Page 57 of RAKEish

“I’m trying to imagine a single situation in which you would need the arcane,” Lux said. The thought of Ms. Birdie, with her air of high society, delving into the world of the obscure was both intriguing and amusing.

“You’d be surprised how often those in my circle find themselves seeking peculiar solutions for unique problems,” Ms. Birdie said, her smile hinting at knowledge not everyone was privy to.

“Such as?” Lux asked, leaning forward.

Ms. Birdie’s expression turned cryptic, a hint of reluctance in her eyes. “That’s a lengthy discussion for another day.” Her tone was now more tart than sweet. Definitely not one that invited further nibbles of nosiness. “Shall we get down to the business of why I invited you here?”

Unease replaced Lux’s curiosity. “I assume it has something to do either with the gala or with the interview committee.”

Ms. Birdie leaned in, creating an intimate space between them amidst the bustling cafe. “Darling, when I sent you on this journey to prove you were right and Scott was wrong, I did so with the best intentions.”

“But?” Lux asked when the woman stopped there. “There is a but coming, correct?”

“But,” Ms. Birdie said, shadows of regrets in her eyes, “you know what they say about good intentions.”

“The road to hell is paved with them,” Lux finished glumly. “You asked me here to inform me I will not be given the position at Columbia regardless of how mine and Scott’s challenge ends. My reputation is too tattered.”

Ms. Birdie nodded, reaching across the table enveloping Lux’s hands with her own. “Don’t look so defeated. I haven’t abandoned you. I’ve a new plan. An improved one.”

Lux sighed, exhaustion making her shoulders heavy. An exhaustion that had nothing to do with how little sleep she’d gotten last night but everything to do with the emotional rollercoaster she’d been riding without a seatbelt. “I’m listening.”

Ms. Birdie withdrew her hands and sat back, her posture regal. “It starts with breaking the curse that prevents Scott from falling in love.”

Lux gave a half-assed derisive snort. She simply didn’t have the energy to pull off a convincing one. “Why would I care about his curse if my winning will net me nothing?” What would she do next year? Where would she teach? Without permission or warning, a tear slid down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

“Darling, this is not the time to cry over wayward plans.” Ms. Birdie paused and offered Lux a sympathetic glance. “It’s the time to look at a new set of blueprints.”

Lux frowned. Easy for her to say. Her life wasn’t circling the drain. “I should have never gone to Frankie. This is all…”

“My fault,” Ms. Birdie finished when Lux didn’t.

Lux blew her nose. She wasn’t a fan of the blame game. She was an adult, and no one had forced her to do anything. “I crossed a professional and on-air line. I have no one to hold accountable but myself.”

“Blame is a fruitless endeavor,” Ms. Birdie said, her eyes soft with empathy. “Right now, we need to focus on finding the best outcome for both you and Scott given the current news.”

“And that would be for Scott to win so he has the option of keeping his position at Naked Runway should he decide to abdicate from Shiretopia.” It wasn’t until she spoke the words out loud that she even realized a pathetic part of her hoped that was his plan. That he would stay and choose her over his country and his duties. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Ms. Birdie gave her a startled look but nodded.

“I see,” Lux said. The Rake of Manhattan was absolutely not the right man for her. End of story.

Well…it wouldn’t be the end of the story. No, Lux had no doubt she would someday be a footnote in some PhD’s thesis. A thesis titled: Penis Gate. That time a professor blew up her career by publicly predicting the demise of a man’s penis.

Ms. Birdie’s gaze locked with Lux’s. “I promise if you help me help him, I will find a solution for you that will surpass your dream of landing the tenure-track position at Columbia.”

Lux offered a wistful smile. She liked Ms. Birdie. “I suppose I’ve nothing left to lose.”

“Then you’ll help break the curse?” Ms. Birdie asked.

Lux nodded as she allowed her analytical mind to kick into gear. “If it’s a psychological curse, I could refer him to a therapist.” And of course it was psychological. While this morning she’d entertained the idea of it being real, common sense said otherwise. Then again, common sense said her spoken nightmares before breakfast wouldn’t come true either, yet they had up until her broken penis prediction. Neither it nor the analyzed version had panned out. “A good one could help him work through whatever’s blocking him from accepting love.”

Ms. Birdie chuckled softly. “Oh, my dear, it’s far from psychological. His great, great and possibly another great grandfather managed to infuriate a wicked witch, resulting in a curse on him and all his first-born descendants.”

Lux raised her eyebrows. Ms. Birdie was turning out to be far more intriguing and way less conventional than Lux had initially assumed. “You genuinely believe in his curse? You don’t think it’s a fanciful tale Scott concocted to use as a pickup line in a bar?”

Ms. Birdie’s grin broadened, showing off lovely laugh lines. “A wealthy, handsome prince like Scott doesn’t need fanciful tales to garner attention. But really, how effective do you think a line like I can’t fall in love would be in a bar?”

Lux leaned back. “There is a certain type of woman who’s drawn to a man claiming his heart is irreparably broken. This type of woman is compelled to try to mend a man. Just as there is a type of woman who will fall all over themselves to prop up the man who complains his wife does nothing but tear him down.”

---