement to me.”

“That’s the least of your worries, but I’ll add that to the itinerary,” he said. “You were wonderful today. No one could have done better. I’m so proud of you.” He pulled me close, hugged me and kissed me again. “I’m getting used to this engagement. I think I might be the marrying kind after all.”

“Congratulations, fiancé,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for everything, Leo. A girl couldn’t have asked for a more special day.”

---

Queen Cheree was true to her word. Every piece of puppy paraphernalia had been delivered to the Fontaine condo. Kibble, treats, and wet food were stocked and stacked in the pantry, along with a box filled with scoop bags and puppy toys. Roman’s crate was set up in my bedroom.

I scrubbed the makeup off my face and changed into cotton boxer pjs and a lacy tank top. I made my way into the kitchen and fed Roman. A text came in from Lord Angus.

“How’d the royal meet and greet go?”

“Good,” I texted back. “Where are you?”

“Business. I’ll be home late. Helga’s off tonight. You’ve got the place to yourself. Maybe invite the Ladies over?”

“Maybe. See you when you get here.”

Roman explored the penthouse balcony and I phoned Cartwright with an update. “Cici is getting married in less than two weeks. I’m planning her wedding, which doesn’t thrill me, and probably not her either. Most girls want to plan their own nuptials. Tell me she’s cool with this.”

“Two weeks?” he said. “They’re rushing it.”

“It’s because of the contracts—which you all didn’t fill me in on—but I’ll find out more tomorrow.”

“I know the basics, Vivian. I don’t know the there-there. I’m hoping my physical therapist will clear me for flying in a couple of days. In the meantime, Zara—”

“Zara’s not coming,” I said. “She texted Esmeralda and said she was on va-ca.”

“She doesn’t want to tell Esmeralda she’s helping the real Cici. Pat yourself on the back. You’re doing an excellent job impersonating Catherine.”

“But I’m not doing an excellent job, Cartwright. Esmeralda suspects I’m more interested in Max than Leo. Max’s taken up with Leo’s ex.”

I scooped up some puppy poop that Roman had deposited in a flower box, and dropped the bag into an outdoor trash bin. “And Queen Cheree gave me a puppy.”

“The Queen gave you a puppy?”

“Yes.”

“You are golden with the royal family. But remember, that technically it’s Catherine’s puppy.”

I frowned. “Break—king—up.. Break—sorry.”

I hung up and eyed Roman. “You might just be mine for a few weeks, buddy, but we’re going to have fun.” I threw the ball for him.

He raced after it, brought it back and dropped it a yard away from me. I reached for it and tossed it again. He brought it back and dropped it in front of me, wagging his entire back end.

“Good boy, Roman!”

I pitched the ball again, but my throw was off, and it lodged in the mesh above the fence.

Roman raced to the enclosure and barked.

I pressed a finger to my lips. “Shh! You don’t want to wake up the neighbors.” I made my way to the fence and stood on tiptoes, but I couldn’t reach the ball. I dragged a patio chair across the concrete until it was flush against the enclosure, climbed onto it and extricated the toy.

The netting split faster than a celebrity marriage. My arm plunged through it and then my shoulder. Suddenly the bottom half of me was on the balcony, the top half hanging off the edge. I blinked at the twinkling lights twenty-five floors below.

“Je-friggin-crap!” I pinwheeled my arms backwards, squeezed my legs around the chair and sucked in my core.

Roman barked.

I pulled myself back onto the roof, crawled off the chair, and collapsed on my back on the cool concrete. My heart raced and I rasped for breath. Roman jumped on top of me and licked my face.

I remembered the death threat and panicked. I plucked my phone out of my pocket and dialed. But all I heard was heavy breathing. “Esmeralda!” I screamed. “Answer your damn phone!”

“I’m in the middle of…”

“You bet your fine Spanish ass you are. Hang up,” a guy said in the background.

“I think someone just tried to kill me,” I said.

“Oh my God! Where are you?” Esmeralda asked. “Are you okay?”

“The condo. Yes, I’m okay.”

“I’m calling the police.”

“Don’t. Maybe it was just a freak accident. I don’t want this on the news.”

“What happened?” She asked.

“The security mesh surrounding the penthouse terrace split wide open. I almost fell twenty-five floors.”

“Yikes. I’m sending reinforcements and I’m on my way. Do you need to hide? I have this strange feeling you might need to hide for a couple of days.”

I glanced at the jagged rip in the protective netting.

“Hiding would be awesome.”

