Page 68 of Royal Icing
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LEO
Leo’s footstepsthundered down the castle hallway. Broken china shifted in his backpack, an audible reminder of what an imbecile he was.
Fool. Bumbling idiot. There weren’t enough insults in the dictionary to cover how asinine he had been.
Emma had told him that she’d been a victim of domestic violence—angry outbursts from an abusive father. And what did he do? Shattered a bunch of china in his haste to strip her bare.
What the hell was wrong with him?
This was a major screwup. There were only a few more days until the ball, and after that, she’d be on a plane bound for New York. He had fumbled the time they had left. He needed to apologize, but he didn’t want to scare her.
He opened the door to his suite and dropped his bag inside to be dealt with later. His gaze landed on his sink. Maybe there was something he could do for Emma, a small way to apologize. With a little bit of help.
Twenty minutes later, a sharp tapping sound came from his front door, and he opened it to find Ruby pushing a cart laden with dishes.
“Why the hell did you need twenty dirty baking sheets from the kitchen? You know Emma’s going to need these.”
“Shh. In here.”
Leo ushered Ruby into his suite and ducked his head out into the hallway. It was empty. The door snapped shut, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“You weren’t seen?” he asked.
“No,” she said slowly. “What is this about?”
He wheeled the cart into his kitchenette and turned on the faucet. He searched for the right words.
“You can’t tell Mother and Father. Or John. I need to apologize to Emma. This is the only thing I could think of.”
Ruby looked suspiciously at the pile of dishes.
“What did you do?”
He froze. While context would be helpful, he hadn’t asked Emma if he could share her story.
“It’s…not really my story to tell,” he said. “But I was an idiot.”
Ruby smiled. “Oh, man. Mom’s going to be so pissed. You fell in love with an American.”
Leo sputtered, and his heart rate ticked up a notch. “I’m not in love. I barely know her.”
She scoffed. “Whatever you say. This is a start, but it’s not enough.”
He sighed. “Okay, then what do you think I should do?”
She seemed to consider for a moment. “Didn’t you say she has like a million Christmas traditions with her mom?”
“Yes.”
“And you have her mom’s phone number?”
“I don’t. But I’m sure Beatrice does.”
“Call her. Then give Emma a piece of home.” Ruby crossed to the kitchen and grabbed the remote. The TV flickered on, and a Christmas movie started playing.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
