Page 68 of Royally Rivalled

I was relieved to watch Astrid lead. Since my father died, people at least had to pretend to defer to me now. It was stressful and often uncomfortable to be the last word. Astrid’s definitive confidence gave me respite. We place our orders. She, of course, ordered the veal. Iexpected her to—selfishly, if only because I was torn between the pasta and the veal and now could steal some of hers.

“What is the story with the card, Parker? Did you buy this for her only to re-gift it to me?”

I laughed. “Well, my grandmother on my father’s side has been dead since I was about six. The other lives in the Alps.”

“Must be nice.”

“Oh, she isn’t, but I am sure it is,” I said.

“Parker, tell us how youreallyfeel. How did you?—”

“A member of the department spotted me and asked me around. I said no and then didn’t want to spill the beans about taking you out—for the same reasons I expressed and not because I was ashamed to take you out. I panicked and grabbed a card without reading it. You seemed like a dog person.”

“You’re a mess. A handsome, ridiculous mess,” Astrid said.

Handsome? I’d take it.

“Well, happy birthday anyway—belated as it may be, Astrid. And cheers to another year.”

We clinked glasses. I tried very, very hard not to stare at Astrid’s cleavage as it screamed for attention. Astrid dug into a breadbasket as soon as it appeared.

“I have a silly question, Astrid.”

“Yes?”

“What year is it?”

“The year we are living in? Our present reality?”

“Quel âge as-tu?”

“Oh, how old am I? Twenty-two. You know, you could have googled me. It’s on my Wiki. That’s how I know you’ll be twenty-eight in February, you dirty old man.”

I snickered. “You googled me? I have a Wiki article?”

She nodded.

“Fuck off! How did that get there?”

“Either you have an admirer, or your mother is a mess,” Astrid said.

The woman could put away bread. I was relieved to hear she wasn’t just turning eighteen. She was an ingenue but notthatyoung.

“Probably mother, yes. She’s an overbearing pain in the arse.”

“I gathered.”

“In that little time?”

“I read people, Parker. Don’t underestimate me,” Astrid said. “You always do.”

“I don’t. One can be surprised without underestimation. However, few people can be so technically and socially gifted simultaneously.”

“So, are you doubting one?”

“No, darling,” I said, realising I had called her darling—in public—and unironically. “I’m not. I’m being genuine.”

“I cannot tell.”

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