His Princess: (A novella from the world of House of Payne) Page 10

  “Do you think you can produce quality content for your Wednesday deadline?”

  “It would be a push, but I can do it. And you might want to think about putting me permanently into the Monday slot, since I’m so reliable.” Sorry, Fjord, but facts were facts. “As for my Thursday slot, I’ve already got this great idea for a segment on what to pack for those quick weekend getaways—”

  “Great. Wonderful. Fabulous. Do whatever the hell you want for your Thursday slot, okay? Just wrap up your latest assignment now and get it to me ASAP.”

  “And you’ll try to create more room for me in on the Monday slot, yes?”

  “I swear, I’ll do everything I can, Joelle. Buzzword’s scheduling director knows about this fuck-up, and that I’m relying on you to fix it. If you can pull this off, plus create content to cover your Thursday slot, it’s going to make you look damn good in his eyes. No promises, except that I’ll push this for you.”

  “Good deal,” she said, adrenaline surging through her. She bounded to her feet, eager to get to work… and then realized where she was. “Uh, I’d better go, Heidi. Lots of work to do.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Joelle.”

  “What I am is an idiot,” she mumbled to herself as her boss hung up. For a moment she just stood there, mind racing. Naturally her first instinct was to race back home to her own equipment and get things done that way. But this was California. Like the pro she was, she’d put her “Thrift Store Gold” piece in her Dropbox account, so it could be accessed from anywhere in the world. All she needed was a studio to complete the video’s sound. Or, barring that, she had no problem with renting equipment or even buying it outright.

  She could do this.

  “This menu’s got every damn thing that could possibly be cooked with wine, and then some.” Gus came in, gloriously naked and reading a padded menu. Normally such a sight would make her drool, but at that moment all she felt was a resonating guilt. “Beef tips braised with red wine sounds cool, and it’ll go with that Malbec you like so much. What do you say?”

  She bit her lip, wrestling with her guilt. “Do you remember our first date, when you took me to Gillooly’s and got that unexpected work call that pulled you away? It sucked and you hated to allow anything to interrupt what was going on between us, but that’s what being an adult is all about, right? I mean… right?”

  He looked up from the menu before zeroing in on the phone in her hand. “What’s up?”

  So much for breaking it to him gently. “My boss just called. I have a great opportunity to upload two assignments this week, and I know I can do it. The thing is, I need to get to the nearest sound studio and rent some time there to do the voice-overs. Hopefully, once I find a studio, it’ll only take a couple hours—”

  “No.” Closing the menu with a muffled clap, he headed for the phone near the bed. “So, beef tips sound good to you? You want dessert? According to their menu, their cheesecake has won awards.”

  She stared at him, not sure she understood. “No? Wait, what does that even mean?”

  “It means, no, you’re not going to some fucking studio when you’re here with me living your best life. The rest of the world beyond that door can take care of itself. We’re here in our own little universe where nothing can touch us, not even work, so that’s all there is to it. Now come back to bed and tell me what you want to eat.”

  “I don’t want to eat, and I’ve told you what I want.” She shook her head as disquiet snaked through her, dark and acid-filled. But this was her fault, so she had to do her best to make him understand. “Gus, I really am so sorry about this interruption. I know the timing sucks, but I’m not sure I’ll ever get an opportunity like this again, so it’s kind of important that I jump on it.”

  “So, our being together isn’t important?”

  She blinked, shocked he’d come to such a conclusion. “Of course it’s important. Look, this is just like that time at Gillooly’s when you told me you had to go to work, but that I was still at the top of your priority list so I shouldn’t be offended that work had interrupted our date. I understood, just as I’m hoping you understand now that this is exactly how I feel about you. You are my top priority.”

  “Doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.” Tossing the menu onto the bed, he grabbed up his pants. “If you have to, you can use the business center they’ve got here onsite—computers and internet for days. Get dressed. We’ll go find their business center together.”

  She moved to the closet to grab the closest outfit, a pale creamsicle orange blouse and burnt umber-colored clam diggers. “I’m getting dressed, but I don’t think you understand the situation. What I need is special equipment to complete the music and voice-overs for this video. As lovely as this B and B is, I doubt they’ll have high-quality microphones and a mixing board in their business center.”

  “Joelle, we’re not going on a wild goose chase looking for a fucking studio to get your work shit done—work shit that you said had been cleared.”

  “It was.” She heard the anger rising in her tone, and she fought to control it as she slipped into her underwear and pulled on her clothes. “Unfortunately, another vlogger flaked out on my boss. My boss knows I usually finish up my projects well before my Wednesday deadline, so she gave me a call.”

  “In other words, this is your boss’s problem, not yours.”

  On that score, they were in full agreement. “She sounded desperate, and I saw a golden opportunity. That’s why I told her I’d help her out.”

  That stopped him cold. “What the fuck, Joelle.”

  Again, she pushed down her anger. After going to all the trouble of planning their perfect weekend getaway like he had, it was totally understandable he’d be upset. “It’s just two hours of work out of this entire weekend, Gus. Please be flexible on this and know that I’ll get things done just as fast as I can so I can get back to you.”

