Gamble on Engagement (7 page)

~~~

I was startled awake by a shocking noise,
blaring loudly from somewhere in the dark.

After I bolted upright, screaming and
brandishing my… well, what turned out to be a very non-lethal bath
towel that I had scrunched up, pretending I was cuddling Jake. I
did not fully understand where I was or why it was so dark. It took
me several seconds to remember I’d put on one of those cute little
sleeping masks with eyelashes embroidered on, compliments of the
hotel, and that the blood-curdling noise was actually my cell
phone, alerting me to a call.

I flung the eye mask off, feeling around
frantically for the phone, cursing myself for not leaving it nicely
on the night table like I should have. Of course, I hadn’t planned
on a middle of the night call, but still.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” came Jake’s sexy voice from the other
end of the line. “I’m sorry it’s so late.”

“That’s okay,” I said, still half in a daze.
“I want to always talk to you, no matter how late it is.”

“You were sleeping.”

“Is it that obvious?” I asked. I set my bath
towel slash ‘deadly weapon’ down on the bed, not sure who I was
trying to kid.

Jake just chuckled. “I’ve been missing you
like crazy,” he said.

And of course I couldn’t help but smile,
cuddling back down into bed and feeling more content than I ever
remembered being. “Me too. I can’t wait to see you.”

There was a bit of a pause. After a few
seconds, I sat back up, feeling that something was wrong.

Jake cleared his throat. “That’s kind of why
I’m calling. It’s looking like I’m not going to be able to fly out
as soon as I hoped,” he said.

I could literally feel my heart dropping out
of my body.

Okay, not literally, that would be
gross.

After my extremely unsatisfactory call with
Miranda earlier, I certainly did not need any more bad news. “Are
you serious?” I said, trying not to sound too whiny.

I’m pretty sure it didn’t work.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quickly. “It’s just
that the shoot isn’t going well, and well… my costar is kind of new
to the whole acting thing and needs way more of the director’s time
than usual. It’s going to last at least a few weeks longer than we
thought.”

I groaned. I mean, I tried not to, but it
just came retching out. “I have to be here all by my lonesome for
an extra few weeks?” I wasn’t even trying to hide the whiny-ness
anymore.

“I know it sucks, believe me, I want nothing
more than to come and see you.”

I sighed. “I know.”

“Seriously Josie, just think how great it
will be when we do see each other again.”

“I’m going to forget what you look like by
then.”

He laughed. “I doubt that.”

“I guess I can always just watch one of your
movies. Of course, you’re always kissing other girls in those
movies.”

I could practically hear him cringe from the
other side of the ocean. “Please, do not do that. I want you to
always remember that I’m with you. Not some silly actress.”

“I’m sure not all actresses are silly,” I
said, though secretly thrilled that he actually thought I was less
silly than… well, I’d be happy if it was anyone really. In my mind,
I’d always been about as ridiculously silly as a person can
get.

“Believe me, some of these shoots are no
picnic.”

“Ah yes, life as a movie star. Such
sacrifice,” I said, smiling.

He chuckled again. “Just go back to sleep. I
promise, I’ll call you soon.”

“Okay,” I said. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Josie,” he said, and I just
couldn’t help but love the way he said my name.

~~~

I sighed as I packed my last, unused
swimsuit into the crammed suitcase, feeling ridiculous for having
packed so much in the first place. Especially for my epic stay of
one whole night, since, in order to get back to London on time, I’d
have to take the train that night and check back into that hotel
where I’d told Lance to drop me off.

God, I hoped Miranda wouldn’t ask a bunch of
questions about my research, because believe me, there was not that
much available on the Internet about Leo’s school years. I’d found
a couple articles about sports achievements, but that hardly gave
me an insight about what the real Leo was like.

I heaved the suitcase off the bed and pulled
it along as I said goodbye to one of the most beautiful rooms I had
ever stayed in. Prince Leo did have good taste, that was for
sure.

