• Home
  • Erika Kelly
  • The Reluctant Boyfriend (The Bad Boyfriend series Book 4) Page 8

The Reluctant Boyfriend (The Bad Boyfriend series Book 4) Read online

Page 8


  Griffin gave a deep belly laugh. “You sure you want that asshole around your tourists?”

  “I’m looking for something different, something that’ll draw them in, so yeah. I want him.”

  “He does the best custom paint job on bikes I’ve ever seen. Couldn’t believe he agreed to work here.” Griff cupped his mouth and bellowed, “Jinx.”

  The man pulled off his face shield to give a menacing look, but Griffin and the mechanic just burst out laughing. Finally, the artist threw down his gloves and struck out to meet them.

  He didn’t say a word, just gave Griffin a look that said, What?

  Griff smiled. “Don’t look at me. He’s the one who wants to talk to you.” He tipped his chin toward Brodie.

  “Hey, man.” Brodie shook the guy’s hand. “I’ve got some artisan stalls available in Owl Hoot, if you want to work outside this summer. You could hand out your business card. Should be good for business.”

  A little rough around the edges—with that long hair and ink—Jinx looked like he’d stopped giving a shit a while ago. He had a darkness about him, for sure.

  Griff elbowed him.

  “No. It’d be a pain in the ass to move everything out there. And I wouldn’t want someone to steal my shit.” Jinx started off. “Thanks, though.”

  A car door slammed. “Hey, guys.” Griff’s younger sister, Skylar, sashayed over, flashing Brodie a big smile. “Congrats on your brother’s wedding.”

  “Thanks.” He didn’t miss the way Jinx lingered, his attention fully on Skylar.

  “What brings you out to the shop?” she asked.

  “Well, I came to see if Jinx wanted to work in Owl Hoot this summer, but now that you’re here, I’ve just had another idea. I’d like to hire you.”

  “Ah, Brodie,” she said. “It’s about time you got a make-over. What kind of look are we going for?”

  Griff and the mechanic cracked up, and Brodie smiled. “What’s to improve about this?” Brodie’s hand swept from his head down his T-shirt and jeans-clad body to his black motorcycle boots. “But I do need a social media manager for Owl Hoot to get the word out about the town.” Good thing he hadn’t paid someone to market it before—it hadn’t been ready. It would be now.

  “She’s an image consultant, dude,” the mechanic said.

  Skylar pretended to take a hat off with one hand and put another one on with the other. “And look at that. I’m also a social media manager.” She shrugged. “Hey, I’ve got a toddler. I’ll do anything for a buck.”

  “Great,” Brodie said. “Why don’t you write up a proposal, and we’ll talk about it?” He shook hands with everyone, and when he got to Jinx said, “If you change your mind—”

  Jinx shot a look to Skylar. “You gonna be working over there?”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “I’m in,” Jinx said. “When can I bring my equipment over?”

  After a moment of stunned silence, everyone broke out laughing.

  Except Skylar. She gave him the stink eye.

  “You sure you don’t mind?” Rosalina handed the packing tape to Harrison, who sealed up the last box. She couldn’t believe she was leaving. Not when she’d barely scratched the surface on this project.

  “Not at all.” Brodie glanced at the boxes. “I’ll get them to the post office first thing in the morning.”

  When he looked back at her with a reassuring smile, excitement sizzled in her chest. She couldn’t explain this energy between them. This draw. She wasn’t his type—she couldn’t be. His girlfriend was tall, blonde…a sexy businesswoman. “I shouldn’t have waited until the last minute. I’m sorry about that.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Okay, well, that’s it then.” She glanced back into the kitchen. She’d tossed out the pans and stored the leftover palm oil in the pantry. Not a trace of her enfleurage process left.

  Dread kept her rooted in place. “I’m sad to be leaving.”

  “You’re welcome to stay longer.”

  Oh, she wanted that. So badly. She’d hardly even seen the town. Hadn’t hiked, not once. “I can do the rest of the work at home. Besides, you don’t want me taking up half your bunkhouse.”