  “You’re not going to be getting back to me, because you’re not going anywhere. Your ass stays here until I say otherwise.”

  Be reasonable, she told herself, trying to keep calm while she finished buttoning her blouse. Be reasonable. “I’m so sorry you’re upset about this—”

  “I’m not upset. You know why I’m not upset? Because you’re going to call your boss back and tell her that you’re not going to pull her ass out of the fire. Have her lean on someone else.”

  Maybe she hadn’t made the whole situation clear to him. Again, that was her fault, not his. “This job… it’s not just a job to me, you see. I’m not ashamed to admit that I have ambitions of becoming the Editor-in-Chief of Buzzword’s fashion department. They’re the hottest digital mag going, and they’re looking to branch out into traditional publication in the next year or so. I want to be in on the ground floor of that, but the only way to do that is to stand out above all the rest and make sure I over-perform beyond all expectations.”

  “So we’re back to your over descriptions now. Which is fine when you’re with me—overdo and over-perform to your heart’s content. I love it, as long as I’m at the center of that shit. I’ll do the same with you and put you at the center of my shit, so we’re in balance.”

  “But we’re not in balance,” she said slowly, slipping into block-heeled leather mules before turning to face him with a frown. “When our roles were reversed and we had our first date at Gillooly’s, I understood that an unforeseen emergency had come up and you had to go take care of it as quickly as possible. Then I didn’t see you for four days after that. But now that it’s my turn to deal with a rare work emergency, you won’t give me even two hours.” Confused, she shook her head. “How is that balanced?”

  “Look, in my line of work if I don’t move fast, people—fuck, entire corporations—could go down the financial tubes. It’s that important. Your work isn’t.”

  “Isn’t…what?” She heard the dangerous edge to her tone, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. She didn’t want to. Not when he’d ju
st dismissed her work and her ambitions like they were nothing. “Important?”

  “It’s not like someone’s going to off themselves if they don’t match their shoes to their damn purse. But if I fuck up and someone’s life savings goes down the shitter, they might go looking to take a dive off the tallest building they can find.”

  “I see,” she said while her hold on her anger slipped, fueled by a shocking jolt of hurt just underneath it. “So what you’re saying is my job is nowhere near as important as yours.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to get into this with you—”

  “I don’t blame you, because you’d lose the argument. I get your point,” she added, trying to be fair while his brows slammed down. “No one’s going to kill themselves over fashion. I never claimed that to be the case, Gus, so what you just did was compare apples to oranges. What I had hoped was that you’d find it in your heart to understand that this isn’t just a job to me. It’s my career. And like your career, it’s an important part of my life.”

  “You’re a trust fund princess. You don’t even have to have a career.”

  Goddamn it. “Is that why you’re attracted to princesses? They don’t have jobs that make any unexpected demands on them, so…what? This frees them up to worship at your feet twenty-four seven?”

  “Don’t be fucking ridiculous.”

  “You’re the one who brought princesses up, so obviously it’s not ridiculous.”

  “The point is, you don’t have to work to put food on the damn table, Joelle. You’re just playing at being a career woman. It’s cute and I love it, but it’s not real.”

  She sucked in a breath as his words hit her like a smack in the face. “My God, is that how you see me?”

  He spread his hands wide. “Am I wrong?”

  “I don’t know how you could be more wrong, or disrespectful, for that matter,” she gritted out, still so stung her eyes burned and her throat clenched. Blindly she turned to the open closet and began yanking the clothes she’d hung up off the hangers to stuff them into the carryon bag she’d stored at the bottom of the closet. “I love what I do, and I’m fucking awesome at it. I have powerful ambitions—ambitions I refuse to apologize for or explain. No man would ever be made to feel that way.”

  “Joelle—”

  “Maybe my career isn’t life-and-death like you obviously feel yours is. But it’s just as important to me because it’s a part of me, a huge facet that makes up the spectacular diamond that I am. When you dismiss it like it’s unimportant, you’re actually dismissing me as unimportant. Thankfully, I know I deserve better than that kind of disrespect.”

  “You crazy woman, I’m not disrespecting you—”

  “Oh, no? Turn it around. Imagine me saying to you what you just said to me—you don’t have to have a career anymore because you’re rich now, Gus. At this point, you’re just playing at having a career. It’s cute and I love it, but it’s not real.” She watched his eyes narrow, and for a brief moment she wondered if that got through to him. Not that it mattered. Now that she knew how he viewed her, she wanted nothing to do with him. “The thing is, Gus, I would never say those things to you, and not because your job happens to make a shit-ton more money than mine. I would never say those things because I respect that your work is a part of who you are.”

  He took a measured breath and let it out slowly. “I get it. Look, stop packing, okay? You want a couple hours’ studio time? Fine. I’ll find you a fucking st—”

  “No, thank you,” she said coldly, heading into the bathroom to dump everything that was hers into the bag. If things spilled, they spilled. All that mattered now was getting out of there. “My equipment at home will do just fine.”

  “Goddamn it, you’re overreacting. No way in hell am I flying us back to Chicago with this shit going on between us. We’re hashing this out here and now, before we do another goddamn thing.”