Just as I was about to step out of the room,
something out my patio door caught my eye. Well, actually,
someone.

Prince Leo.

At least, it sure looked like Prince Leo
from where I was standing. I quickly made my way across the room
and flung open the patio doors, shading my eyes with my hand to cut
the glare. I squinted as hard as I could.

I was no world traveler, but I was pretty
sure that Australia was a long way from Spain.

But then the strangest thing happened. The
guy that I was sure was the Prince, at least as far as I could tell
from my hotel room, which, admittedly was quite a ways away,
suddenly turned, as if something had caught his attention from the
other direction. A kid came running up, jumping into his arms like
he was his long lost favorite uncle or something. And then the
woman strolled up behind the kid, and she was one of the most
beautiful, exotic looking women I’d ever seen, you know, except for
in magazines. And maybe even then.

The guy kissed her on the cheek and they
stood smiling at each other for a long time. I looked closer at the
man who, two minutes ago I’d been so sure was Leo. But now I was
questioning how I’d even thought that in the first place. Sure, the
man was a similar height and build to Leo, but that was pretty much
where the similarities ended. This man had hair darker than Leo’s
and he was wearing large aviator sunglasses, so I couldn’t even see
his face that well.

It might have been the way he stood, the way
he walked that made me think of Leo, but now I was just as sure
that it was not him.

Which was weird, right? I mean, why had I
been so sure it was him when I was across the room? Sheesh, I
certainly hoped I wasn’t going to start thinking I was seeing Leo
all over Europe. I mean, I was certainly flattered that he thought
I was good enough to flirt with or whatever it was he’d been doing
since I met him, but seriously, I was head over heels for Jake.

Of course, I could just be paranoid since,
you know, I wasn’t even supposed to be in this country and all, and
one of the only people who could possibly catch me here was Leo.
Yes, that had to be it, just the residual guilt playing tricks on
me.

I shook the thought out of my head as I took
one last look at the beautiful room and went outside to hail a
cab.

I tried to get more research done on the way
back to London, but I was having the hardest time concentrating on
anything. Jake dominated my thoughts of course, but for some
reason, I also could not get the sight of that beautiful woman with
the child on the beach, jumping into the arms of the guy who was
not Prince Leo. It was quite annoying really, since it was messing
with my concentration on trying to find someplace on the web that
might miraculously give a detail or two on the Prince.

But no. Nothing but charitable events,
sports appearances, and a few party scenes in the tabloids, and
even those were mostly older. I sighed. Maybe the people at the
hotel in London would have a good scoop.

I couldn’t help but wonder how on Earth
people were supposed to write biographies anyway. I mean, I had
lots of writing experience, but where the heck do these people get
their information to start with? Especially when the subject is
less than enthusiastic in answering personal questions.

I had no choice, I needed help.

And as I’d done so many times as a kid, I
went to the library for rescue.

Well, after I’d dropped off my luggage at
the hotel, that is, then found out where the library even was,
then, once I got there I had to call Miranda (ugh) to vouch for me
so that I could actually check some books out under the castle’s
address.

I picked the two books that looked most
suited to me:
The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Biographies,
and
Autobiographies for Dummies.

If nothing else, at least I could get a feel
for what format the book needed to be in. For some reason, when I’d
first received the job offer, I had no doubt that I could crack out
a ghostwritten autobiography like it was nothing.

What the hell had I been thinking?

But the two books actually looked pretty
good. I mean, the titles may have made me feel even stupider than I
already was, but there was something to be said for simplicity and
breaking things down into easy, step-by-step instructions.

