I nod.
"I want to bring Olivia home with me, for the summer."
For a time, I was on the fence about the pretty New York baker. She put ideas in Nicholas's head, made him reckless. But she's a good lass--hardworking, honest--and she cares about him. Not about his title or his bank account. She couldn't give a shit about those and probably would prefer him without them. She makes him happy.
And in the two-odd years I've worked with the Crown Prince, truly happy is something I don't think I've ever seen him be.
"Is that wise?" I ask.
Olivia Hammond is a sweet girl. And the Palace . . . has a knack for turning sweet to sour.
"No. But I want to do it anyway."
And the look on his face--it's raw and exposed. It's yearning. From the outside looking in, you'd think there's nothing a royal could want that he can't have. Nicholas has private planes, servants, castles and more money than he can spend in a lifetime--but I can't think of a single instance when he did what he wanted, just for the hell of it. Or when he let himself do something he knew he shouldn't.
I admire him, but I don't envy him.
"Olivia wants to come, but she's worried about leaving her sister alone for the summer. Ellie's young, still in school and . . . naive."
She's got a wild streak in her too. As bright as the pink in her blond hair, which has been joined by blue, then green, during the two months we've been in New York.
"I could see her attracting trouble," I comment.
"Exactly. Also, Ellie will have to run the coffee shop on her own, with just Marty for help. Olivia's father is--"
"He's a drunk.
"
I'm good at spotting them too--can smell them from a mile away.
"Yes." Nicholas sighs. "Look, Logan, you've been around long enough to know that I don't trust easily, or often. But I trust you." He pushes a hand through his black hair and meets my eyes. "Which is why I'm asking you. Will you stay in New York? Will you help Ellie, watch over her . . . make sure she's safe?"
She seems like a decent girl, but I already said I wasn't a servant--and I'm also not a nanny. Protecting the royal family is a duty I've chosen; keeping tabs on an American teenage girl is a fucking headache waiting to happen.
Nicholas glances out the window. "I know it's a lot to ask. It's not your job; you can say no. But there's no one else I would choose . . . no one else I can depend on. So, I'd consider it a personal favor if you say yes."
Ah . . . hell.
I have a brother. To say I wish I didn't would be an understatement. And not in the same way Nicholas wishes his royal snot of a brother would grow the hell up, or how Miss Olivia seems put out by her younger sister at times. The world would be a better place if my brother weren't in it--and that's a stance shared by others.
But if I had a choice, if I could assemble a brother from the ground up, I would build the man sitting across from me right now.
Which is why, even though I'm going to bloody regret it, it takes only a moment before I give him my answer.
"James has a boy back home--about a year old, so he'll want to go home with you. Tommy'll be happy to stay--the Bronx is like his own personal harem. Between the two of us, and two more men, Cory and Liam maybe, we'll keep the girl out of trouble and the business afloat for the summer."
Nicholas's face splits into the biggest smile and relief lights up his eyes. He stands, holding out his hand to shake mine, pounding my shoulder with gratitude.
"Thank you, Logan. Truly. I won't forget this."
If nothing else, this summer will be . . . different.
* * *
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