Chapter 13

We scaled the Eiffel Tower, dined on caviar and champagne, and enjoyed the incomparable Louvre. Eugenie introduced me to her favorite café on boulevard Saint Germain. We drank rich, fragrant coffee from white cups monogramed in gold with the restaurant’s logo. At five, my sister introduced me to the Café Flore, a Paris must-experience. She asked the bartender to serve Absinthe. We watched as he slowly dripped a few drops of water over a sugar cube into the green, anise-flavored spirit.

“In 1912, Absinthe was banned in the United States because of its high-alcohol content.” Eugenie folded a bar napkin into a crown. “It was a favorite of turn-of-the-century writers and artists.”

“We’re neither.” I touched my drink to my lips.

“I don’t know about that. I can draw a scarcely-recognizable horse with a crayon.” Eugenie raised her glass to me. “To redheaded vixens.”

“She isn’t a vixen,” I protested.

“To a smart but dumb redhead,” she amended. “Who may or not be scheming and conniving.”

I shot her my big brother look, chiding her. “To Ginny MacDonald.”

“I’m buying Ginny a copy of Royalty for Dummies. Perhaps she can catch up before la merde frappe le ventilateur.”

Shocked, I gaped at my sister. “Such language…” I glanced around to see if anyone was listening before I finished, “From a princess.”

“I’m not that kind of princess.” She gave her fashionable blonde bob a toss. “I’ve changed my hair. Do you like the pink highlights around the face? Now, I always wear the cheapest clothes so that I don’t stand out. This dress is faux leather.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t work. Even if it did, as Heir Apparent, you lack that luxury. Shall I buy you a copy of Royalty from the Dummies Themselves?”

I shook my head. “No, thanks. I’ll wing it. I do like the pink streaks. But a princess in rags is still a princess. You were born to a King. I’m afraid, sister-dearest, you’ll have to live with all that entails.”

“I’m doing my best.” Abruptly, she stood, signaling me to follow. “It’s a beautiful evening. Let’s find a table near the street. This is a grand place for people watching.”

“My usual, Jacques.” My sister smiled at the server.

Arm-in-arm, Absinthe in hand, we trekked among the tables behind Jacques. I noticed, but didn’t mention, that Eugenie still enjoyed the perks of royalty. My sister walked without fear, but dread of freedom being snatched from us trailed me.

“Pardon, I—I hope I’m not intruding, Prince Alexander,” a woman said in halting French as a hand with rings on every finger captured my coattail.

I spun. “I’m sorry. I believe you have the wrong—” and broke off.

To my slack-jawed surprise, I found myself squinting at a gorgeous, shapely, gray-eyed, and ginger-haired vision in painted-on jeans. My first coherent thought was that peeling those white denims off would be like trying to erase an ink-stain. My second was totally amazing. I had absolutely no desire to get her out of her second skin!

“Good evening.” I slipped into my stage persona and smiled.

She flushed scarlet again, the blush accentuating a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. “You are Alexander.”

Ginny had a splattering of freckles across her nose. A vision of my pretty redhead in the candlelight stalled before my eyes. I missed Ginny far more than I should. All the reasons for not calling her evaporated in that thought.

I pressed a finger to the cleft in my lips. “Pretend I’m not who you think I am.” Slipping into my stage persona, I smiled. “You are?”

Two conversations were really being held, the one aloud, and the one in my mind.

“Alexandria Marchbanks. From Texas. My French is abominable.” She laughed softly, then switching to English. “People call me Alex. I can’t believe it’s really you. I—I, this is too marvelous to be true.” She performed an odd little happy dance. “My girlfriends simply won’t believe what they missed. Are you on vacation? I am. I don’t suppose you’re free this evening. We could—”

“I’m not, thanks, Alex. As you can see, I’m with my sister.”

Finally, she glanced at Eugenie. “I didn’t think you would be.” She sighed. “I won’t keep you. It was super meeting you. Au Revoir.”

