Royal Holiday - Jasmine Guillory Page 0,68

years. Why wasn’t it working today?

He sighed and looked at Vivian, then away. He was still upset with her for what she’d said about him and Miles, remember?

He had yelled at the boy, though. And laughed at him. And told him he was acting like a child, when Malcolm knew he most wanted to be treated as an adult.

But even so! What was he supposed to do—go to Miles with his hat in hand and tell him he was doing everything right and he was sorry he’d ever questioned him? That was impossible.

But he hated that he’d snapped at Vivian and made everything awkward between them again. Even though he didn’t agree with her advice, she was just trying to help.

“I’m sorry,” he said out of the blue.

Vivian put a finger in her book and looked at him.

He closed his computer and put it on the coffee table.

“I’m sorry I was so rude to you. And I’m sorry I said what I did about you not knowing me—that was both unkind and untrue. I just don’t know what to do here.”

Vivian put her book down on the table.

“I know it wasn’t my place to give you advice about what to do with Miles. But I also know you’re so upset about this, and he seems like such a good kid—I don’t want this to cause a permanent rift between the two of you.”

He rubbed his forehead.

“Me neither.” He wished he could go back to Christmas Eve, when everything was relaxed and easy and he thought Miles’s big news was that he was going to move in with his girlfriend. “And you’re right, I am so upset about this. But that’s no excuse for how I treated you this morning. I shouldn’t have been quite so . . .”

“Cold and British?” she filled in.

He laughed.

“That’s one way to put it.” They smiled at each other. He was so relieved she was smiling back at him. Why had he wasted precious time quarreling with her? Especially since the last thing he wanted was for Vivian to be angry with him. “And I’m sorry I’ve been such a boor all afternoon.” He took a sip of his now-cold tea. “Vivian, I don’t want to apologize to him. I hate this, I hate that he’s doing this, it makes me furious, and I can’t tell him he’s doing everything right, because he isn’t. I just wish he would listen to me.”

Vivian nodded.

“I know.”

He got up and put the kettle on for more tea, and went back to the couch.

“I don’t know how to talk to him about this. Passion doesn’t put a roof over your head or food on your table. Do you think I had a lifelong passion to work for the Queen? No—I realized early on what I was good at and where I would thrive, then I worked to make it happen. I didn’t spend years pretending the monarchy was my top priority out of passion; I did it because I was strategic about my career. His love for art is all well and good, but I wish he would be realistic.”

Vivian moved over to the couch and sat next to him.

“Hey.” She moved her hand up to the back of his neck and rubbed the tight muscles there. “That part is okay. What he wants to do isn’t what you or I would do, that’s for sure. But you don’t have to approve of everything he’s doing to start a dialogue with him about why he’s doing it.”

He nodded as he relaxed against her strong fingers.

“You’re right. But . . .”

She shook her head.

“I know you don’t want to apologize for how you reacted on Christmas. But he’s a proud kid, and you mocked him for his dreams.” He started to respond to that, but she put her finger on his lips. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but don’t you think that’s how he sees it?”

He nodded again.

“You’re probably right about that.” He put his arm around her. “I’m sorry you’re in the middle of all of this. You only have a few days left in London, and I’ve involved you in my family drama.”

She kissed him on the cheek.

“Don’t worry about it. When I take the new job, I won’t be in the trenches in family dramas anymore; I’m going to miss it.”

He laughed and pulled her closer.

“Now that I’ve helped you have a bit of a busman’s holiday, we should make the most of our