---

Esmeralda and her pal, Sergeant Laurent, an off-duty palace guard, arrived twenty minutes later. They quickly collected clothes and toiletries, threw them into a few bags, grabbed some puppy essentials, and checked Roman and me into a two-bedroom junior suite at the elegant Hotel St. Luce.

“You’ll be safe here, Lady Fontaine,” Sergeant Laurent said.

“Thank you. I’m probably over-reacting.”

“The Bellèno Secret Service are examining the condo,” he said. “My sources say it’s a distinct possibility the mesh was sabotaged.”

Esmeralda glanced at him. “I’m staying here tonight with Cici.”

“No partying. I need to sleep!”

“And sleep you will,” Esmeralda said. “I slipped half an Ambien in your drink back at the penthouse.”

“That’s why I feel woozy?”

“That and all your adrenaline wore off.”

“Does Papa know?”

“Yes. We called him. I also alerted Leo.”

“Crap. Don’t let him come here…”

“Lady Bea told him you requested privacy. He wanted to know if they needed to cancel your itinerary for tomorrow.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve heights, I’m good to go.”

“You’ve got the orphans at 11 a.m. and they can be a demanding bunch. You need to bring your A game. Nighty night.”

---

I slept like the dead that night after someone tried to kill me. I woke refreshed for the first time since I landed in Bellèno. I talked on the phone with Lord Fontaine, whom I now called, ‘Papa’. He felt horrible about the incident and was worried about me.

I’m fine, Papa. Most likely just a mechanical malfunction.”

“Best to be safe, Cici,” he said. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

I texted Leo and told him I was good to go. I’d phone Mr. Cartwright later.

---

The Bellèno Secret Service stepped out of their cars ahead of me at The Holy Cross Orphanage. The head of the security detail, Sergeant Tomas, gave me the all clear and I exited the town car wearing the chaste blue, below-the-knee dress I’d been drawn to earlier. Lady Bea accompanied me.

“I’m nervous,” I said. “I don’t know that much about kids.”

“Then thank your lucky stars I’m here with you. I know a lot. Kids cry and puke and complain. They’re darling, do adorable things, and you fall completely, utterly in love with them. And then they do something ornery and mean, like telling their younger sister she was adopted,” Bea said. “Kids are the best. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to mother.”

“That’s your super power,” I said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Esmeralda said my Ladies-in-Waiting have super powers. That’s yours. You’re a great mom!”

I greeted the orphans and talked with them. Well actually I didn’t do a lot of talking. Instead, I listened.

“And then one day, Mama just died and no one could find my father,” one little redheaded boy said. “My aunt didn’t want me. She said she had more than enough kids. So they sent me here.”

“That’s horrible,” I said. “My mom died too. My name’s Cici. What’s yours?”

“Peter.”

“What do you want to be when you grow up Peter?”

“I want to be a palace guard.”

“I’m friends with a palace guard. Do you want me to introduce you?”

“Oh ma’am!” Peter exclaimed. “That would be the best!” He hugged me hard.

I heard clicks and pops of the cameras, as the paparazzi captured the moment.

---

Next on the itinerary: official palace engagement photos.

My hair was coiffed by a hair stylist who didn’t call me a phat bitch. A professional makeup artist did my makeup. An assistant helped me change into a silk suit for Leopold and Cici’s official engagement portrait shot by a determined photographer.

After an hour of hearing:

“Please tilt your chin up, Lady Fontaine?”

“Pull in your tummy a bit, Lady Fontaine?”

“Well done Prince Leopold. It seems you just can’t take a bad picture.”

I wouldn’t mind if I was ever in the spotlight again.

And then there was the trying-on-of-the-Wedding-Gowns-and-Bridesmaid-Dresses Event held in one of the smaller palace ballrooms. In attendance were a dozen servants and assistants, two seamstresses, one photographer, two designers who’d flown in at the last minute from London and Milan, and my Ladies-in-Waiting.

Bea’s girls, Diana and Violet, ran around the room playing hide and seek. The event was catered. No BBQ this time. Finger-foods, sparkling water and a little bubbly. The assistants helped me and the ladies try on gown after gown.

“I can’t believe someone might have tampered with the fence,” Queen Cheree said. “We were frantic with worry, but Lady Joan texted and said you were safe and sound and staying with Esmeralda.”

“My Ladies take such great care of me,” I said. “Thank you for the prompt security.” I searched for Joan in the crowd. “Hey, Joan Brady!”

“What?” she asked as an assistant zipped her into a gown.

