Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(115)

We’re sitting in his council chamber, he with his papers, me with the portfolio of notes I’ve taken to carrying to every meeting. Scribbling down important points gives me something to keep my mind from wandering back to Jessica, Jessica, Jessica.

That’s who I’m thinking about when my father says, “I’ve scheduled a social outing for you with a woman named Mariana Moretti.”

“What kind of social outing?” I say hollowly while I scribble the name Mariana Moretti into my portfolio.

“Dinner and drinks,” he says, his voice cautious.

“The Diamond Circle, I assume?” I write that down, too.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Next week. I had to rearrange one of your media appearances, but I assumed you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all. Did you have anything else on your agenda? Points of conversation that I should bring up with her?”

I finally look up from the portfolio when it occurs to me that my father has been silent for too long. He’s peering at me, his hands folded on the desk.

“Alexander.”

“What?”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

I shoot him a look. “I’m just meeting my obligations as crown prince. Is something wrong with what I’ve been doing?”

“No,” he says with the hint of a sigh as he slips off his reading glasses. “I’m a bit alarmed by your reaction to this conversation.”

I quickly glance back over the notes. “Why is that?”

“Alexander,” he speaks again, looking at me like I’ve just lied to him about sneaking out through the basement window and he knows the real truth. “You’re just going to blithely accept that I’ve scheduled a date for you? Not long ago, this same kind of discussion had you fleeing the country.”

I shrug one of my shoulders. “Things have changed since then.”

“And you’re completely satisfied with that?”

“Yes.”

He puts both hands on the surface of his desk and cocks his head. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“If that’s the case, why are you walking around with a stone-cold face like you’ve had an overdose of Botox? Why is every word out of your mouth flat and sad unless you’re giving an interview in front of a news crew?”

I look away. I don’t want to admit my answer out loud.

“Does this have to do with Jessica?” he asks point-blank.

Whipping my head back toward my father, I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off.

“Don’t try to tell me it doesn’t, son. It’s written all over your face. One minute she’s here, the next she’s back in New York and I’m having the public relations team issue a statement that she’s gone to visit family and didn’t want to make a fuss.”

“She didn’t want to stay anymore. What was I supposed to do, lock her in her rooms?”

“I don’t believe it was that simple.”

“You can believe what you want, father,” I say, tired of this discussion already.

“Alec,” he says, and I look back into his eyes. “First—it’s only a matter of time until we need to announce that Saintland’s Sweetheart isn’t…your sweetheart anymore…if she’s truly not planning to return. Second—you’re not required to tell me, but I sense that something happened between you two that you feel is irreparable.” He pauses. “I saw the way she looked at you whenever you were together.”

“It is irreparable.”

“If I can offer you one piece of advice, Alexander…” He glances at the wall to his left, where a framed picture of my mother hangs among several other family photos. “I would try to repair things before it’s too late. You can’t go on like this.”

“I won’t,” I say, trying to sound confident and reassuring, but failing miserably. “Someone else will come along.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Who knows? It could even be Mariana Moretti.”

My father doesn’t take the bait, just gives me a sad smile. “I just don’t believe she wanted to leave your side.”

“It’s all right,” I say, standing up to go. “She was too good for me anyway. It’s better this way.”

As I leave the council chamber, it stabs me like a knife in the heart. I felt so happy having her by my side, and I’d never been happier when I was kissing her, touching her, in bed with her.

It might have been the best thing for her when I told her to return to New York, but it’s misery for me.





Chapter 43

Jessica





Though not staying in New York occurred to me while I was sitting in the lobby of Heights Marketing, as soon as I’m back out on the street, breathing in the fresh air—well, if not fresh air, at least outside air—the wheels in my mind begin to spin faster and faster, fleshing out my plan.

I can’t stay in New York.

I can move to another city, one that has definite possibilities. Seattle.

I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before now. My college roommate Jamie has wanted me to visit Seattle, where she’s lived since we graduated, ever since we were ordering our graduation gowns. She’d researched all the best spots for nightlife and had a list.