At the door to the café, she turned and waved. Eugenie sighed theatrically. Even the word theatric now reminded me of Chrissy. “There’s our table. If we hurry and another of your fans doesn’t rape you on the way.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“I like having you with me. You draw all the fire. I can be invisible.”

“Oh, yes.” I rested a hand at her waist. “A woman with princess before her name and pink streaks in her hair is invisible.”

“Come, let’s forget the coffee.” She fluffed her hair. “We’re going to rock this city.”

“And be on the front page of the tabloids again tomorrow?”

Regardless of the press, we danced, sang along, and acted as if we were like the average brother and sister drinking champagne at crowded bars. Camera phones flashed. Professional cameras snapped candid photos of the Leandres siblings at play. I enjoyed my getaway, but always in the back of my mind, was a memory of Ginny waiting to surface and give me pause. Finally, alone in the king-size, I allowed her to capture my dreams. When the small, gold-and-white marble clock on the bedside table chimed three a.m., I fell asleep hugging my pillow and dreamed of Ginny sleeping beside me.

The ghost of Christmas Past or Christmas Future whispered in my dreams, Don’t let her tie a knot in your heartstrings.

***

“Good morning, Ginny.” Safe opening line. If I was supremely charming, maybe she wouldn’t remember I hadn’t called since last week’s date. Fully aware I tread dangerous ground, I stopped before the mirror so that my reflection could add a red silk tie to my navy suit. “How was your weekend?”

Computer keys clicked to an abrupt halt. “My weekend was quiet.” A pause, then, “Wait. I’ll start again. Good morning, Lex. Your picture on the tabloids was fuzzy, but you and your sister looked like you were having way too much fun.”

“Never too much. Paris is an exciting city, which brings me to the reason I called. Since our date last Wednesday, I’ve thought…Would you like to go to Paris? You’ve met my sister. We can hide out at her apartment and, using it as a base, plan our fun attacks on the city.” I finished the Windsor knot and paced, waiting for her reply. “Ginny?”

“Sorry, I had to make a note of a phone number before I forgot. Working girl.”

“I understand.”

“I’d love to go to Paris. With you. Do you think that wise?” Her voice grew distant, wary. “I’ll ask for time off.”

“Is that a yes or a no?” I prowled my cherry-paneled office like the caged animal I am. On a rococo credenza by the window sat a golden globe. It had been a gift from my sister on my twentieth birthday. I spun the world as we know it, trailing a finger over its etched surface. Where on the planet could Ginny and I find even an hour of privacy? Paris.

“It’s definitely a yes.” Her voice was as beautiful as I remembered. Like a warm stream or pastel colors trailing silkily over my skin, soothing the rebellion most people didn’t know simmered beneath my calm exterior.

“Excellent. This weekend? Early Friday to late Sunday.” I could enjoy the Louvre again and introduce Ginny to the Café Flore. Or stay home and get to know each other better. “Eugenie and I merely touched on the city’s glittering nightlife. She knows, or can find out, where to go.”

“This weekend will be great. If I can arrange Friday off.” The excitement shading Ginny’s voice faded to wary. “Oh, hi, Chrissy,” she said away from the phone. “Of course, you can have the legal pad.” She returned to me. “Thank you. I’m really looking forward to it.”

I laughed as I sank down in my executive chair. “Now, you’ll tell me Chrissy is going with us.”

“Not on your life,” Ginny emphasized. “Sorry. Can you hold or may I call you back? Another line is ringing. Chrissy, could you grab line two on that phone beside you, please?”

“I’m polishing my nails, hon.” Her voice was honey sweet. “Put whoever you’re talking to on hold,” her supposed friend said loud enough for me to hear.

Polishing her nails in the embassy front office! What had the Calhouns taught their daughter of manners—and being a friend?

“I’ll hold, Ginny. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, Lex.”

In the background, I heard Chrissy’s incredulous question. “You’re putting a prince on hold to answer another call? Oh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Tell her it’s a personal call.” Annoyed, I imagined Chrissy casually filing her nails while Ginny frantically juggled calls. “I’ll ring you back later today.”

