Once Upon a Princess

“Your father sent me to bring you home.”

“I am home.”

The man’s perfection was marred by his sudden frown. “Back to Eliason.”

“You’re welcome to go back to Eliason or Amar on the very next plane out of Erie. But I’m staying here.”

“That’s it? I flew all this way to see my fiancée—”

“I am not your fiancée,” Parker interrupted.

“—and all you have to say to me is leave?”

“That’s about the shape of things. And speaking of leaving, I’m on my way out. You don’t mind closing up, Shey?”

“Of course not,” her friend assured her. She nodded toward the prince. “What about him?”

“Would you give him a ride to whatever hotel he’s staying at?”

“Sure.”

“Hey, watchdog, are you coming?” Parker asked.

“Uh.”

Jace wasn’t sure what to do. He was supposed to be trailing her, not escorting her. But even though she seemed totally in control, he knew she was upset.

“Sure thing,” he said. “How about I drive?”

“Sounds good to me, since I took the bus.”

“The bus?” the prince exclaimed. “My fiancée is riding public transportation?”

“You don’t have a fiancée, but if you were referring to me, then yes, I take public transportation. My father shut off access to my trust and I’m broke. So I sold my car.”

“But, but…” the prince sputtered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jace said. “I’ll see that she gets home all right.”

“Home,” she said to the prince. “I’m home and you need to go home. Go back to Amar. There’s nothing for you here in Erie—especially not a fiancée.”

With that she turned and walked out the door.

Jace felt some sympathy for the guy.

Tanner might be the suave, smooth sort of man that generally set Jace’s teeth on edge, but he’d just been totally shot down in front of witnesses. Jace could empathize with that.

He wondered who was going to empathize with his plight, because he was sure that Princess Parker was going to do her best to make him more miserable than the prince looked.

Maybe more miserable than the mysterious Hoffman.

Jace sighed as he chased after the princess.

It was going to be a long, hot summer.

Chapter Three

“I didn’t really take the bus this morning. I walked. It’s only a few blocks,” the princess—Parker—admitted.

Jace had known that. He’d been trailing her as she’d left her house that morning and walked the few blocks to Monarch’s.

She’d obviously forgotten she was his assignment, which meant she forgot that he knew where her house was. He didn’t remind her as she gave him directions. He preferred that Tanner be the focus of her ire, not him.

As they turned onto Front Street, she said, “That’s it,” and pointed.

Jace eased into the driveway of the neat, two-story brick home. It wasn’t quite a castle, but it was a beautiful house.

“It’s nice,” he murmured.

“Uh,” she said, “not the house. The garage.”

He knew that, as well, of course.

He knew the house belonged to a local manicurist who worked at a small beauty store across from Monarch’s. And that Parker had moved into the garage apartment three years ago.

What he didn’t know and hadn’t been able to figure out is why a princess, a woman who could buy and sell half of Erie, chose to live in a garage apartment.

Her father had prevented her access to her money, and Jace could have understood if she’d moved in recently. But she’d moved in right after college.

“Why?” he murmured.

“Why what?” Parker asked.

He hadn’t meant to ask the question out loud. But since she’d overheard, he figured what the heck and asked, “Why do you live in a garage?”

“Over the garage. There’s an apartment.”

“But you’re a princess. Why would you live over a garage? You could live anywhere.”

“Where should a princess live?” she countered.

“Never mind,” he muttered.

He wasn’t going to say that a princess should live in a castle. It was too cliché.

“Come on,” she pressed.

“Forget I asked.”