Page 4 of Royal Cocktail

A waitress Skye had never seen before dropped the bill off at their table, and Hannah immediately reached for it.

Skye shook her head. “You listened to my pity party. I’ll pay.”

“Fair enough,” Hannah said, then pushed the bill toward Skye. “As for Bart, all I’m saying is that you haven’t dated since him.” She shot a quick glance toward the bulletin board that boasted dozens of candid shots of male customers alongside the twelve winners of the bar’s original Man of the Month contest. Once upon a time, his picture had been among the candid photos. At least until Skye had ripped it off in fury when she’d learned the truth.

“Two years and no sex,” Hannah chirped. “I’m just pointing that out.”

“Hannah, don’t.” Not a day went by that Skye didn’t think about Leo, the first man she’d loved. The only man she’d loved. “Please … don’t.” Her voice sounded even more slurred than usual, because her throat was thick with tears.

Across the table, Hannah’s shoulders fell. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I was—”

“It’s fine.” She concentrated on pulling out enough cash to leave on the table so that she had an excuse not to meet Hannah’s eyes. Then she pushed her chair back. “Ready?”

“You go on,” Hannah said. “I’m meeting Matthew here as soon as he finishes his last training session for the day.”

Skye nodded, pushing down the rising jealousy. The owner of an Austin-based chain of gyms, Matthew Herrington was Hannah’s husband, and after a crazy start with a fake engagement, now they were about as happy as a couple could be. Skye adored them both, but some days it was just plain hard being around them. Because more and more she feared that she’d never find that kind of love.

Not the kind that lasted, anyway.

She reached for her purse, slung it over her shoulder, and told Hannah she’d check in tomorrow. Then she gave Tyree a quick wave followed by a nod to Jenna, one of the owners who was hurrying toward the back office with a baby on her hip.

Other than her office, The Fix on Sixth was one of the few places where Skye didn’t feel awkward speaking because both the staff and the regulars had come to know her over the years. She smiled to herself as she walked toward the entrance, remembering Cheers, the classic TV show that she used to watch with her dad. The Fix on Sixth was definitely a place where everyone knew her name.

She was glancing around as she walked, waving at a few familiar faces, and not paying enough attention to where she was going. Which was why she almost barreled straight into the tall, dark-haired man with broad shoulders, the delicious scent of sandalwood soap, and the familiar, kissable mouth with parted lips now forming a startled oh.

“Skye?”

She froze. And for one glorious moment, joy spiraled through her.

Then reality came crashing back, and without even thinking, she lashed out and slapped Prince Stephan Leopold, heir to the crown of Avelle-am-see, hard across the face.

Chapter Three

Two Years Ago

Antitrust law was the worst. Or maybe it was just her professor who was the worst.

Either way, it didn’t matter. Because unless Skye Porter managed to wrap her head around his nonsensically meandering lectures, she was going to fail and ruin her straight-A average right as she was heading into her last year of law school. Which would be fine if she wanted to go straight into practicing. Her GPA would still be plenty high. But she wanted to clerk for a year on an appellate court, then return to work at Porter, Jenson & Kaye, the firm her great-grandfather had co-founded in New York over a century before. And appellate clerkships were incredibly competitive.

She sighed, the thick, blue-bound antitrust treatise sitting open in front of her on the Tarlton Law Library table. She scowled at it, then went back to taking notes. If the adjunct professor teaching the class couldn’t bother to organize his thoughts and actually teach, then she’d just have to huddle down with her casebook and a treatise and teach herself.

No matter what, she intended to ace this final. She drew a breath, flipped the page, and started taking more notes.

“Hey!”

Skye jumped a mile, then collapsed with a groan. “Hannah! You scared … me to death.”

“Sorry about that.” Her friend pulled out a chair and sat opposite Skye. She was older than Skye’s twenty-four years, with an athletic build and blond hair that framed her face and brushed her shoulders. They’d met when Hannah did a summer clerkship at Porter, Jenson & Kaye while Skye was working as a lowly file clerk. Despite the fact that Skye had barely been out of high school, they’d had lunch a few times and stayed in touch. Now Hannah had her own firm, and Skye could think of only one reason why she’d be back in these hallowed halls.

“What are you researching?” Most law firms had their own basic libraries and online database access, but for obscure case law or scholarly articles that weren’t easily found online, local attorneys often braved the parking situation and came to the University of Texas campus.

“No research,” Hannah said. “I’ve been mentoring some 2Ls in the mock trial program. I saw you, and figured it was fate.”

“Fate?”

“Absolutely. It’s Friday. We should go get a drink at The Fix.”

Skye cocked her head and stared down her friend. “We did that last night.” She tried not to sigh with the memory. Because last night, he had been there.