Page 28 of Royal Agenda

Nancy hurried back to her phone.

Nancy: We need to get Grace and Ryker in the same place while she’s feeling pretty. Any ideas?

Polly: Let’s put Samantha’s plan in place. Time to get her a job and get Ryker to class.

Don: I’m on Ryber.

Don: *Ryker

Harry: I’ll help.

Don: Make an appointment at the barber shop for five minutes before class starts. I’ll meet you there.

Walt: ????

Rosa: ????????

Nancy stared at the screen, trying to decipher Rosa’s pictures. Cowboy, secrets, Sweetie, party? They were all positive, so she decided to move forward.

Nancy: Samantha and I will get Grace to class, and we’ll go from there. Can anyone meet me for lunch and help encourage her?

Polly: I can!

Winnie: Me too.

Nancy: Perfect!

She tucked her phone in her purse and changed clothes. The dress was out of her comfort zone but she always envied Grace’s style—maybe it was time she stopped envying and bought the dress.

Eight

Ryker opened the barber shop the same as every day, the movements robotic and scripted because his mind was on Grace and the brief interaction they had had the day before.

A wave could hardly be called an interaction and yet the moment consumed him.

She had seen him and waved.

He had waved back.

Which was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Nothing at all.

And yet . . . it was everything.

As the golf cart zoomed away, he felt as though he had missed his train and was left standing on the station—alone and bereft.

He did not enjoy that feeling.

He checked his schedule. It was packed with only a half-hour lunch break. Suddenly every man in The Palms wanted a trim. Was there a dance this weekend? A social? A gathering of some sort? He should have checked Samantha’s calendar at the start of the week but he’d been too busy with the SEAL team to have a spare moment and every spare thought he had was already promised to Grace.

He prepped what he would need for the first three men even as he replayed her soft smile over and over again like his sisters used to do when they found a song from an American boy band that made them swoon.

Yes, men could swoon. Although Ryker preferred to cause the swooning rather than experience it himself–although it was a rather nice experience and for Grace he’d repeat it as often as possible.

What was he to do about his romantic nature? Nothing. It was one of his best assets.

His first appointment, Carl, arrived. “Ciao, come stai?” Hello, how are you? he asked.

“Don’t drop that Italian on me, my good sir.” Carl sat in the chair. “Just give me a shave so the missus will let me smooch her again.”

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