Page 23 of Don’t Look Down

She stirs a helping of sugar into her drink and brings her attention back to me. “Sorry, I should probably be trying to sell you in on the royal fantasy before your date with my cousin, not painting a bleak picture. Lock’s a good man. He just has a lot of”—she looks toward the ceiling, as if looking for the right word—“expectations. Both of himself, and for others. But I think you two will get along.”

I rub my arms, growing anxious. “I certainly hope so, all things considered.” Conversations we had as children don’t translate to adulthood. He’s relatively a stranger I just see in passing at events now and then.

She looks like she wants to say more, but then thinks better of it and nibbles on another biscuit. We pivot into talks of her work, the jewelry designer she’s working with for the upcoming event, and how the charity tour has been progressing.

But the entire time I struggle to pay attention, my mind wanting to focus on thoughts of Lock, and reluctantly Beau. Damn my mind for continuing to drift there, remembering the feel of his fingers pressed against my hand and the effortless way in which he connected with the kids.

It’s just because I’m around him. If it were me and Lock doing this together, like we were supposed to, Beau wouldn’t even be a blip on my radar.

“It’s going to be great.” Aria stirs me out of my racing thoughts, and I quickly apologize for spacing out. “Don’t apologize. I just don’t want you to fret over it until the ball.”

I chew on the inside of my lip. A terrible habit that my mother would be scolding me for right now. “I have another event with Caulfield-Penner on Wednesday, so that will keep me busy.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you to worry yourself. He’s lucky to be going with you, and you just remember that. Plus, he’s going to love your gown. Any man would appreciate it,” she says with a wink.

But when I picture a prince admiring me in the golden gown, it’s not the one she’s talking about.

Nine

Idon’t know if my feet have ever hurt this badly. I should’ve known better than to test out a new pair of heels on a day I knew I’d be spending most of the time on my feet. But after Aria and I got tea, we braved the rain to go shopping at a few surrounding shops, and I fell in love with the stunning lavender pumps currently crushing my toes.

A long, hot shower and leftover pasta is calling my name. If only these last few lingering donors would leave. The two men chat with Beau, which to his credit, he’s doing his best to appear interested. Even though I know the two bankers are dull as dishwater.

Trust me, I was seated at a table with them earlier. And I was relieved when Juliette called me onstage to help hold items for the auction.

The pain in my feet and lower back is overshadowed by the reminder that we raised enough for two scholarships to one of the private primary schools in the city. It wasn’t looking like we’d reach our goal with the lineup of items we had to bid on, until Beau got onstage and auctioned off two private tours of Caulfield Palace, as well as dinner with him.

That brought in eye-bugging bids, and we exceeded our goal.

Most of the event space has been cleaned up and volunteers have been sent home. Only a few stragglers remain, and I shift uncomfortably. I don’t want to leave before saying goodbye to Juliette, who’s speaking quietly with some of her team by the boxed-up items to be mailed to the highest bidders, and it doesn’t feel right to leave while Beau is still talking.

But it’s so tempting to slip outside and have Annabeth drive me home.

I glance at my watch. If I get home in the next thirty minutes, I’ll catch the newest episode of my favorite baking competition. If I miss it, I’ll have to wait to catch up tomorrow when it’s streaming.

The loud scraping of a chair draws my attention. One of the men must’ve tucked it into the table, and he extends his hand to Beau. The two shake hands, then he does the same with the second banker. I try not to look too relieved as the men say their goodbyes and slip out the door.

Beau barely bothers to cover his relief though. He immediately loosens his tie and undoes his cufflinks to roll his sleeves to his elbows as he strides over to me. His forearms are tanned, like he’s been spending his off time in the sun. “Let’s grab a bite. I’m starved.”

I’m gearing up to shoot down his offer, ready to just get home, but something makes the words get caught in my throat. “It’s late,” I hedge.

He cranes his neck to look out the window. “The sun is still shining. Therefore, it’s not too late. Unless your bedtime is seven p.m.”

“More like seven thirty.”

He rubs his forehead. “Please, only the best things happen after then. C’mon.” He retrieves his suit jacket from the back of a chair and drapes it over his arm. “You must be hungry, too. This wasn’t supposed to go this late.”

As if on queue, my stomach betrays me with a loud growl. I shield my belly, but it’s too late. Beau cocks an eyebrow.

“Fine,” I grumble. “I guess I wouldn’t mind grabbing something quick.” I emphasize the last word, truly wanting to get back in time to watch my show live. Otherwise, I’ll have to stay offline until I watch tomorrow to avoid spoilers.

“Glad to see you’re so enthused,” he mocks and pulls out his phone. “I’ll have Faraday call ahead for us.”

“Faraday? Where are we going?”

“My secretary. Tall, greying fellow with the glasses today?”

That’s right. He’s a slender, older man with thick gray hair and even thicker framed glasses that give him a studious appearance. But there was a kindness to his face with each person he spoke to today that made me like him more than Edwin.