Stress hurried my redhead’s, “Thank you.”

The instant I ran off with Ginny, my office phone clamored. My assistant announced my riding companion from the Horse Guard. The man was German, efficient to the point of OCD, and very Aryan in appearance. The women loved his blond hair and blue eyes.

He never opened a call with a greeting. I wasn’t an exception. “Peter here,” he said.

“Good morning, Peter.” I twirled my mobile on my desk, thinking of Ginny, the ringing phones, and Chrissy’s laziness. “I’ll meet you by D’or’s stall in thirty minutes. I have to jump into my riding gear.”

When we’d rung off, I buzzed my assistant and asked Johanna to check on availability of the plane this weekend. With a glance at the clock that ruled my life, I dialed Eugenie to confirm that my red-haired vixen and I would arrive early Friday morning.

***

Ginny’s POV

Excitement glazed Ginny’s skin. Pleasant little shivers darted over her. Once, she’d have anticipated telling her friend the amazing news, but things had changed. Now, Chrissy acted more like an adversary than a friend.

“Did he hang up?” Languidly, Chrissy unfolded from her chair and stretched. “Putting the Prince on hold. I don’t know what daddy would say about that.”

On a wave of perfume, she washed to Ginny’s desk and stood staring, possibly overhearing, as she scribbled down the message that had caused Ginny to hang up on a prince. She tried to remind herself that she wouldn’t be in Desjardins if it weren’t for Chrissy. Was the other woman envious enough to cause her trouble with John?

She disconnected and looked up at Chrissy, still standing and staring at her. “I don’t think the ambassador will say anything. It was a personal call. Even if he kept up with things like breaks, I’m due one.” She gave her friend her sweetest smile, hoping in some vain way to make amends. She drew the line at an apology. There was no need to be sorry.

“A personal call from the Prince.” Chrissy’s voice was as ugly as her expression. “Well, isn’t that special? Did he ask you to another candlelight dinner?”

“Well, yes…and no.” The devil on Ginny’s left shoulder defeated the angel on her right. Mischief overcame her.

“What are you talking about? Either you have a date with him, or you don’t.” Chrissy spun Ginny’s prized red stapler on the marble top of her desk.

Ginny had pointed out the mahogany desk at an antique shop. From his own funds, John had bought the ornate piece for her office. The desk like the red stapler Ginny had bought wasn’t standard government issue. A cherry red Swingline stapler played a prominent role in the 1999 cult classic, “Office Space”.

“Well, do you have another date with the Prince?” Chrissy’s bitter question snapped Ginny back to the moment.

Irritation flashed over her on a hot wash. “I do. Whether it will be a candlelight dinner, I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to act so smug,” Chrissy said. “You’ve won. And I didn’t even know I had competition. Don’t you think that was a little sneaky? I mean, you should have told me.”

“I tried.” She tossed an exasperated gesture. “You didn’t listen.”

Chrissy sashayed to her chair, picked up her nail polish. “Where’s the Prince taking you?” If she’d made an attempt to sound anything but petty, she failed.

“Chrissy, he’s always been my dream man. You knew that. I didn’t sneak behind your back. After the ball, he called me. I never had the chance to tell you before you confessed you were setting your cap for him.” Ginny made a last-ditch attempt to save their friendship.

“You let me make a fool of myself.” She jabbed the air with a rigid finger pointed at Ginny. “You let me babble on until I confessed that I wanted to go after him.”

“Good morning. How are my two favorite ladies?” John strode into the reception area, newspaper tucked under his arm.

The cheerful greeting was a welcome rescue. The quarrel had threatened to become an all-out cat fight. “Good morning, Mr. Ambassador.” She tossed John a relieved smile.

“Morning, Dad.” Chrissy sulked.

“What’s wrong with my favorite daughter?” He slid an arm around his only daughter’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug.

Oh, hell, here it comes. Ginny tensed for the shot. Chrissy’s aim was infallible.