  “I don’t mind sharing it with you, princess.”

  She’d never heard that softness in his voice before. Not even with his girlfriend.

  And it stirred up a longing in her she’d never felt before.

  I want more.

  Everything in her resisted walking out that door.

  “You ready?” Harrison said. “We should get going.”

  “Of course. Sure.” She watched him head out but still didn’t budge. “I’m so excited about this. It’ll be great for your spa. I’m already thinking about other products like soap and candles. This is going to be really amazing.”

  “You can always come back, have a hand in designing the store.”

  “I’d love that.” But she knew it wouldn’t happen. She’d been away from St. Christophe too long. “Well.” She didn’t know how to say goodbye to him. “You’ve been so generous, letting me work here.”

  “I stand to gain a lot. Be good, princess.”

  “I always am.” Her phone vibrated, and she dug it out of her tote bag. “I have to take this. It’s my mother. So, I’ll just…say goodbye.” She didn’t know whether to shake his hand or go for the hug. Embracing him would be way too familiar, so she stuck her hand out. “I’ll be in touch.”

  He laughed at her awkward handshake. “Take care.” But she didn’t miss the strange look in his eyes.

  Longing. Did he feel this, too? Of course not. He has a girlfriend. She accepted the call as she headed out the door. “Good morning.”

  “Are you on your way to the airport?”

  “Yes, right now.”

  “Excellent. The sooner you get home the better.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “No, it’s not. But we can discuss it when you get here.”

  “You sound upset.” She stood on the porch, the hot sun on her skin. “Just tell me now. What’s going on?”

  “Channel one just interviewed the head of the People’s Party. Auguste not only discussed his intention to do away with the monarchy but to expropriate our wealth.”

  What? A hot coil of fear skewered through her. “They can’t do that. Our wealth comes from our private business.” House of Villeneuve had nothing to do with St. Christophe.

  “It’s more complicated than that, darling. Our family owns a great percentage of land, and they believe it should ‘go back to the people.’”

  “That’s ridiculous. We didn’t steal it. It wasn’t pillaged. Our ancestors won it in battles.”

  “They can spin it however they like to suit their purposes.”

  “This is terrible.” The driver stood waiting by the car, but she held up a finger. Hang on. She didn’t want to have this conversation in front of Harrison and Gustav. Well, Harrison could hear anything, but Gustav hadn’t worked for her nearly as long. “Can they do that?”

  “Once they have power, they can change the laws. Which is why we must defeat this movement, and the best way to do that is to put your wedding in the forefront of everyone’s mind. I know you’re not going to like this, but the moment you get home, we’re going to send out invitations.”

  “I’m sorry, Mama, but that doesn’t feel right to me. I don’t know that I’m going to marry him.”

  “For heaven’s sake, do you understand what I’m telling you? It’s become more than losing our royal seat, which is certainly bad enough. It’s about taking away everything your ancestors have built and created.”

  “No, of course I understand. I’ll do whatever you need me to.” Now wasn’t the time to argue with her mother. Besides, the wedding was a year away. Anything could happen between now and then. “How’s Father?”

  “He’s doing as well as can be expected. Unfortunately, there’s not much more he can do on his own. He needs your wedding to
show continuity and strength of the monarchy. We must dive right into the preparations.”

  “Okay.”

  “So, you’ll cooperate?”

  “I will.” For now.

  “Good.” The relief in her mother’s voice was palpable. “Are you bringing the dress home with you? Actually, I never heard from you about the fitting. I’ve been so consumed by the vote that I’ve forgotten to ask. I’d hoped to see pictures.”

  “It’s not exactly a joyful time. I hardly feel like celebrating. In any event, we made some adjustments. It looks different on me than it did in the sketches, so there were some things I didn’t care for. Anyhow, let me go so I can get to the airport.” She headed for the car. The driver opened the door, and she set her tote on the seat.

