Royal Holiday - Jasmine Guillory Page 0,56
course means everything you said about surprises is completely right—my desire to surprise you is all about me, and not you. Ouch. Right, here were my plans—”
This time, she stopped him.
“Wait. I said all of that off the cuff. I hadn’t realized you had actually planned surprises for me. Why don’t I tell you exactly what I hate about surprises, and we can see if we can figure out a way to make this work for both of us.”
He ran his fingers through her very tangled ponytail.
“You’re so good at problem-solving. I feel like Parliament could use you.” He shook his head. “No, they’d never listen to someone as logical as you. All right, tell me everything you hate.”
More people should ask her to do that.
“Okay, for starters, there’s so much managing someone else’s emotions along with your own. You have to monitor your facial expression so well, and make sure it’s reflecting what it’s supposed to reflect, and as you may have noticed about me, I have a pretty expressive face.” He laughed, and she grinned at him. “You’ve noticed, have you? Here’s an example of that: I was so relieved that my boss emailed me that he was going to retire and he wanted me to become director after him. I was so taken aback by the email, I almost dropped my tea. If he’d told me in person, and I didn’t manage to get ahold of myself quickly enough, he might have thought I was horrified by the idea of the job.”
Malcolm nodded.
“That makes sense. What else?”
“I hate that everything is out of my hands.” She ticked off her fingers. “Where I’m going, what I’m doing, even often who I’m with. There’s nothing I hate more than a surprise party, where you’re never in the clothes you would want to be wearing, someone always invited a person you hate, and you have to do the whole gasp, huge smile, ‘Oh my God!’ thing.”
She glanced at him and sighed.
“I can see what you’re thinking, and yes indeed, my ex did throw me surprise parties on more than one occasion, and yes, I hated them every single time, and yes, we did get in fights after every single one, because I didn’t appreciate everything he did to throw the parties. But those parties were about him, not me. It took me a long time to realize that.”
He kept running his fingers through her hair.
“Was this Maddie’s dad?”
She nodded.
“Yeah, Maddie’s dad. He and I broke up when Maddie was little, but we’d been together for a while before that. Granted, we broke up thirty years ago, but I guess there are some things that stick around.”
It felt ridiculous, but she’d never connected the dots before about her hatred of surprises and the way her ex always reacted when he threw her those surprise parties. She always had to apologize to him when she didn’t enjoy them, when he knew she hated them.
She looked back over at Malcolm to see how he was taking all of this decades-old baggage she’d just dumped on him.
He didn’t seem fazed at all.
“Well, I can promise a few things: There will be absolutely no surprise parties. I will tell you what to wear—within reason, to be clear! You can wear what you want, but I can give you . . . guidelines, how about that? And you are under no obligation to appreciate or thank me for any of this—remember, if we do it, it’s because you’re doing me a favor, not because I’m doing one for you.”
She laughed at that, but he looked serious.
“No, really, I mean it. Please feel free to tell me that actually, no, you want to approve everything, and I’ll be happy to tell you. But if you don’t, I know that it’s because you’ve taken pity on me and my dreadful week, and I appreciate it.”
She kissed his cheek.
“That’s not the only reason. It’s also because I trust you. You can have your surprises, but I’d better get those outfit guidelines!”
He laughed.
“Okay, I promise. Now”—he looked at his watch—“I scheduled a private tour of Buckingham Palace for us at ten thirty today. I’m happy to call to cancel if you—”
“Seriously? A private tour of Buckingham Palace?” Maddie was going to DIE when she told her. “They said they weren’t doing any tours right now!”
He grinned.
“I may or may not have some pull in that area. Is that a yes? Do you want to go?”
She jumped out of bed.
“What time