“Nothing.” The sullen blonde hugged her father, gazing at Ginny over his shoulder.

In those deep brown eyes, Ginny saw something wicked flicker.

“Ginny just hurt my feelings, that’s all.” She broke the embrace. Straightening his tie, she cast her gaze to the floor.

The ambassador glanced at Ginny, back at his daughter. “I’m sure there’s some mistake. Let’s discuss this. Get things straight again between two best friends. That is my job after all.”

Ginny wanted to bolt for her room on the one hand; on the other, to stand and show John his daughter’s true colors, which she’d unwittingly discovered.

“I’m fine with letting it go.” Ginny opted for the safest route to getting Friday off.

“Well, I’m not,” Chrissy snapped.

How could this horror scene be happening? They’d been best friends since kindergarten. Nostalgic tears burned Ginny’s eyes. She didn’t have the heart to fight Chrissy over a man. Her inner voice disagreed. Not even Lex. She called herself every kind of romantic, none of them good, but in the end, the man she loved was at stake. Ginny was ninety-nine percent certain Chrissy wouldn’t consider his happiness. She steeled for the dramatic finale, tilted her chin, and waited.

Chrissy sniffled. Was this the first man she’d ever lost to another woman? Lex, the biggest prize of all, came with a scepter and crown. Chrissy might like living in a palace. Ginny would live with him in a cardboard box, and the crown was far too weighty to covet.

The flood gates opened, and tears welled in Chrissy’s big innocent eyes. “She’s dating Prince Alexander. I mentioned that I might like to go out with him, but she didn’t tell me she already had a date with him. We’ve always told each other our secrets. It hurt, and she deliberately let me make a fool of myself.”

Her father patted her back. “Now, now, darling. I’m sure there’s some mistake. Maybe they’re not dating, per se.”

“He just called and asked Ginny out again.” Chrissy batted at the tears clinging to her lashes.

“Let’s allow Ginny to tell her side of the story.” The ambassador turned a fatherly smile on Ginny that made her feel wretched.

When only moments ago, she’d been out-of-this-world happy.

“I’m sorry, Chrissy. As you know, last Wednesday night I had a dinner date with Alexander. He just called and has asked me…out again. I like him, and I accepted.” Ginny couldn’t tell the ambassador that Desjardins’ Heir Apparent had planned an intimate weekend in Paris. Likely, the date was a clandestine affair he preferred to keep secret. “But I did try to tell Chrissy the first time but never had the chance before she announced her intentions. Chrissy, hon, please listen.”

“You might have tried, but not very hard. There was plenty of time. You felt guilty, that’s all.” Chrissy fixed Ginny with an accusing gaze. “Dad, you don’t have to get involved with our squabbles. Thanks. We’ll deal with this ourselves.”

Ginny had had enough. She modulated her voice reasonable, but she wanted to slap Chrissy. “There is nothing to deal with. I didn’t lie, by omission or otherwise.”

“This is simply a case of misunderstanding.” Unaware of the actual circumstances, the Ambassador tried to placate the opponents. “Chrissy, darling, the Prince called Ginny, not you. There’s nothing we can do about that.”

If Ginny thought of him as John, it would hurt. Going forward, she must think of him as her employer, the Ambassador. If Chrissy could behave like this in his office and he didn’t object, he was wrapped around his spoiled daughter’s pinkie. Ginny’s respect for John Calhoun took a nosedive.

“Okay, okay.” Chrissy flung her hands up in a dramatic closing gesture. “We’ll pretend nothing ever happened.” She spun, and without a goodbye or a backward glance, she marched toward the door, muttering, “But it did.”

“Chrissy,” the Ambassador called as she opened the door. “Come back here,” but he followed, giving in to her temper tantrum.

Ten minutes ago, Ginny had been dancing on cloud nine. “Love changes everything. Brings you glory, brings you shame.” A tear slid down her cheek as Andrew Lloyd Webber’s lyrics spooled through her mind. “Nothing in the world will ever be the same.”

