Page 27 of Rags to Royals

Yeah, I fucking remember. I shake more cereal out into my hand, toss it into my mouth, and crunch aggressively.

I’m going to figure out whatthatmeans too. Tonight.

But Scarlett would rather have people think her daughter is a liar than to claim having spent time with me? No.

I close the cereal box, returning it to the shelf, then step out from the pantry. “Well, we could just leave Scarlett out of it. I could show up and prove to everyone at school thatMariahknows me.”

Mariah and Greta spin so fast on their stools they nearly topple to the floor. Then their gasps are so loud that I’m afraid they actually swallowed their tongues.

Henry looks vastly amused. Ruby looks torn between laughing and crying.

“This all seems really dramatic and easily fixed,” I say.

“Oh my God, “Mariah finally says. “You’re Cian O’Grady. You’re actually here.”

It’s so obvious this is Scarlett’s daughter. She has the same silky dark hair, the same round face, the same nose. Even her eyes are the same shape as Scarlett’s—and Ruby’s, I guess—but her eyes are brown instead of her mom’s green. Otherwise, she’s a beautiful younger version of her mother and aunt.

“Yup.” I decide to dive right in. “I’m here to see your mom.” And now, I’m suddenly thinking that I’m here to save Mariah.

I’ve maybe been avoiding being a prince, but I think I could get into Knight in Shining Armor.

Mariah takes a step back and plunks down onto her stool, staring at me. “You really have been trying to find her. You came all this way just to see her?”

I smile. “Have you met your mom?”

Mariah’s smile is bright in return. “She’s awesome, right?”

“Very,” I agree.

Mariah shakes her head. “But she made it sound like she was never going to see you again. I never expected to actually meet you.” She looks at Greta. “Oh my God!”

“Well…” I hate hearing that Scarlett expected to never see me. To the point that she convinced her daughter it was never going to happen. “Your mom doesn’t know I’m here. It’s going to be a surprise.”

“That makes sense,” Mariah says. “That’s probably the only way you’ll get to see her. But she’s going to hate that. She’s not really into surprises.”

Great. One more check mark in the bad idea column.

“This isamazing,” Greta gushes.

I turn to the cute, skinny blonde. She is staring at me with less awe and wonder and more of a sly look. As if she’s hatching a plan.

She grabs Mariah’s hand, squeezing. “Leah is going to have to apologize toyoufor all the times she called you a liar. For all the terrible things she said about you and your mom. I can’twait!”

I don’t know who Leah is, or who Hannah is, or who Mrs. Carter is…but I don’t like any of them. If they’re giving Scarlett and Mariah a hard time, they’re on my shit list. I don’t care if one of them is only fifteen or sixteen. I was definitely a pain in the ass when I was that age.

I’m further annoyed and even more restless to see Scarlett after we order burgers and fries via takeout from the diner downtown and settle in to eat around the kitchen island.

Ruby grabs the bacon barbecue burger with cheddar cheese and Sriracha pickles along with an order of seasoned curly fries. She leaves the teriyaki chicken sandwich with grilled pineapple wrapped up.

I frown as I take a huge bite of my basic double cheeseburger. I watch her eat for a moment, then swallow and ask, “Is that your favorite burger?”

She looks up at me, and nods. “I love barbecue sauce. On anything. I always get barbecue burgers. Why?”

“It’s not Scarlett’s favorite?”

Understanding dawns on Ruby’s face. “She likes the teriyaki chicken.”

“If she was going to order a burger with all of you, what kind would she get?”

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