  “Please, feel free to stay on and enjoy the remainder of your weekend. I don’t need you to get back to Chicago. I don’t need you, period.” As those words came out of her mouth, an invisible hand curled around her heart and squeezed until she couldn’t breathe. The stinging in her eyes got worse, but she ignored it and tried to think if she’d packed everything. “I’m just glad this happened right at the outset of this relationship instead of months from now, when I’d really be head over heels in love with you. That would have hurt so much more than it does now. Timing is everything, I guess.”

  “You’re not leaving.” He stood in her path, arms crossed in front of his bare chest and his dark eyes fierce. “We talk this through, we figure it out. If you want to still leave after all that, we fucking leave together.”

  “I advise you to stick to dating princesses, Gus.” Zipping up her bag, she turned to face him with eyes that felt as cold as the frozen block of ice in the pit of her stomach. “They’re shallow and not used to standing on their own. They won’t give you any pushback. Career women will, so give us a wide berth. Clearly, we’re out of your depth.” Head held high, she marched around him and out the door.

  Chapter Ten

  Joelle sat at her work desk by the bay window in her townhome, staring blankly at the computer screen. It was barely six in the morning, and Alice was curled up on the couch behind her. It had been almost two in the morning by the time her flight had touched down in Chicago, and a sleepy Alice had been there to pick her up. She’d had some explaining to do, of course. Her foster sister hadn’t even known she was out of town, much less in California, so Joelle knew she’d eventually have to tell Alice everything. But she simply hadn’t been up to it then. She’d felt too gutted.

  Not to mention it hadn’t helped her state of nerves that Gus had followed her all the way back to Chicago.

  At first, she’d thought Gus was hot on her heels because he wanted to drag her back and “hash things out” as he’d put it. That had obviously been his intention when he’d followed her out of their bungalow, shoeless and shirtless, to the B and B’s main lobby, where she’d called for a cab. She’d done her best to ignore him when he stood right beside her, telling her—and the woman at the desk who’d called for an airport shuttle—that Joelle wasn’t going to leave, and that they weren’t finished.

  Then he’d sat with her outside as she waited for the shuttle, telling her the same spiel.

  Telling her.

  Not asking.

  When the shuttle had come and she was on her way, she’d thought the agony of it was over, and she now had the breathing room to pick up the pieces. A few silent tears had fallen, but with Gus’s “it’s cute and I love it” comment echoing in her ears, she told her stupid, aching heart that calling it quits with him before she got in too deep was for the best. She had her job to keep her busy, so that was what she needed to focus on now.

  Though her job would never hold her the way Gus had.

  Or make her feel the way he’d made her feel.

  Her job wouldn’t fascinate her, or capture her imagination, or have her heart race, or make her feel like the most protected person on the planet.

  No.

  What she had was her job, and she loved it.

  The problem was that she also loved Gus.

  She knew that without a doubt the moment she’d seen him again, this time in the airport’s passenger area as she’d waited to board her flight back to Chicago. Thankfully he’d taken the time to put on shoes and a shirt, though he still had that dark, almost manic gleam in his eyes. Despite that look and everything he’d said, the irrational joy in seeing him there told her what was truly in her heart. Then he sat next to her, dropping his bag beside hers, and though she’d told herself not to even look his way, she hadn’t been able to help herself.

  “We’re not done, you and I,” he’d said simply, lacing his hands over his taut middle. “Do what you have to do. Be as pissed at me as much as you want. I deserve it, and I wholly own that fact, no excuses. But know this, my lady—we are not fucking done. Not by a l
ongshot.”

  She hadn’t known what to say to that, so she hadn’t said anything as they boarded. She didn’t ask why the hell he was taking a commercial flight back to Chicago when he had his own private jet right there to fly him back. Nor did she ask him why he walked with her to the curb where she was picked up by a baffled Alice, who’d clearly thought Gus had been left behind in California.

  Her need to not speak continued as Alice drove her to her townhome, where her foster sister had insisted on staying overnight. Joelle had allowed that only because she didn’t have the energy to fight it out with her. The only thing in her head at that point had been to finish that stupid video to get it out of the way, so that was what she’d done. The moment she and Alice walked into her place at almost two in the morning, she’d put herself to work while Alice had tried to get her to eat something. When that had failed, her foster sister had simply curled up on the couch to catch a few winks, while Joelle wrapped up the video and sent it off to Heidi.

  Now the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon in the east. The segments of her next post— “Wowing with Weekend Wear”—had been outlined. She’d also written a rough script, and several outfits had been chosen to be photographed later that day when the light was better. The thought of trying to grab some sleep surfaced briefly, then vanished just as fast. No way was she going to be able to close her eyes any time soon. She might see Gus in her dreams.

  “It’s okay if you’re not okay, you know.”

  Joelle’s head snapped up so quickly she heard something pop in her neck. Alice had rolled onto her stomach to prop her chin on the couch’s armrest, and her sleepy eyes were fastened on her, soft with compassion.

  “Alice.” She swallowed, and it was harder than she’d expected. Guess that was what happened when she was trying to choke down a fist-sized knot of tears. “I don’t know what I am.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. Not in the way you mean, anyway.”

  “In what way, then?”