A Princess for Christmas - Jenny Holiday Page 0,112
just—”
“Listen. I’m prepared to get stubborn here. We both know I’d make a miserable husband, but I flatter myself that I’m a decent enough friend, so hear this.” He lifted Marie’s hand and kissed it before letting go of it. “This is just a courtesy call, really. I’m not marrying you. After all, despite all appearances to the contrary, this isn’t actually the nineteenth century.”
She studied his face, her kind, loyal friend.
“I’ll go out there and make a scene all by myself if need be. The part I can’t help you with is the next part.”
“And what part is that?” she asked, though she knew the answer.
“The part where you don’t let go of love without a fight.” He smiled at her. “The part where you talk to him. The part where you try to keep him. The part where you let him decide he doesn’t want you instead of making that decision for him.”
“Even if it costs me everything?” Again, though, she already knew the answer. She just wanted to hear Max, her oldest and truest friend, say it out loud. Help her really hear it. Bake some courage into her for the enormous detour this evening was now going to take.
“It won’t cost everything, though, will it? Because all this”—he gestured around the room—“isn’t even remotely everything, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” she whispered. “He’s everything.”
“All right.” He stood up and gave her his arm. “Let’s do this then.”
Leo cracked a beer in his room while he waited for Gabby. Actually, it was his second beer. He had pulled the velvet rope in the corner and asked the dude who appeared at his door a few minutes later for “some beer” and had received in return a six-pack in a silver ice bucket. It was—of course—cocoa porter. This fucking place. But it was from Imogen’s pub, so he couldn’t be too annoyed. Imogen was all right. He was going to miss her. Kai, too.
This was the first time he had used that stupid bell. He’d thought the whole concept was kind of gross. He was on vacation and in possession of nothing but time to spare, so he could use his legs to go out in search of whatever he wanted.
Of course, mostly what he wanted while he’d been here had been Marie.
It was sort of morbidly amusing, though, that he was finally availing himself of the bell on the eve of his departure. Going out with a bang—or, rather, a polite, understated ring.
He looked at his watch. His cheap watch from Target with the beat-up leather strap. He felt a little bad that he and Marie had never talked through what had happened on the whole Morneau front. She’d been holed up working those first few days, so she’d probably broken the bad news about Philip Gregory to the cabinet she wasn’t a member of. But how had they reacted? He’d never asked.
But no. He checked himself. It was not his job to solve the princess’s problems anymore. And more to the point, it never had been.
He’d only been looking at his watch to check the time. Where the hell was Gabby? She was supposed to come to his room after watching Marie get ready for the ball, but she should be here by now.
He eyed the remaining four beers.
Well, fuck it. He didn’t have to drive anywhere. He didn’t have to do anything except roll himself and Gabby out tomorrow morning and into the car he’d ordered to take them to Zurich.
Two more beers and forty more minutes later, Leo had to revise that thought. Maybe he had to get off his ass and go looking for Gabby. And somehow not see any evidence of the ball-in-progress.
Could he pull the bell again? Order up his sister? The thought amused him. Hello, yes, could you kindly bring me another six-pack, and while you’re at it, I’m in the market for an extremely talkative eleven-year-old girl. She’s—
There was a rap on the door. Finally.
He only lurched a little as he made his way over to answer it. He wasn’t drunk, just tipsy. “I was about to come looking for you. Are you all packed, because I—”
It was not Gabby.
“Good evening, Mr. Ricci.”
It was Mr. Benz.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing at all.” Mr. Benz had a clothing rack on wheels with him, which he proceeded to roll into the room.
“Where’s my sister?”
“She is safely ensconced in the library.”
“It’s Christmas Eve. I can’t have my sister hanging out by herself.”