A Princess for Christmas - Jenny Holiday Page 0,19

the taxi,” he said. “We could have closed the partition.”

“If you”—she pointed over the seat—“are going to insist on being here, I must ask that you remain silent.” Her words were right, but her tone was all wrong, if her aim was to assert her independence. Her voice was soft, and she sounded like she was asking, not telling.

But again, not his concern.

Marie returned to Leo’s question. “Erickson’s is not owned by Philip Gregory. I’m going to spend the morning visiting some of the other retailers that stock our brand. I have appointments at three establishments between now and noon. So that should leave enough cushioning for you to make your two o’clock engagement, I believe?”

“Your Royal Highness,” the butler said, “we have another car. We don’t need to—”

She turned around, looking very much like a mother about to issue an If you two don’t stop, so help me, I will pull this car over threat. It was kind of funny the way the two of them seemed to communicate with no words.

When she won that round, Marie repeated herself, more firmly this time. “I wouldn’t want you to miss your two o’clock engagement.”

His two o’clock “engagement” was The Wizard of Oz. When the princess had made her proposal last night, he’d told her he could clear his schedule of everything except Gabby’s play this afternoon and counterproposed that she pay him only for half a day. She’d refused. He was planning to argue it with her later.

“All right then.” He started the car, and off they went.

“What happened to the taxi?” Marie asked.

“I don’t own it. The medallion belongs to a family friend. So I drive it, but I effectively pay for the right to do so.” It was owned by one of their old neighbors on Belmont, in fact, an old drinking buddy of his dad’s.

“Like rent?”

“Exactly. He gives me first dibs on schedule, so I can have the cab whenever I want, but I have to pay him whether I’m using it or not. If I’m not using it, someone else can drive it.” In addition to first crack at the schedule, Leo suspected that Mr. Bianchi was undercharging him, though he insisted he wasn’t. One of these days, Leo was going to have to push the issue. While he’d been willing to swallow his pride enough to take the handouts necessary to get him and Gabby on their feet after the accident, he wouldn’t live on charity forever.

“So this is your car.”

“Yep.”

He eyed the backseat passengers in the rearview mirror, irrationally wondering if they could see through the lie. The big guy was looking out the window, but the butler was staring right back at him.

The car was a rental, but he didn’t want to get into it with her—she’d probably insist on paying for it. He’d calculated that renting a car would cost about the same as what he’d have to pay for the use of the taxi, and the black sedan seemed . . . classier. More fit for a princess.

Not that he cared about any of that shit. “So are these meetings going to be stressful like last night?”

“Oh, no.” She did seem more at ease today, despite her annoyance over her royal babysitters. “These are courtesy calls. I’ll chat with them about upcoming orders, see if they have any concerns or technical questions.”

“You can answer technical questions about watches?”

“I can.”

Leo racked his brain to think of one. He wasn’t sure why. “Is it true that some people have weird magnetic fields that make watches stop?”

She laughed. It was more gratifying than it should have been. And it was getting a little easier to ignore her handlers since the butler had quit his sniffling. “I can’t answer that one. Our watches don’t have batteries.”

“They don’t?” He’d never heard of that.

“High-end watches don’t. You have to wind them. They’re powered by a spring and a series of gears.”

Well. He felt like an idiot. They had an old clock in the apartment that had been his great-grandmother’s, and it needed to be wound—which was why it was always stopped. “Wind the clock” wasn’t something that ever made it to the top of his to-do list.

“But it’s a good question. And actually, you don’t have to wind all our watches. Some of them are self-winding. They have a rotor that captures energy from normal movement and transfers it . . .” Just when it seemed like she was ramping up, she trailed off. “Sorry. I get