A sudden realization winded her. If Chrissy continued on this path, she’d have to return home. And leave Lex to suffer her friend’s—ex-friend’s—wiles. Not likely. Sadness welled in her heart. She reminded herself that her future was carved in stone—medical school, a career, maybe a husband. Maybe not. Now, her stubborn heart refused to listen.

Ginny harbored no illusions. She didn’t know how and where her fairytale romance would end but end it must. Marriage was out of the question. However, she’d stay with it until the bitter end.

“Somehow, I’ll have to make other living arrangements,” she vowed, and the phone rang.

“Everything is arranged for this weekend.” The mere sound of his voice lifted Ginny’s spirits.

Her heart slammed to a painful halt. In the ugly death of a friendship, she’d forgotten to ask for Friday off. “That’s perfect. I look forward to spending some time together…and to getting to know your sister.”

“Eugenie is excited about our visit. We’re an excuse for a trip to the zoo. I’ll be at your door at eight o’clock Friday morning.” He breathed a laugh, captivating Ginny. “Ring you later this week. Au revoir.”

The ambassador returned, giving her an odd look as he passed her desk. Or maybe it wasn’t so odd, considering the circumstances.

“Au revoir. See you soon.” As she settled the receiver in the cradle, and a call came in on line two. Strange, but then she’d been from one line to the other all morning. She answered, hoping she sounded professional not giddy.

“I’ll make this short and simple enough for you to understand,” a refined female said, and Ginny pressed record on her cell. Odd, she thought she’d heard that voice. “If you persist in seeing Prince Alexander, you’ll lose your position at the embassy. I’ll personally see to it.”

Ginny’s first reaction was cold, hard fear. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. Don’t make me mad enough to cry. Damn, was the entire world against them? A deadly calm settled on her. No one, including Chrissy or this mystery caller, could chase her away from Lex except Lex himself.

Ginny trained her voice icy calm and emotionless. “Don’t call on the embassy’s phone line with a personal message. Have a good night, Ma’am.” She dropped the phone into the cradle. “I should listen to my head, not my heart, and go home. There’s no place for me in Desjardins.”

The intercom buzzed. “Ginny, could you please come into my office?”

Sickness pooled in the bottom of her stomach. OMG, would this day never end? Had the mysterious stranger hung up on one line and somehow called the ambassador? A chill ran over her. Trying to remain positive, she tapped on the beautiful, sculpted door. When he answered, she took a deep breath of courage, and turned the brass doorknob.

The ambassador gestured at a hunter green wingback. “Sit down, Ginny.”

“Thank you.” She felt like she was trembling all over, but the hands she rested on the chair arms were steady.

John’s desk was a larger replica of hers. When the three of them were antiquing one Saturday, she’d pointed it out. He’d bought the pair. He picked up a pen from the salmon-and-black marble top and made a note in a file. Without looking up, he said, “A minute ago, I received a call from the King of Desjardins. He called for a specific purpose.”

Her heart stopped. She tensed, perched on the edge of her chair. The threat replayed in her ears. Had the King called to ask that she be dismissed?

The ambassador met her gaze and smiled. “He wanted to tell me what an exemplary assistant you are. That’s not the only commendation from our clients—foreign heads of state, diplomats, and obviously Kings—I’ve received. I wanted to tell you and let you know that I’ve begun unraveling the government red tape to get your salary increased. Thank you from me, too. You’re doing a great job.”

He rose and came around the desk. “I received a strange call on my cell phone while I tried to find Chrissy. She’s disappeared. The car is gone. I can’t imagine where she’d go.”

“I’m sure she’s okay.” What the hell was Chrissy up to? “What did this strange caller say?”

He hesitated. “That you and Lex were having a clandestine affair.”

“What did you say?” Ginny gasped.

“Not in so many words, but I told her to mind her own business.” He looked back as the gold clock on the mantel stuck five times. He extended his hand. “Let’s go find Chrissy.”