  “Wonderful. I can’t wait to see you.”

  Just before getting in the car, she turned for one last look at the bunkhouse. Brodie stood on the porch, watching her go. Her heart twisted at the thought she’d never see him again. “The first order of business will be hiring a new assistant. I’m coming home with a new project. You won’t believe this, but I’ve found a flower similar to our lyantha.”

  “Oh, that. Yes, I meant to tell you, Marcel told us about the bath and body products.”

  “Can you believe how gorgeous that lotion is? I’m so excited.” But, of course, it was the last thing on her mother’s mind. “We can talk about it later.” She slid into the seat, and the driver shut the door.

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing to discuss. We know how hard you’ve worked on it, and we’re so impressed with your talent. It really does smell exactly like the perfume.”

  Nothing to discuss? Oh, no. No, no, no. “Which is great because you didn’t want to add a new perfume, so I’ve just expanded what we offer. Women want to layer their products. The body wash, the soap, and then the perfume.”

  “Perhaps…” Her mother hedged. “But we’re going to pass. It’s not the right time.”

  “We can talk about it after the vote. You’ve got enough to worry about.” Besides, she’d be busy with her new project for a while. And they obviously weren’t in the right frame of mind to discuss a whole new product.

  At the end of the driveway, they waited for the security gate to open.

  “It’s not about the vote. We met with Marcel and his father, and we’re going to go along with their judgment.”

  “Wait, so we are going to add my bath and body product line?” Because Marcel was definitely on board with her plan.

  “No, darling. Marcel pointed out that sales have gone up three percent a year for the last five years, so he doesn’t think now is the time to add any variables. Businesses come and go, and ours is doing exceedingly well. He suggests we put off this discussion for another year or two.”

  “Another year or two.” Anger flew up and shadowboxed her. It grew hot and stuffy in the air-conditioned town car. “Do you mean after we’re married, when the power’s transferred from your generation to mine, which means Marcel, because women can’t wear the pants in the royal family?”

  “He didn’t say anything like that, but it is fair for him to want to hold off on making any changes until he’s in control. He’s worked alongside his father for years and has an outstanding education…we trust his guardianship of our family’s business.”

  “He cheated on me. He can’t be trusted with anything.” Out the window, she watched the landscape roll by, a world so drastically different from St. Christophe she could hardly believe it existed.

  Marcel had failed her horribly, and it enraged her. He knew what this product line meant to her.

  “He’s not saying no,” her mother said. “Just not right now.”

  “Right. Got it. Not for the next few years, during which I’ll be marrying him, popping out a baby or two, and launching my philanthropy.”

  “That’s the presumption, yes.”

  This plan they were all so keen on would neuter her. It would take away her passion, her career, her agency, and it burned a blazing path of injustice right through the core of her being. She sat quietly, not wanting to take it out on her mother, who’d surely suffered the same frustrations and sense of helplessness.

  But I’m not my mother.

  And I’m only helpless if I give up who I am and fall in line.

  She needed another solution, and she needed it now.

  To get to the private airstrip, they had to cut across a wide swath of meadow bursting with wildflowers. She pressed the button to roll down the window. Eyes closed, she breathed in the sun-baked earth and wildflowers.

  She loved Calamity. The warm, dry air, the valley filled with sagebrush, the violent up-thrust of snow-capped mountains. And the quirky people who loved nature and coveted privacy.

  And she loved this new flower she’d discovered. She wanted—more than anything—to stay in town longer. This partnership with Brodie might be her only chance to turn her dreams into reality.

  But the scariest truth of all? She wanted more time with him. Brodie. Even if nothing ever developed between them, he’d awakened these feelings. She was just so…hungry for them.

  Calamity had uncorked her, and the very best bits of her had come bubbling out.

  I don’t want to lose that. Not yet. “Mama, I’m not coming home.”

  “Oh, Rosalina, you mustn’t punish us for making a business decision. You’ve got so much talent—”

  “I know that, and you’re asking me to bury it.” She shifted the phone away from her mouth to speak to Harrison. “Please ask the driver to take me back to the bunkhouse.”

