Page 39 of A Royal Disaster
God knew she needed every dime she could scrape together. Between the downturn in business and Chad’s lawsuit, she was hanging by a thread. And according to the completely jaded dude at Legal Aid, the fastest way to make the lawsuit go away was to settle. The ass had even gone so far as to hint that perhaps Lena could borrow the money from her boyfriend if she couldn’t scrape the cash together herself. Just the memory of the consultation had her seeing red.
Over her dead body would she ask Liam for money.
“Girl, you read my mind,” Nia said, bumping Lena’s hip lightly with her own. “And if I just happen to hint to those cougars that Prince William might be dropping in more often, well, who’s to say it won’t happen?”
Lena rolled her eyes and asked, “How’re things going with Operation Seduce Ethan?”
Nia crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, one of her curls taking flight. “The man is oblivious to the art of seduction. I’m going to have to up my game.” She turned toward the object of her obsession, tilting her head as if studying a Picasso. “You know, maybe a big surly dude like Ethan needs a woman who isn’t afraid to take matters into her own hands.”
“Or maybe he’s focused on his work?” Lena offered. She didn’t even know if Jack and Ethan ever got a night off.
Nia made an inelegant noise. “No one is too busy for love.”
“Oh, it’s love now, is it?”
“Could be,” Nia said with a shrug. “Hard to tell when I can barely get two words out of the man.”
Lena smirked. “And all this time I thought you were only interested in his muscles.”
“What can I say? I’m feeling the whole package. Who knew strong and silent could be so sexy?”
Nia grabbed a handful of brochures off the counter and sashayed across the room, making a point of stopping to talk to Ethan on her way to the cluster of gossiping moms. Lena watched her friend, wishing she could approach Liam so boldly, despite the fact that every bone in her body—hell, every life experience—told her she wasn’t princess material.
And never would be.
…
Liam dropped his brush in the rinse jar and leaned back to study his handiwork. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something so simple—or relaxing—as paint. Despite the loud hum of the studio, he’d managed to slip into a state of quiet contemplation, the stress of the trade deals and his marriage predicament falling away as he’d poured himself—and the weight of his crown—into the painting.
Granted, he wasn’t going to win any awards, but he’d done a bloody fine job.
“What isthat?” the girl across from him asked, scrunching up her nose as she studied Liam’s tree and the self-portrait he’d painted alongside it. He’d replaced the entwined couple fromThe Embracewith his disapproving parents and the lone girl ofThe Expectationwith a silhouette of himself, the burden of his crown exaggerated on his brow.
Elena approached the table, splaying her fingers over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Be kind, Kiera,” she said when she finally got control of herself. “I think Prince William’s done a lovely job with…” She paused, stealing a glance at his canvas. “His painting.”
Great. Even Elena couldn’t see his vision.
Another boy moved to look over Liam’s shoulder. “Kind of looks like a zombie couple.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Kiera said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Princes don’t paint zombies.” She turned to Liam expectantly. “Do they?”
“No, no zombies. Not today anyway,” he said, throwing the boy a bone. “It’s actually—”
“I know!” shouted a girl with an oversized sparkly bow on her head. “It’s a picture of Miss Elena and Prince William!”
The little boy snorted. “If that’s a self-portrait, it’s not very good.”
Before Liam could respond and put an end to the discussion of his subpar artwork, another boy interjected, pointing at the impressionistic image Liam had painted of himself wearing the crown. “That one over there looks like a giant pen—”
“Time!” Elena called, cutting the boy off as she dropped a hand to his shoulder. There was a hint of laughter in her eyes.
So much for his artistic abilities.
The debate about his painting ended, Liam rose from the table and thanked the children for letting him join their group. Then he watched as they began the cleanup process. They emptied their rinsing jars in an industrial sink tucked into the back corner of the studio and rinsed their brushes. Then they worked as a team to pull up the brown paper that had been laid over the tables to catch spills. When they were done, they piled their aprons on a table, grabbed their paintings, and filed out with their parents. The studio was far from perfect, but they’d surely cut Elena’s cleanup work in half.
Once all the kids were gone, he approached Elena. “You run a tight ship.”
She shrugged. “Have to, otherwise the kids will run roughshod over us.” She wiped her hands on her apron and waved to Nia as her friend ducked out with an armload of textbooks. “Thank you for coming today and for being so patient with the kids. Everyone had a great time, and I know they’re going to be telling all their friends about the time they met Prince William.” Her eyes darted to his canvas, which was still on the table. “I’m sure they’ll be singing your artistic praises.”
