but don’t let him hear you say that. He fancies himself kind of a hard-ass.” She had lowered her voice to a whisper, which seemed odd, but when she turned and said, “Kai! Are your ears burning?” Leo understood.
A big guy in a flannel shirt pulled out a barstool on the other side of Gabby.
“Kai,” Imogen said. “Meet Gabby Ricci. She’s a big fan of your work.” She gestured toward the gingerbread house.
Kai seemed a gruff sort, but only a monster—or a stick-up-his-ass king—could be immune to the admiration of a kid like Gabby. He nodded at her and said, “Thanks.”
“And this is Leo Ricci, Gabby’s brother and a friend of Princess Marie’s. The Riccis are visiting from New York for the holidays.”
Kai nodded at Leo and at Imogen when she set a beer down in front of him unasked.
Imogen, he had learned, was a talker. Like Gabby. As the proprietor of what seemed to be the most popular establishment in the village, she knew stuff. He’d heard her dish and receive gossip since they’d arrived, and she’d made no bones about trying to pump him for information. She was nice about it, but he didn’t blame her. It was kind of weird that someone like him would be here as a guest of someone like Marie.
But Kai was her opposite: silent, self-contained. “What’s the pie today?” he asked.
“Pork and winter greens.” Imogen nodded at Leo. “He’s having it. Ask for a review.”
Kai glanced at Leo’s plate and said, “I’ll have a club sandwich and potato salad.”
Leo did chuckle this time. Kai was a man after his own heart: silent, decisive, and fond of flannel. “So.” Leo nodded at the gingerbread house. “A mansard roof? That’s an interesting choice.”
Kai shrugged. “Lots of the original buildings in the village have that kind of roof.”
“That makes sense. I would have been tempted to go with a gambrel in homage to all the barns I saw on the drive in, but you’re right; mansard is better.”
That got the guy’s attention. He turned on his stool, eyebrows raised.
“Architecture school dropout,” Leo said. “And nearly a decade on residential construction crews.” He took a swig of his beer. “No experience with pastry, though.”
“It’s surprisingly not that different once you get the hang of it.”
“You make the snow globes, too, I think?”
He nodded, and Gabby took over. “You do? The ones here?” When Kai grunted in confirmation, Gabby was off. “Oh my gosh, I love them so much! It’s funny, because I have a snow globe at home of Cinderella’s castle. You know the one from Disney World?” She didn’t wait for an affirmative response. “It’s a castle in the snow, the same as one of yours that I was looking at near the entrance. Right? A castle in the snow? But yours is so much better.”
Imogen, having come back from serving someone else, leaned her elbows on the bar. “Kai’s our resident artist.” The artist in question rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. He did all the built-in cabinetry in Marie’s suite at the palace. After her mom died and Marie took on more royal duties, she moved into a new set of rooms and did a reno.”
“I just did that as a favor because she asked me personally,” Kai said dismissively.
“How do you two know Marie?” Leo asked, belatedly realizing it was kind of a dumb question. She was the princess of the country, after all. But it seemed like they actually knew her.
“We went to school together,” Imogen said.
“You did? Regular public school?” He would have thought she’d have gone to some fancy private school.
“Her mother wanted her to have as normal a childhood as possible. Joséphine was from an old, noble, French family and had gone to posh schools in the States. She rebelled against the idea of Marie being shipped off to grow up away from her family like she had been.”
Huh. That made sense, given what Marie had told him about her mother.
“And the village school is small. There’s only a couple dozen kids in each grade, so all of us know Marie.” She picked up a towel and started drying pint glasses. “We actually used to spend a fair amount of time together.”
“Well, it’s nice to see that she has friends. Normal friends.” Wait. Had that sounded snobby? Maybe the king was rubbing off on him. “No offense. I mean that in the best possible way.”
“None taken,” Imogen said. “But we’re not really friends.”
“Oh.” Leo was more disappointed than