The Prince's Bride (Part 1) - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,88
brother.”
“I called him,” Arty said on the line.
“Really?” I questioned, taking the phone and moving to the windows that overlooked the city. “Then, I am now positive you have cameras installed because your timing can not be this impeccable.”
“Why is that? What is the matter, little brother?” he questioned as he flipped through the papers on his desk within the very same study he’d kicked me out of the country from. There had to be at least a good thirty stacks of folders, the contents of which, only he, God, and his assistant knew. How in the world had he found the time to call me?
“Gale?”
I felt rather dumb and childish complaining as he was working, but what else could I do?
“The spy you sent with me refuses to allow me outside. Do you know how hard it is to date a woman, going around in wigs and glasses and avoiding social gatherings?”
“I thought you all went to the movies?”
I groaned, wanting to bang my head on the glass. “Arty, I am a prince! In what world is taking her to the movies significant enough? How many romance novels have you read where all the main characters do is sit around and talk in a penthouse all day? It is not even my penthouse. I go from here to her mother’s house, to maybe one other event outside under cover of darkness like I am running from the law. This is not romantic.”
“You are not a character in a romance novel, and not every day needs to be romantic.”
“Arty—”
“Gale, you are being dramatic.”
“Really? I vaguely remember you taking Sophia out on hot-air balloon rides, to the opera, scuba diving on a private island, and—”
“Are you sure you vaguely remember, or do you vividly remember?” He grinned into the camera.
“Is that all you take from my statement? My good memory?”
He chuckled. “You are free to do all of those things too, Gale.”
“Am I? What is the fine print?”
“Yes, of course, once you are engaged—”
“That is the fine print! I am not engaged yet, am I? What am I supposed to do to get to that point? Date? How am I supposed to go on those dates when, again, I am locked in here with Captain Funless and Vice Admiral Play-doh.”
Arty laughed so hard he actually had to stop working.
“But why am I Play-doh?” Wolfgang asked from the kitchen, and the fact that he knew he wasn’t Captain Funless was one other reason why he was Play-doh.
“Arty, I know some of the papers are wondering where I am. Please tell them I went skiing with friends in the mountains or something.”
“The problem with that is that all your friends are still in town, also wondering where you are, which is why we are saying nothing at all,” he replied, not at all understanding.
“Then, I don’t know what you want me to do here.” I snapped, annoyed. “I barely even know if she is having fun with me.”
“Hmmm...”
“Hmm? Why hmm?”
He just shrugged, signing one on of the black folders and handing it off to someone not on camera.
“Are you trying to annoy me?”
“Only as hard as you are me.”
“I thought you wanted this, Arty, so why are you making it so hard? I swear it is as if—”
“Fine.”
“Fine?” I repeated, not sure if I heard correctly.
“Iskandar, are you there?” he called out instead, and Iskandar stepped up beside me.
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“I know this makes your job harder, but please allow him the space he needs to do...whatever it is he thinks he needs to do. Within reason, of course.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you,” I said, exhaling.
“Gale.”
“What?”
“I’m glad you like her so much,” he stated. And before I could reply, he hung up on me. It was just like him, appearing wherever he wanted, stating what would and should be done, teasing as he did, then hanging up before I could say or request anything else.
“You know what, I’m not even going to complain,” I muttered, tossing the phone back to Iskandar before rushing toward the stairs. “I’m going to shower. Wolfgang, see if we can find somewhere we can go Scuba diving—”
“Scuba diving?” At the sound of her voice, my foot slipped on the last step at the top of the stairs, causing me to reach for the railing to catch myself. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, fine, of course!” I said, trying to mask my fall by just sitting on the stairs like a total and absolute buffoon. What in the hell was happening to