“You’re a barrister, a smart girl. I think I should put you in charge of vetting proper bridesmaids dresses.”

She waved her hand. “The other Ladies will have my head!”

“Talk your way out of that. Your superior communication skills and finesse at negotiations might be your Ladies-in-Waiting Super Power!”

She laughed. “Are you staying at the hotel? Or has security cleared you to return home?”

“Hotel, for now. The suite’s lovely. And it’s so close to the palace. There are so many things to finish.”

“Yes,” Queen Cheree said. “But will you be safe?”

“Your Royal Highness.” Esmeralda curtseyed. “My recommendation, if you don’t mind?”

She nodded.

“Stop worrying. Cici’s Ladies-in-Waiting will take care of the details.”

Another hour ticked by while I tried on a hundred dresses and despised eighty of them. I was deep inside a gown. I felt like I was drowning in tulle, and my skin felt prickly and hot.

“I love that frock,” Bea said. “You look sexy and enchanting.”

“I look like a heat rash exploded.”

“Help her out of that one, please,” Joan said. “That one is not the dress.”

---

We finally picked the gown. It was beautiful. It wasn’t really me but I think it probably was Cici. Considering she’d be the one walking down the aisle, that’s really all that mattered.

As for picking the bridesmaid dresses, that was a different story. Esmeralda wanted a gown cut low in the bodice to show off her cleavage. Bea desired a fitted dress to display her petite figure. Joan preferred something sleeveless to show off her toned arms that she’d spent hours sculpting at the gym. I let them figure it out. I needed to pick my battles.

This was the most difficult day since I’d applied for the part-time job. All the gowns and fabrics and finery. All the negotiating over blush pink versus ecru, white and inlaid pearls and hints of lace and neckline dilemmas. Except for the thigh high, tightly pinching pleather boots, I suddenly longed for the life of your average Southside Chicago cocktail waitress; especially one who worked at a biker bar called Mugshots.

I glanced at my watch. There was a seven-hour time difference between Bellèno and Chicago. I missed Lola and Uncle Florio so much I practically hallucinated they were in the room.

“I’ll be right back,” I said. “Must freshen up.”

“I’m coming with you,” Esmeralda said.

“No, no. Some things a girl has to do in private.”

“You never had to do that in private before,” she said. “I need to talk to you about the thing. Besides, whatever it is, you’ve always done it in front of me before. Remember that time in Morocco…”

“Morocco was the exception to the rule,” I said. “Back in a few. Tell Bea to try on the gown she liked with the lace cutouts. I command you, Lady Esmeralda.”

“Now you sound like the old Cici,” she said and smiled.

I exited the ballroom and paced down a few corridors until I found an empty hallway. I lowered myself gingerly to the floor, leaned against a wall, pulled my phone from my purse and dialed. She picked up.

“I don’t know this area code. You have three seconds to convince me you’re not a telemarketer before I hang up,” Lola said.

“It’s me,” I said. “Cici. I mean Vivian.”

“Vivian?”

“Yes! Yay! I’m finally talking to you. How are you? I miss you.”

“The kid’s kicking ass in Little League. I’m cool considering Mark Woodman still runs Mugshots like Stalin ruled Russia. How’s the new job? When are you coming home? Why’d you call yourself Cici?”

“It’s my new nickname. New job’s interesting. I’ll probably be home in two weeks.”

A clip clop of shoes echoed down the marble hallway.

“White Sox might make it to the playoffs,” she said. “You’d kick yourself if you missed that.”

I looked up and saw Max approaching me, a determined look on his handsome face.

“Love you! Must run!” I hung up.

The tips of Max’s shoes butted against mine as he stood over me, practically on top of me. “I had to hear from a palace guard who’s shtupping Esmeralda by the way that you were almost killed last night?” He held out his hand.

“It might have been a simple equipment malfunction, not a murder attempt.” I took his hand and he helped me to my feet. “And the guard’s name is Sergeant Laurent.”

“I know his name. We play poker twice a month. After all we’ve been through, why didn’t you call me?”

“I wanted to. You seemed preoccupied at the palace BBQ.”

“Daira’s not what she seems to be.”

“What does she seem to be?”

“Someone I slept with.”

“You didn’t sleep with her?”

“No.”

“Then why—”

He placed his hands on my shoulders and pulled me close to him.

My hips square against his. My breasts pressed against his chest. My lips were inches from his. My breath quickened. Heat built in my lower abdomen, snaking its way lower, a pulsing beat in the V between my legs.

