Finding Prince Charming

When I get to the Garden Estate, I find Natalie, Stephanie, and Jasmine in the sitting room. Jasmine is talking a mile a minute about the room and Natalie is smiling tightly at her, trying to remain interested, but no doubt freaking the hell out on the inside.

“Stephanie.” The three women swivel around to face me. “Can you take Jasmine to the kitchen for a few minutes?” Stephanie’s eyes bug out.

I step over to Jasmine and bend slightly in front of her. “Chef Sandra makes the best pastries and desserts. How would you like to have a piece of cake while I speak to your mom?”

Jasmine’s blue eyes—the ones identical to my own—light up, but then she looks at her mom for approval, and my stomach knots at the fact I’m a stranger to my daughter, a man she knows as nothing more than the King of Lexenburg. She needs her mom’s approval because she’s her parent.

“Someone will stay with her?” Natalie confirms.

“Stephanie won’t leave her side.”

Stephanie’s eyes form small slits. She’s a smart woman and is no doubt putting the pieces together. She might not know Jasmine is my daughter, but that’s only because she hasn’t looked into her eyes yet. I’m the only one in my family left with those blue eyes. My dad had them and his dad did as well. Everyone else has brown eyes, a few green. But not blue.

“Go ahead,” she tells her daughter—our daughter. “I’ll meet you in there in a few minutes.” She winks and Jasmine grins. It’s so big a tiny dimple pops out of her left cheek—just like mine.

“Okay,” Jasmine tells her. Then she leans in close to her mom, as if she has an important secret to tell her. “I’ll try to save you a piece,” she whisper-yells, making me chuckle. She’s so young and innocent… and mine.

Fuck, she’s mine.

Stephanie takes her by her hand and escorts her out of the room, closing the door behind them. I walk over to the bar and make myself a scotch, neat. Then, remembering my manners, I hold up my glass. “Want one?” She shakes her head and I down the drink in one swallow.

“You left,” she says before I can gather my thoughts to speak.

Her words bounce around in my head, and once they land, I sit in front of her and look her dead in the eyes. The same mesmerizing brown eyes I’ve thought about so many times over the years.

“You left.”

She scoffs. “Excuse me?” She crosses her arms over her chest and my eyes descend to her ample cleavage, my mind—and dick—remembering the way her pretty pink nipples would peak at my touch. I slam the door on that thought. Now is not the time.

“At the hotel in Las Vegas…when I came back in from speaking with Harold, you were gone. The bed was empty and your clothes and camera were gone.”

“I only left because you left,” she argues. “I woke up and the room was barren of all your stuff. You were nowhere to be found.”

I think back to that day, everything that happened, and it hits me… “You thought I left you.”

“You did leave me.”

Six Years Ago

The incessant buzzing won’t stop, so I grab my phone off the bedside table and look to see who’s calling this early in the morning. Then I remember it’s only early here. Where I live, it’s several hours later. The name on my screen flashes Mom. She wouldn’t call unless it’s important.

Glancing at Natalie, who’s fast sleep, I climb out of bed and head out onto the balcony to return her call.

“Oh, William,” my mom breathes, her voice cracking. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and your brother all morning.” Without having to ask, I know something is terribly wrong. My mom is the most relaxed woman I know. She handles any situation that’s thrown at her with patience. She’s the calm to my dad’s storm.

“What’s the matter, Mom?”

“It’s your dad,” she says through a soft sob. “He’s had a heart attack.”

My world tilts on its axis at her words. We knew he was sick, but I never thought something would happen during our week away. “Is he…” I can’t finish my sentence.

“He’s in critical condition. You need to come home now.” In other words, he may not make it.

“We’re on our way. I love you.”

“Love you too, Son.”

We hang up and I go on autopilot, packing my luggage, getting dressed, and getting Harold up to speed. I call the pilot and he tells me because of the storm it will be a few hours before we can take off.

I glance over at Natalie, who’s still blissfully asleep. I need to wake her up and tell her my trip is being cut short. But then I think about how hard it’s going to be to say goodbye. We don’t have any hope of a future. Her life is here and mine is thousands of miles away, across the pond, in Lexenburg.