Page 43 of Royally Redeemed
Before I continued, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was Jax.
She asked excitedly, “So, you are coming to London?”
“I planned on it,” I answered. “Will I see you at the office or the Palace? I have a feeling we will go straight there.”
“Oh, you’ve got this. I spoke with the director yesterday and she’s interested to get to know him. How are things? Are you hanging in there? Must be nice.”
I informed her of the Great Flood of Christmas Past via email, but didn’t receive a reply. I lost several things and now I’d be replacing them since she never offered. I knew I could probably ask John if they could pay, but I didn’t want to scream “I’m too poor to afford this shit” to the rest of the house.
“Well, my pipes burst and I am trying to eke out sharing space with my client,” I said.
I did not mention the walk-in wardrobe that smelled delightful or the bathroom I would gladly spend days in. I was building sympathy here.
“Yes, it must be dreadful staying in an enclosed space with a beautiful man like that.”
I looked at the note in my hand. “He’s fine. He’s doing well. Behaving.”
“Good, good. No, I won’t be there.”
“You… won’t?”
“I was invited to a tantric yoga workshop with Brad. I cannot miss it.”
I tried not to audibly gag. I had no idea who Brad was, but pictured some sixty-something creeper. Tantric yoga? I was so not on board.
“You do realize he isyourclient, right? I will be making decisions in abstentia for you.”
“In what?”
“Abstentia?”
“What?”
She wassodense.
“Never mind. On behalf of you.”
“That’s fine. I never wanted him as a client. Full of drama, those people!”
I rolled my eyes. It was literally our job tomanagepeople and their drama.
“Sure. I will handle it. And keep you updated.”
“Just send me an email.”
“When can we discuss my pay rise?”
Silence.
“Let’s watch him finish this out and we will talk, alright?”
I set my jaw, angry. To avoid saying something I shouldn’t, I said. “Oh, would you look at that, I have to go! See you later, Jax! Bye!”
I hung up and dropped the note in bed. I read his salacious words, but had little time to fuss with what he wanted. As hot as punishing my older, hot princely boss was, I was too hot about my promotion to think sexy thoughts. I needed coffee.
I opened the door, still wearing my nightgown, and nearly ran into Duncan on my way to the kitchen. He was shirtless, in a swimsuit that leftnothingto the imagination and tracking down the hallway. His abs were… impressive. But it was histhighsthat were doing it for me in the moment. Holy hell!
“Oh, Miss Mills. How are you?”