“You pushed me away, Vivian. You left me alone in the middle of a fucking park. You accepted my brother’s proposal, kissed him, have done God knows what else with him, knowing I was there watching, waiting, wondering about you.”

“You hired me, Max. I’m not the ‘non-prostitute’ desperate girl you employed and trained to impersonate Lady Catherine. Remember the job requirements that I successfully pose as her for a few weeks? Keep your brother interested? I was instructed to flirt with Leo. The only stipulation was to try and avoid getting in the sack with him.”

“Have you?”

“Fuck you. No, I haven’t slept with him. You don’t get to tell me how to do this job, anymore. You’re out of the picture. I’m communicating with Mr. Cartwright, now.”

And then he kissed me. His lips crashed onto mine. One large, firm hand on the back of my head, his fingers intertwining my hair. His tongue explored my mouth. He tasted delicious, intoxicating, and I wanted him.

I wanted him to take off my clothes. I wanted us both to be naked. I wanted to feel him inside me. I missed him inside me. He felt warm, filled me, made me feel safe and loved and protected. But realistically, how long would that last? Eventually we would be interrupted. Life would return to the indisputable fact that he was a prince and I was an American commoner, a mere cocktail waitress. Prince Maximillian Cristoph Rochartè of Bellèno was someone who was out of my league. Someone who would always be out of my league.

He stopped kissing me and stared into my eyes. “The pawn doesn’t get to tell the player how The Crown Affair plays out.”

“You might have set The Crown Affair in motion, Max, but it’s out of your hands now, buddy. It’s flying free. I’ve got to get back. I’ve got to sign off on the wedding dress.” I shimmied out of his grasp but his hand landed on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

“Look at me.”

I turned and stared up at him. His hazel eyes were intoxicating, his lips so full, his gaze mesmerizing.

“Tell me I mean nothing to you,” he said, pulling me to him. “Tell me you don’t care about me anymore. Tell me you’re over me once and for all and I will leave you alone. I need to hear you say it.”

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

“Just tell me, Vivian. You’ve got to say it out loud. Or I’m not sure I can let this go. I’m not sure I can let you go.”

“I, I, I…”

Esmeralda poked her head around the corner and frowned. “Max! Funny running into you here. I was just going to ring you.” She beckoned. “Cici, the designers are anxiously awaiting your final decision about the inlaid pearls for your bodice. Overnight weddings don’t plan themselves you know.”

I slipped out from under Max’s hands and backed down the corridor, passing Esmeralda.

“I’m not letting this go,” he said.

“You have to.”

“What were you thinking?” Esmeralda hissed.

“I’m claiming my moment,” I whispered.

“What moment is that, Vivian?”

I stopped in my tracks. Like, seriously. I froze. Esmeralda knew. She absolutely knew. Oh crap. My cover was blown.

---

Esmeralda and I ditched the rest of the ladies. We holed up in a corner of a dive coffee shop on the outskirts of St. Luce and sipped from steaming cups of tea.

“How’d you find out?” I asked.

“You haven’t been the same since you got back. Close, but not the same. I called Zara and told her about how you dodged a possible murder attempt. She’s your, I mean-Cici’s best friend after all and I thought she should know. She broke down and told me they hired and trained you to impersonate Catherine for a couple of weeks until she concluded her business in the States.”

“That nails it. Was Zara the least bit upset that someone might have tried to kill me?”

“Like Cici, she’s always been a little icy,” Esmeralda said. “In spite of all these years and our adventures I still can’t quite get a read on either of them. Kudos, by the way, on being the best princess impersonator ever. I hope Cici’s paying you a royal arm and a leg.”

“The pay’s decent. My Uncle Florio’s in Assisted Living. The money I earn from this job will be spent keeping him there.”

“Good. Or I’ll kick Cici’s entitled ass when she gets back here. I like you. You’re a decent girl.”

I smiled. “Are you pissed that I fooled you?”

“For a second. Until I figured out you’d fallen for Max. Where is he in all of this?”

“What do you mean I fell for Max?”

“It’s obvious,” Esmeralda said. “You might as well be wearing a T-shirt that says, ‘I fell for Prince Max.’ in huge letters.”

“It is not that obvious,” I said, wondering how obvious it really was. “You’ll have to ask him where he is in all of this. Are you going to out me to the rest of the Ladies?”

“Nah. This is all too interesting to spill the beans. I might write a tell-all some day. I’ve always wanted to write a book and this would make a good one.”

Maybe I did need to keep my feelings closer to the vest. Especially around Leo.