How to Catch a Queen (Runaway Royals #1) - Alyssa Cole Page 0,125
in their entire life, just by moving.”
“Moving where? Where are people supposed to go if even this neighborhood becomes too expensive?”
I suck at my cigarette, hard.
He sighs. “The struggle is real; I feel that. Why do you think I’m out here hustling? I have bills to pay, too, but I don’t have a house to sell for a huge profit. If I did, I could pay off school loans, medical bills.” He shrugs, like he couldn’t help but point out those two specific things.
“Well, there are plenty of vultures circling, so if I do give up on the neighborhood, I have lots of realtors to choose from.” My hand shakes as I lift the cigarette to my lips again, and I try not to fumble it.
He drops his affable shark mask.
“You act like I’m some scumbag, but you just proved my point. There are lots of realtors interested in this area, especially with the VerenTech deal as good as done. It’s the hottest emerging community in Brooklyn right now.”
“Emerging community?” I tilt my head. “Emerging from where? The primordial ooze?”
His brows lift a bit, and I know it’s not because he’s registered my question but because the motherfucker is surprised I can use primordial in a sentence.
“Look.” He runs a hand over his hair backward and then forward, not messing up his look. “I’m not some villain twirling my mustache and trying to push people out onto the street. I’m not even one of the buyers carrying around bags of cash and blank checks to tempt people into taking bad deals. I’m just a normal guy doing a normal job.”
Just doing my job. How many times have I heard that while arguing with people over my mother’s health, money, and future? Everyone is just doing their job, especially when that job is lucrative and screws people over.
“And I’m just a homeowner who’s told you repeatedly that I don’t want to sell,” I say.
“You don’t have to sell,” he says, walking off in search of someone more receptive to his bullshit. “But you can’t stop change, you know.”
I don’t think he’s even trying to be threatening, but I mash out the cigarette against the bottom of my flip-flop and stand, suddenly full of nervous energy. After stepping into the hallway to grab my gardening bag and slip on sneakers, I lock the door and make my way to Mommy’s community garden. I could never manage to keep even a Chia Pet alive, but I’m doing my best. I go every day; I put in work, even if I don’t have much to show for it.
It keeps me close to her, and that dulls away the sharp edges of the guilt that’s always poking at me. I sigh deeply, then pull out my phone and call her—it goes to voicemail. And when I hear her voice say, “You’ve reached Yolanda Green. I’m away from my cell phone or otherwise indisposed. Leave a message, unless you’re asking for money, because lord knows I don’t have any,” my throat goes rough as usual.
“Hi, Mommy,” I say after the beep, even though I usually don’t leave messages. “Things are hard, but I’m holding steady. Just wanted to hear your voice, but I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
About the Author
ALYSSA COLE is an award-winning author of historical, contemporary, and sci-fi romance. Her contemporary rom-com A Princess in Theory was one of the New York Times’ 100 Notable Books of 2018, and her books have received critical acclaim from Library Journal, BuzzFeed, Kirkus, Booklist, Jezebel, Vulture, Book Riot, Entertainment Weekly, and various other outlets. When she’s not working, she can usually be found watching anime or wrangling her many pets.
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Also by Alyssa Cole
Runaway Royals
HOW TO CATCH A QUEEN
Reluctant Royals
A PRINCESS IN THEORY
ONCE GHOSTED, TWICE SHY (novella)
A DUKE BY DEFAULT
CAN’T ESCAPE LOVE (novella)
A PRINCE ON PAPER
Loyal League
AN EXTRAORDINARY UNION
A HOPE DIVIDED
Off the Grid
RADIO SILENCE
SIGNAL BOOST
MIXED SIGNALS
WHEN NO ONE IS WATCHING
THE A.I. WHO LOVED ME
THAT COULD BE ENOUGH
LET US DREAM
LET IT SHINE
BE NOT AFRAID
AGNES MOOR’S WILD KNIGHT
EAGLE’S HEART
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.