Page 115 of The Princess and the Fraud

Five dollars richer, I left the employee hallway and went into the main public space, heading for the café, seeing this world through a different lens. It was the last time I’d walk these marbled floors, the last time I’d listen to the soft music that filtered through the speakers of the building. I didn’t have to waltz through this world as nothing more than a shadow anymore. I could finally step out and into my own spotlight.

If anything, Alderton-Du Ponte just kept me stuck in the false belief that I needed my mother’s dream house. It taught me how to make myself smaller, to submit to what others wanted without fail. It quieted my voice, calmed my fire, and left me too afraid to raise my voice.

It was funny, all the things you noticed in hindsight.

A girl I didn’t recognize worked the café counter, and by the way she fumbled with the computer system, it was clear that she was new. I ordered an iced mocha latte, watching patiently as she typed it into the system, clearly nervous. I wondered if I looked like a guest to her.

Don’t lose yourself here, I wanted to tell her.Don’t lose yourself trying to impress them.

I had to walk out of the front lobby, since I no longer had a keycard to let me through the employee hallway, and I sipped my coffee on the journey. The air outside was crisp with promise, and I breathed it in, finally feeling ready to start over.

And then, in an almost cosmic joke, a car pulled up to the country club’s valet—and Aaron climbed out of the driver’s side.

With Caroline rising out of the passenger side.

The universe had a lame sense of humor.

“Lovey!” Caroline greeted warmly, as if we’d left on good terms last night. She was wearing a bright spring dress, with her hair coiled perfectly down her shoulders. Her sandals were white and strappy, with ugly rhinestones on the band that stretched across her exposed toes. “What are you doing here on your day off? Where’s your uniform?”

The way she asked—so casual, with that smug little smile—said everything. She knew.

Aaron handed off his keys to the valet and came around the car. He hesitated at her side, like some part of him knew this was all wrong.

I tried not to look at him, but my stomach still gave a violent twist. “You did me a favor,” I told her, giving my iced coffee a shake to disguise my shaking hand. “I was going to quit. At least now I can file for unemployment.”

Aaron’s head snapped toward Caroline. “What?” And then to me. “You were fired? For what?”

I’d been so determined to ignore him completely, but the words clawed their way out. “For kissing you.” I caught my straw between my teeth, staring Caroline down. “Guess someone felt threatened.”

Caroline wound her arm through Aaron’s, raising her eyebrows. “I wonder who?”

Even in her sandals, Caroline was as tall as Aaron—which I knew she must’ve hated. In fact, everything about Aaron went so far against what she preferred in a guy. In that moment, I felt bad for them both. Even Caroline. She didn’t want Aaron—as much as she denied it, I knew that truth. If Fiona hadn’t latched onto Aaron, I was certain Caroline wouldn’t have, either. And if I hadn’t wanted him, she never would’ve gone to the lengths she did.

But now she had him. The prize she’d clawed her way toward, not out of love, but out of spite. One day, she’d realize what she’d done. I wondered what she’d do then. Kick him to the curb, or stay with him to save face?

And how would Aaron feel when that happened?

On its own accord, my gaze slipped sideways. Looking at Aaron now, it was strange to think that, twenty-four hours ago, things had been drastically different. Heck, forty-eight hours ago, it’d been a different lifetime entirely. Before I’d kissed him, before I’d confessed, before he’d called things off with Fiona. Now, miles separated us, roadblocked so that neither of us could cross that distance again.

An unfinished symphony, never meant to be.

“You two are perfect for each other,” I said, staring Aaron down. I wanted to hit him, to shove at him like I had many times before, but I couldn’t. Because as angry as I was at him, my heart brokeforhim just the same. “Thriving in a world I want no part of.”

“I do feel sorry for you,” Caroline went on, eyebrows drawing together. “Things just never seem to go right for you. Some people just aren’t made for happily ever afters, I guess.”

“That’s not true,” I argued, wanting to catch the words before they made it to Aaron’s heart. I wondered if it was intentional that she was using his argument against me now—if she even knew it. “Everyone’s made for a happily ever after. Everyone deserves a chance at love. Even wicked witches like you.”

Caroline tossed her head of hair. “Just not the help.”

Aaron sucked in a sharp breath. Maybe he was about to defend me. Maybe he wasn’t. I didn’t care. “I’m not the help,” I said with a small smile on my face. “Not anymore.”

Without thinking twice, I let go of my iced latte, and it plummeted to the ground at our feet. It slammed into the sidewalk, the lid popping off on impact, and iced coffee sprayed up onto all of us, coating Caroline’s exposed toes.

She screeched as if it were acid instead of milk, stumbling back from the detonation site.

“You—you—” she sputtered, gripping Aaron’s arm. “These areClaire Hautes!”

I bent down and picked up the now-empty plastic cup from the sidewalk, flicking an ice cube out of the way to swipe up the straw. “Oh really? I thought they looked cheap,” I said, as if Claire Haute shoes didn’t cost me a week’s worth of pay. Those rhinestonesdidlook like they’d been hot-glued on, though.

---