Page 47 of Rags to Royals

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. You can’t spend time with a prince who is regularly covered on a podcast that some people here have discovered, so I’m now a professor of world history and political science. My car broke down as we were coming through Emerald. You’re fixing it. But it’s a fancy something and you have to order a special part that will take a few days.”

“You don’t even know what kind of car you’re pretend driving?” she asks, the tiniest hint of a smile teasing her lips.

I shake my head, fully smiling. “Henry made that part up. I didn’t really catch it. The rest of this we’ve done before.”

“You’ve been a professor of world history and political science named Dean Brady before?”

I nod. “Yep. Have the ID, the papers, all of it.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh.”

I shrug. “I’ve been doing the royal in hiding for a while.”

“So who is Henry supposed to be?”

“Henry Duke. He says Henry is a common enough name he can keep using it.”

“Is he also a professor?”

“I’m his boss, actually,” Henry says, coming up beside us.

I also made him cut his hair—which he’s pissed about—shave, and drop his British accent, which he says Ruby will be pissed about.

Then he sighed and said she’s already avoiding him anyway so it didn’t matter.

The two of them are really pretty pathetic.

“Head of the department at…” Henry frowns. “I need to look up which college we’re supposed to be with.” He looks at Scarlett. “We haven’t done this in about five years.”

“Been professors who have car trouble?” Scarlett asks.

“We haven’t had car trouble before. We’ve been traveling for book research. Traveling back from a conference.” Henry glances at me. “Usually things that only require us to stay wherever we are for a night or so. We’ve never needed nineteen days before. We have to draw this one out.”

She nods her understanding. “Well, you’re both handsome, charming strangers. I don’t think anyone is going to dig too deep. At least not as long as you’re respectful to the right people. But to that end, you might want to go to church on Sunday.”

I frown but Henry says lightly, “Sounds like I could make a hundred bucks if I tell Mariah I’m taking her out for donuts and take a detour.”

Scarlett shakes her head. “God, that’s fucked up, right?” She looks between us. “I mean, hergrandfatheris paying people to get her to church? Under the guise of what? Friendship? Maybe a cute boy pretends to be interested in her and tricks her into it?”She rubs her forehead. “That would be ironic. And hypocritical. But he’d do it that way.”

She’s almost talking to herself.

“Were those women mean to you in high school or something?” I ask.

She looks up at me, startled. Then she laughs. “Oh, God no. I was mean tothem, Cian.” She sighs. “I don’t actually blame Hannah for totally hating me. I just wish she’d leave our girls out of it.”

I have so many questions. I don’t likeanyof this.

Henry suddenly moves in a little closer to Scarlett and stands taller. He clears his throat, then asks, “So you think it will be that long for the part?”

I realize a man has come up to the carry out counter and Henry has shifted into character.

“Isn’t there anything you can do to speed it up?” Henry asks Scarlett.

Scarlett catches on immediately. “Yeah, sorry. We’re a small operation. Not much I can do.” Her eyes meet mine. “They said nineteen days to get it here.”

Oh.

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