  “You mean the hotel?”

  Funny, how her every instinct urged her back to Brodie. She shook her head. The bunkhouse. She needed to see his reaction when she told him she was staying in town a little longer. He revealed so little, but if he were as excited as she, it would mean the world to her.

  “Rosalina,” her mother said with urgency.

  “If I come home right now, how many times over the next six weeks would I be in front of the people?”

  “Well, the Jubilee, certainly.”

  “Okay, so the rest of the time I’ll be unseen, in the background.” It won’t matter where I sleep at night.

  “The rest of the time you’ll be attending meetings, choosing which causes you’ll support, launching your philanthropy.”

  She understood, she really, truly did, and she hated to let her parents down. “I love you and Papa so much, and I’ll do just about anything for you and my country.” Anything except give up who I am.

  Fear stomped on her nerves. Am I being too selfish? Or is taking the first step the only way to effect change? “Anything except marry Marcel.” She hated saying the words out loud but knew she had to. “So, we won’t be sending out invitations.”

  “You’re telling me you’re ending the engagement and staying in America during the time when your family needs you the most?”

  Rosalina wavered. How did she give her loyalty to her family but also stay true to herself? It seemed an impossible task to meet all her responsibilities—to her family, her people, and herself. “I respect the people of St. Christophe too much to pretend I’m marrying that cheating bastard just so we keep our seats in parliament. And I just don’t believe it’s the best solution to the problem. You keep saying we need to show strength and continuity.” Once she pushed aside the fear, the answer became clear. “So, really, the emphasis needs to be on the value of the royal family. Not on our ability to produce a male heir, but in what we do for our country. I won’t send out invitations, but I will come home in time for the Jubilee.” She’d probably be able to stomach standing by Marcel at that point.

  “One sighting of the princess is hardly going to be enough.”

  “The only other sightings they’d get is me in the backseat of the car, waving behind a tinted window or a paparazzi shot of me buying tampons. Besides, it’s more than just showing up in a fancy gown. I’m going to announce my philanthropy at the Jubil
ee.”

  “You don’t have one. And, in order to create one, you need to live here, see what’s needed, in order to provide something meaningful.”

  That simple word—meaningful—triggered it. “I already have an idea. I’m going to start an internship program at our secondary schools.”

  “What does that entail, exactly?”

  At least her mother sounded interested. “If I hadn’t worked in the lab every summer, I would never have discovered my love of chemistry, which led to my passion for perfume. I would have taken the core requirement classes and probably chosen English Literature or business.”

  “You make a good point. I majored in Sociology, having no idea whatsoever how that translated into real-world jobs.”

  “Exactly. Students have no idea what it means to be a lawyer or a plumber, a mechanic or a graphic artist. So, if we give them exposure, they’ll have a more solid understanding of what they want to do with their lives. It will also give them references and job leads for when they graduate.”

  “That’s an excellent idea.”

  “And, since you want us in the forefront of the people’s minds for the next month, you can send out a press release saying that Princess Rosalina and Marcel Allard will be announcing their newly founded philanthropy at the Jubilee.” Her mom’s silence filled her with doubt. “Not good enough? It gives the impression we’re still together and that we’re building a future, but it’s not a lie because I will be launching that philanthropy.” Just not with him.

  “Yes,” her mother said. “It’s enough.”

  “Then why are you so quiet?”

  “Because it breaks my heart that such an intelligent, talented woman is not able to run this country. That a man, who is most certainly not her equal, has more power and will make the decisions that impact not only St. Christophe but our family business. I admire you, darling, and while I would prefer it if you came home and made things easier for your father and me, you wouldn’t be the woman you are if you did.”

  “Thank you.” But she remained uneasy. “Do you think Father will agree? I don’t want to add to his stress.”

  “You didn’t create this situation, Marcel did. And there will be no peace for either of us until after the vote.”