I spent the rest of the evening reading and
started to actually feel like I might be able to pull this off
after all.

~~~

Until, that is, the next morning when I went
down to grab a coffee at the shop just down from the hotel and saw
a picture of myself lying in a beach chair, looking rather…
vacation-y.

My stomach seized instantly as visions of
that mysterious (a.k.a. creepy) moustache guy popped into my head.
I wanted to scream something along the lines of, “Argh! Foiled
again!” but I decided I probably shouldn’t draw any more unwanted
attention than I already had.

BRIDESMAID VACATIONS ALONE was the
headline.

I skimmed the article, furious that they
were implying that Jake had left me high and dry and I was stuck
all by my lonesome at some romantic getaway. They also warned
people to be wary of betting on me in the now apparently famous
Jake Hall engagement wagering all across the country.

God, these guys would do anything just to
sell a couple of papers.

And apparently people would bet on just
about anything too.

Plus, it was just kind of mean to tell
people not to bet on me. I mean, I was still his girlfriend, after
all. God, what was I saying? I’d only been his girlfriend for like,
a month or so.

And then the real reality of the situation
hit me. The very bad thing about the tabloids was how very public
they are. What if Miranda were to see it? I mean, I didn’t think
Miranda would be a big reader of the tabloids, but I was right
there on the cover! In my bathing suit, no less. I wondered if I
should die first of shame, or fear of being caught. Of course, it
wasn’t one of the most popular tabloids in the country, but still.
Right. There. On. The. Cover.

I quickly paid for the paper and stuffed it
into my bag for future reference. I wanted to get the name of that
weasel in case I spotted him and wanted to confront and/or report
him. I also quickly put on my sunglasses. I had taken to buying the
biggest pairs of them I could find since my whole McMaster the
Disaster fiasco back home. I never wished so bad that I had a hat
in my life.

I was back to the usual driver, I noticed as
the limo pulled up in front of me, and I was surprised that I was
actually a little disappointed. With all the slow driving and
non-stop talking, a guy like Lance could apparently still grow on a
person.

I mean, he was pretty cute with that old man
moustache, after all.

“Thanks,” I said as the driver helped me
into the car and put my suitcase in the trunk, not even making a
face at how stuffed it was for a two night stay.

He got in and pulled away from the curb.

“So, I’m sorry, I was so excited about being
in England and the castle and everything that I completely forgot
my manners and didn’t ask your name the last time,” I said,
wondering if maybe the staff was the way to go to get the real dirt
on the Prince.

The driver smiled, letting me know it was
okay. “I’m Reginald,” he said.

Of course he is, I thought. That’s a very
‘distinguished English driver’ sounding name. “Well, it’s very nice
to meet you… again, Reginald.”

He nodded at me in the rearview mirror,
smiling.

Okay, so, it was going to take a little bit
for this guy to open up to me. No matter, we had a half hour to
kill after all. “So, do you like working for the Prince?”

He nodded again. “It’s a very good job,
indeed.”

I nodded in return. Was this guy going to
give me the shortest answers possible all the way there? I could
tell he was a little uncomfortable with the whole small talk thing,
but I had one more tactic to try. “I imagine it’s quite good except
for Miranda, hey?” His eyes flickered to me in the mirror, feeling
me out. “She’s been nothing but a pain to me since I got here.”

He smiled again. “I know the feeling Miss
McMaster.”

“Please, call me Josie. I’m really not all
that comfortable with all that formal stuff. Unlike Miss Steeves,”
I said in the most hoity-toity voice I could muster.

Reginald finally chuckled, nodding. “Sure
thing, Josie.” He glanced in the mirror again, as if he were still
feeling me out. “Yes, Miranda can be quite the piece of work,” he
said, finally. “She’s rather… high strung.”

I chortled. “You could say that again. She
actually gave me heck for going to London.” I decided to leave the
bit about my going to Spain out of it. “I feel like a little kid
around her. She obviously has some kind of power trip issue.”

“Absolutely. Although you should have seen
the issues before she got here. Not that I’m defending her, I can’t
stand that uppity witch.”

I tried not to let the shock of hearing him
say uppity witch in his cute little English accent show, but I
don’t think I was that successful.

“But she is organized. And that was a huge
improvement over the last couple girls who just took the job so
they could make googley-eyes at the Prince all day.”