Page 13 of The Princess and the Fraud

“Oh, you poor thing,” Mrs. Wits gasped at Aaron. “That shirt is Malstoni!”

“Forget the shirt,” Mrs. Harrington said. “Is your watch okay, dear?”

“Take it off, let’s take a look at it!”

I’d thought Michael was overreacting earlier, but it turned out he wasn’t the only one.

The third woman who’d been standing with Caroline and Annalise at the mouth of the rosebushes snatched a towel from Paige. Fiona Flannagan, Caroline’s age, butnotsomeone Caroline would’ve been hanging out with. She wasn’t the most likeable daughter of Alderton-Du Ponte, but not the most disliked, either. The bearer ofthatcrown belonged to Margot Massey. Fiona was harder to swallow in a different way. Margot had been quiet, cold, and refused to conform to the elite society.

Fiona was just plain insufferable, but at least she didn’t act out.

“What a terrible accident,” Fiona all but cooed as she pressed the towel to Aaron’s chest, trying to blot out the liquid that’d already set. “Is Alderton-Du Ponte cursed for you, Aaron?”

“Oh, of course it isn’t cursed,” Aaron replied with all the smoothness of silk. He didn’t pull away, but rather held still while she not-so-subtly felt him up. “Just eventful, that’s all.”

I could’ve scoffed from where I stood at the side of the chaos. The egotistical jerk had been right. The atmosphere would’ve been starkly different had he just waltzed in at Annalise’s side, but orchestrating himself to be a damsel in distress? It’d been the perfect solution.

All but one person seemed to buy it. I risked a glance at Mrs. Massey, expecting her stony stare—especially given she’d scolded me not even ten minutes ago—but she looked faintly smug.

I watched it all with my now empty tray clutched in front of me like a shield. After I’d returned the fallen flutes to the kitchen sink, I’d slunk my way back to the party, afraid of what awaited me.

Apparently, just women fighting over who got the chance to feel up a young millionaire.

“Who’s the hottie?” Paige asked as she came up to my side, lowering her voice to nothing more than a murmur.

I didn’t even want to speak his name. “Guy from California.”

“Hotguy from California.”

“Arrogantguy from California.”

“Annalise, you didn’t say you were coming home,” Mrs. Conan said, and it was clear she was doing her best to seem calm. She kept her voice light, but her fingers, fidgeting with the stem of her plastic champagne flute gave her away. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s great.” Annalise smiled. “Aaron was coming for business, so we thought it’d be the perfect time to surprise you.”

“Business?” Ms. Jennings asked. “Something with Astro Agencies?”

“What’s your role there, again?” Mrs. Gilmartin tapped her lips. “I can’t quite remember.”

“What business does Astro Agencies have here, dear?” Mrs. Wits leaned in, donning a gossiping tone. “After the business deal with the hotel fell through, we thought?—”

Ms. Jennings elbowed her in the side, splattering some of her mimosa from her flute onto the ground. Everyone fell silent. Astro Agencies was the multi-million-dollar travel agency Aaron’s parents owned, the biggest one in the country. Last year, with the assumed wedding of Aaron and Margot Massey looming, everyone had been abuzz with the hopes of even more prestige. Especially the Masseys, knowing that a partnership with a travel agency would put their hotel chain in an amazing position.

Until Margot decide to run off with her secretary and screwed them all over. Good for her.

The three of them—Annalise, Michael, and Aaron—all seemed to take a unified pause. Either they hadn’t gotten their story straight before coming, or they were afraid to dive in. “Aaron’s helping a charity that’s main hub is on the west coast,” Annalise said. “They’re… establishing a branch here. They asked him for his opinion on a few things.”

“Ooh, a charity!” That was Mrs. Holland, who tucked her hands underneath her chin. “Which one?”

Another pause from the trio, this time accompanied by an uneasy glance they all exchanged.

I should’vekept my mouth shut. I was to be seen and not heard. If Aaron hadn’t done what he had, I might’ve kept myself still. “Rhythms of Hope,” I answered for them.

It wasn’t just the trio that were silent then, but the entire garden party. Mrs. Conan’s features hardened, realizing they were in the midst of an enemy. Ms. Jennings pressed a hand to her lips, shielding a smirk. Caroline watched Fiona with a laser-focused gaze, while Paige, at my side, let out a short, surprised snort.

“Rhythms of Hope,” Mrs. Conan echoed, as if she didn’t recognize the name of her new archnemesis. “You work for them?”

“I don’t reallyworkfor them,” Aaron said, putting all the charming schmooze he could muster into looking at her. “I’m here on a favor, really. I hear you’re improving a music hall?”

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